Beginners Guide To Stuff & Nonsense

(opinionated. abject, and apathetic)

Affaires D'amour Bête Noire
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She said:
"You sound like a poet."
So I said,
"For you, I hope I always do!"
You make my mind's choir sing,
Set my heart aflame, aloft.
For you, my coarse, stark utterances
Transform upon my tongue.
Into the very best eloquence
my lips may command.
You set my desire aflame.
Change my quill's strokes
On vellum soft.
First gentled, tender, questioning
To bold, confident, glorious!
Effulgent being.
Pan himself would weep
Upon descriptions of thy pulchritude
If mere wordy metaphor
conveyed the proper essence
Of any feelings reserved just for you.
And so, she said:
"I just meant you rhymed a lot."
So I said:
"Thanks, that's really cute."

Tags:

Sunday Night Techical Support Kumite
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Ladies and gentlemen, it's Sunday night! Time for Technical Support Kumite! In the blue corner, wearing a solid-gold jockstrap padded with hundred-dollar bills, the reigning heavyweight telecommunications champion! Let's hear it for the Internet Service Provider! In the red corner, a featherweight challenger appears! No cash on this Customer! Just brandishing their fault reports. bills, and shares to the referee!


Though two contestants may enter the Ring Of Complaints; only one will leave satisfied!


Now we want the worst, the dirtiest fighting this audience can take! Let's see the spit fly, forehead-veins set a-pulse, the crunching hum of vocal chords-on-bone! Let's see them take those gloves off for round one! FIGHT!


A textbook opening from the Provider, the first blow a kindly how-do-you-do. Some needlessly pummeling queries on the Customer’s guard. A vicious jab to the business ethics from the challenger shows the Provider they really mean business! This is ten in the evening on a Sunday, folks! The Provider falters, the referee calls a quick end to the first round! Both contestants return to their corners.


Round two, FIGHT! The contestants circle the ring, the Provider is visibly bleeding from the ears. A roundhouse punch to the Customer’s jargon! The Customer swats the blow off like an irritating insect! The Customer explodes with a series of lightning-fast body blows up and down the specialist lingual domains! the Provider reels to the ropes! The Customer follows at a run, swinging a left-hook up underneath the Provider's guard! It catches the Provider in the responsibility! the Provider is down, hitting the mat hard! The crowd roars! They've seen this happen before, will the Provider rally for round three? The coaches are calling for towels and water.


There's the bell! Round three! But wait, what is this? The Customer is walking to the ropes, they're tagging someone... a front-row audience member! The Customer is pulling them through the ropes, who is this? Who will enter the Ring Of Complaints? Oh my... this doesn't look good for the Provider! It's the Telecommunications Industry Ombudsman! Looks like they've got a full thirty or forty kilos on the Provider and stand at least a foot taller! Oh dear, they're putting on a pair brass knuckles, and the Provider is shaking like a leaf in late autumn! The referee is leaving the ring! Running down the aisle into the changing rooms! Doesn't anyone want to see what will happen?


What a sickening sight! The Ombudsman has stepped on the Provider's foot! A right uppercut to the chin! A left hook to the temple! A push towards the ropes, the Provider sways back! Stumbles forward! The Ombudsman lunges in... Oh! Well, ladies and gentlemen, that was a knee to the groin! The Ombudsman grabs the Provider by the shoulders and is pulling them up. Oh! A head-butt, right on the nose! the Provider crumbles to the mat like a rag doll! The Ombudsman turns to deliver a swift kick to the ribs with what looks like pointed-toe steel-caps! the Provider is curled into the foetal position, gosh, that flow of blood is starting to pool. Perhaps this is it, folks? I think someone ought to call an ambulance.


As much as we all want this to be over, the Ombudsman has pulled out a switch-blade! He's cutting off the Provider's clothes and throwing them to the Customer! The Ring Of Complaints rarely sees this sort of treatment! The Customer and the Ombudsman are shaking hands! the Provider is coughing blood and trying to cover itself, and the crowd goes wild! Their evening blood-lust sated beyond their wildest dreams! Just remember, it's all here for you: the guts, the glory! Late night Sundays on... Technical! Support! Kumite!!!!! Ladies and gentlemen, thank you and goodnight. Always remember to take care on the Internet!


I'm not going to post this on Steam until I've played enough hours to merit such negativity...
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I bought early-access Godus because I managed to make myself believe for an instant this would be a return to good times had with Populous. Godus is the game 22cans made with funds generated by iOS users crazy enough to fund their previous, depressingly mercenary project-game Curiosity. I didn't like the concept of Curiosity, feeling it traded people's curiosity for money (and gave a random person a sense of importance). A more important question than whether you ought to play Godus would be: "How does Peter Molyneux continue making games?" The answer being foolish people such as myself continue to fund his hit-and-miss efforts. Let's just say I feel foolish for spending money this way, and hope my decision can be redeemed with the full release.

Other terrible Peter Molyneux games include Black & White, B&W2, Fable, Fable 2, Fable 3, and a number of other games which never made it to market (Project Milo). However, excellent Peter Molyneux games include Populous (the reason I bought Godus), Dungeon Keeper... oh and he produced Magic Carpet and the original Syndicate. With a track record like that, it's difficult to say, based on an unknown element of involvement in game design/programming/production, whether future games are worth it. But it's clear projects with Molyneux in a design/programming role suffer less critical acclaim than projects he produces.

For what it offers players for $20, Godus is only slightly less of a one-sided money-making venture than Curiosity, 22cans say they "thoroughly enjoyed developing our dream game", which misses a salient point. If developers enjoy their work more than players enjoy their experience--something is wrong. What's wrong is that the early access release of Godus isn't fun. By their 22cans combined, Tim Rance and Peter Molyneux seem able to ignore all feedback while marketing terrible game after terrible game. Even after Lionhead Studios' failures. This is probably due to the insatiable hunger of stalwart adherents in the United Kingdom and France for more locally-produced endeavour.

Godus isn't fun, because this sandbox game clamours for your attention like a an irritating hallway monitor, while simultaneously demanding action on your behalf to continue functioning. When you attempt to play in your sandbox, you can't move even a grain of sand, for want of not clicking on what you're supposed to. Good grief, don't you know anything? Better flash some icons to spawn modal help windows filled with irrelevant information explaining why you're so stupid you can't understand the highly intricate concept of repeatedly clicking on things while drooling. To put it bluntly, playing this game is like working with Filemaker Pro through a Zynga interface.

They've said with this early access release of Godus that they're aware that the game "involves too much clicking" and that this and other obvious gameplay deficiencies will be remedied in the final release. Perhaps buy the early access edition of Godus if you're especially tired of your current mouse. Or if you need something to ease any Farmville-esque cravings suffered while jonesing for a Facebook dopamine fix. Early access Godus costs $20.00 -- Cookie Clicker is free!

There are so many Godus elements which would be conspicuous by their absence, here is a list:

1. Obvious elements which will be soullessly used to market virtual hats/cards for cash.
2. Obvious game design for mobile platform (to be monetised for extra cash).
3. Obvious design choices to keep players chained to their mouses forever in the hope they'll swipe their credit cards... for extra cash.
4. Game comes with 50% off voucher for a Razer Naga, so you can use all the buttons for clicking.
5. Clicky-clicky-Clicking on subjects' houses to obtain belief.
6. Clicky-clicky-Clicking on subjects' houses to force them outside to build new houses.
7. Clicky-clicky-Clicking on subjects in utter frustration because they won't do the above, and even when they try, their actions occur at well below snail-pace.
8. A game where making yourself multiple coffees isn't an essential element while waiting for ages of civilisation to advance at 1:1 time-scales.
9. Clicky-clicky-Click-dragging to sculpt landscape which expends all your resources, then rubber-bands back into shape rather than being sculpted.
10. Timers which stop randomly for tens of seconds with 1:24 on the clock.
11. Annoying beeps demanding you click on alerts which display modal timeline menu showing things a tooltip could have related more easily.
12. A game extremely derivative of "From Dust", but less visually appealing, or mechanically rewarding.
13. A game which isn't a terrible money-grubbing attempt to have a game to play over your girlfriend's shoulder. Sorry, did I say girlfriend? I meant wife.

To put all this in a less frustrated way: From Dust is much better than Godus, and has a very different pedigree, being designed by Eric Chahi who also designed Another World. From Dust was released in 2011 and is $14.99. Since I enjoy God games, it's best to conclude this review with one which is far superior to and and cheaper than Godus. Have fun playing "From Dust"! :)

Many years ago I wrote this, and I'm glad I'm still here to post it
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( You are about to view content that may only be appropriate for adults. )

Poetic traduction
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Finally, he spoke, "My lady... you are a vision of pulchritude! Your hair, like succulent treacle waves of profusion! Your eyes, sparkling gems of sapphire moonlight! In your effulgent presence I feel... coarse and unworthy. I must go," and with that he turned and slumped away.
Heavily bearing in his heart the tragic, unrequited love of a poet. I didn't know what to say, what could I do to ease his tortured soul's great pain? So I chased him outside into the parking lot, then just as his eyes shone bright with hope, I kicked him in the shins. What a creep.

(no subject)
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I recently made a profile on OKCupid. I got a message from someone saying "Your profile seems to say stay away!" and I replied saying "I'm actually friendly, but there are reasons it lights up this way."
In truth my profile says "Back the fuck up or get kicked in the crotch so hard you'll need your toothbrush to masturbate."

Why? Well, I mention that people who suffer cluster B need to search for softer targets, because I have been hurt and damaged by contact with cluster B in my past. For the psychologically inclined readers out there, you'll probably know the way cluster B personality disorders usually form is embryonically in children who spend time around parents or carers who already suffer cluster B personality disorders.
So saying "Stay away, cluster B!" is akin to saying "Stay away, I have, or have had too much contact with cluster B!"

Taking this a little further, people suffering these disorders are great at simulating normality, but their motives are impure. They will be hurtful without understanding why or how they are being hurtful. They will attempt to empathise with you after hurting you, and while it may be an extremely good-quality simulation of the emotion, it will not be actual empathy. These sufferers lack any real capacity for the good consideration of others, because they often lack both the natural or nurtured impulses to such consideration.

When they can no longer hurt you, they will discard you, because you no longer respond to them in a way which produces their desired effect. This occurs when you learn to either retaliate effectively, or accept all further punishments unquestioningly and without remorse or feedback from their affliction (or a combination of these). They will feel no remorse from your abandonment. In fact they will rationalise they have done you a favour by bettering you (by thickening your skin to the harsh realities of life as seen through the lens of cluster B).

Soon after parting, you will become far lesser in their eyes than you were when you were closer. As they focus their attentions on learning to control someone else's personality to continue the cycle, their knowledge of your will degrade from a systematic understanding of your values and motives, to a far sparser ruleset for governing your behaviour based upon benefiting them and degrading you.

Cluster B sufferers lack the capacity to care for others, although they may desperately want to out of a desire for acceptance from others. Which is why they continually spool unfortunates into their affairs, hurt them terribly, then feed off the negative emotion. Succumbing to an often nurtured desire to absorb and understand the nature of pain and suffering in the belief they can transcend it or sublime it into a more positive force. They fail to understand how this only compounds the misery caused by their faulty actions and attachment.


Tea & Coffee and why I'm not drinking either.
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Have you ever woken up at 4:30AM, compelled to write down better fridge magnet slogans for tea and coffee than "Do stupid things faster, with more energy!" and found that one pretty hard to top? Must've been a 3AM effort is my guess, the ideas that come from that hour of the morning are usually of better quality than ones which arise closer to the sun itself.
I'll have a go anyway, although this is more a tea analogy, have you ever noticed that cups of tea in English-speaking cultures are peculiarly British? Even the question "Cup of tea?" sounds like a train rattling its way up towards some Scottish highland, or over towards Delhi or Bombay, chic-a-choc-chic-a-choc, cup-o-tea-cup-o-tea-cup-o-tea. Are we there yet? Cup-o-tea-cup-o-tea.
This is why I gave up drinking tea. I gave up drinking coffee because it's a ridiculous habitual stimulant but tea is so mild you forget the roots the plant itself drives into your very life. As James Marsters' character Spike said to Anthony Stuart Head's character Giles in Buffy: The Vampire Slayer "Did your life flash before your eyes? Cup of tea, cup of tea, ALMOST got shagged! Cup of tea?" Think about the hours of every day you spend making and drinking cups of tea. Remember, even without the time-wasting aspect, stimulants are generally BAD for you, even if you don't sugar it up and add milk so you can feel your mouth . Stephen Fry related on QI once the concept that tea-drinking made the ancient Chinese so self-satisfied with their perfection of teapot and cup technology they failed to advance beyond porcelain for about a thousand years. Really. I have my own internally self-consistent theories about what halted further advancement in ancient China and it has more to do with one half of a society deciding to waste most of its effort and waking hours systematically oppressing the other half. Often with newly-invented traditions so insanely barbaric they can only be rationalised as forms of 'ritual' abuse.
Back to tea, in the time I've spent writing this I could probably have made two cups of tea, but I'd still be contemplating the phrasing of the first sentence over the hot fuming tannin vapours. Sure, I know how to savour the world's finest Ceylon leaves, but if you do anything 5, 10, or 30 times per day there's hardly any point in stopping the endless repetition of the activity to smell the roses. About the only people who need to drink tea as many times per day as lots of people do are tea farmers--and that is because they either need to grade their own product, or they simply need to do something to distract them from the mind-numbing repetition of tea-farming itself. Which brings me to coffee.
Although I have at various times in my life been incredibly addicted (5-10 double espresso per day) to coffee, I believe it is essentially a silly activity. As a child, my parents used to load me up with coffee for breakfast before school. This is probably as ridiculous as it gets. Obviously they had little idea (or were woefully, wilfully ignorant) of the health detractions of giving your child coffee, or not making them eat breakfast. But who cares? They wanted to go to work, and I was an accidental inconvenience to them at the age of five to twenty-five.
In conclusion, I offer these tarnished gems to the world:
"Cup of tea? Or would you prefer a Salvador Dali melted clock?"
"Cup of coffee? Or would you prefer to just stop doing silly stuff?"
Perhaps we'll all switch to caffeine-free, artificially sweetened, non-carbonated, naturally-coloured, flavourless soft drinks. I've got a good brand name for these; "Why Bother?"
I also think that is a good name for decaf soy lattes with a twist of lemon.


(no subject)
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One of the things I dislike about socialising is that it's essentially people saying "I like you," over and over again to each other. What's especially dishonest about the process is that as soon as you've left and gone home with people you really like, you'll take the opportunity to say "How I hate them!" as soon as the people you just finished an evening telling you liked are at home with their loved ones doing exactly the same thing. This doesn't make it okay, far from it in fact.
Every time you mistreat, scoff, or ignore when you could have helped, you show what you truly think of this world. I'm no exception, but for the fact that occasionally I write in here what's really going through my mind which is nothing other than "Kill... destroy... eviscerate... disintegrate... obliterate... perish!" and honestly, sometimes I mean it. If that bothers you, please leave your comments in the section below.


Hrm.
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I've been a bit odd the last few days. I'm incredibly irritable, it's dangerous to participate in social networks when you feel like this; unless you've decided once and for all you're not actually depressed--just surrounded by jerks.
I'm feeling awkward about the purge of recent entries from here. I realise now it was a knee-jerk reaction to the responses I've gotten from real, actual, concerned people who probably read this output and have contacted me using other systems to invite my participation in activities which may hold hope of bringing me back to humanity or some other goals.
My feeling at the moment is that this will fail to achieve much, mostly because of my crummy state of mind, though I thank you for your concern and efforts. The truth is I wish to write my way through this to see if I can't channel the negative emotions I'm feeling into a creative work through which to transmute them into something positive. This is a difficult task, and I can't engage deeply enough with the activity if I'm under constant pressure to socialise.


*bzt*
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There's been a slight memory-purge here lately.

I've been exploring a pretty dark place with my writing and I'm not going there anymore. Suffice to say my imagination scares me sometimes. Looking over this output over the past few days, I've decided to write another short novel outline soon--I will be using some of the material from the purged posts, but trust me it will be a good story, not an evil story. *phew*

I think by exploring the mirror opposite of ideals what we wish we to represent we explore new possibilities for 'epic' narratives. I guess my ambition is to: imagine the most horrendous evil I can, recognise the good in that story, then tell an apocryphal tale in which light becomes dark/dark becomes light. An eternal life cycle we are both fit to and form for ourselves.

Also for once I have no idea what the title will be, I just want to write an outline of my story. First there are some books to finish reading.

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