To many people, a shitty Chirstmas party is getting a picture frame during gift giving. But when you go take a piss and return to find Hitler in your seat, you just know Christmas will suck this year.
(thanks again, Steveman)
Nazi Rock
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Seen in this picture: Hitler imitating a performance by his favorite rock group: Queen.
Not seen in this picture: An electric guitar. Apparently it's harder to shred if the instrument you're trying to play hasn't been invented yet.
And I quote:
Adolf Hitler (36) : "Stick? STICK!? You just don't fucking understanden, Goering. It's all about the musikken and sprach rocken! Fuck Fred Durst. Da? "
Hermann Goering (45): "Fred who?"
Adolf Hitler: "Let's keep it that way. Invade America before he's born."
Bassist (far left) : "FUCK YEAH!"
Not seen in this picture: An electric guitar. Apparently it's harder to shred if the instrument you're trying to play hasn't been invented yet.
And I quote:
Adolf Hitler (36) : "Stick? STICK!? You just don't fucking understanden, Goering. It's all about the musikken and sprach rocken! Fuck Fred Durst. Da? "
Hermann Goering (45): "Fred who?"
Adolf Hitler: "Let's keep it that way. Invade America before he's born."
Bassist (far left) : "FUCK YEAH!"
Alien vs. Predator 2: Survival of The Fittest Review
Sunday, January 27, 2008
The spoiler-free review of the movie Alien vs. Predator 2: Survival of The Fittest can be expressed using the following pseudo-mathematical formula:
Anyway, I might as well continue with the spoiler-filled non-mathematical derivation of this formula - the actual walkthrough.
AVP2 picks up from the last AVP movie from a couple of years ago and tries to redeem the wrongs created by the first movie (both plotwise and quality wise) If you haven't seen the first movie, you have absolutely no good reason to watch this film. If you have, unfortunately, seen the first movie, I'd say the same thing.
Storywise, AVP2 starts right after the predator who got infected with those stomach thingie worms as seen in AVP1 is taken to a Predator ship. The predators who picked up the body seemingly suffer from an identity disorder, as they seem to act less like bloodthirsty motherfucking hunters from outerspace and more like the dumb astrovictims from JasonX, causing alien to make a comeback. After the spawn emerges from the predator it becomes a creature that's half predator, half alien and all bullshit (science has proven aliens dont change form depending on its parasitic host, e.g. sigourny weaver's broodlings didn't look as ugly as her).
The hybrid takes down the ship and crashes it to earth. Along with the space ship, whatever potential for coherent progression of the film gets incinerated. Change scene to the predator world that strangely enough looks a lot like Bangkok, a single predator sees the crashing ship and soon picks up the task of cleaning up everything.
Much like the Transformers movie, both the Aliens and the Predator get sidetracked to develop 5 human characters (Ex-convict, pizzaboy, sheriff, GIJane, girl-who-exists-solely-to-strip-in-an-unnecessary-pool-scene) . Using the word develop might somewhat be an understatement as each of these characters are given a total amount of dialog that would probably fill no more than two pages of bond paper. Since Aliens and Predators don't talk either, you can tell that whoever subtitled the movie for the DVD version didn't have too much of a task.
The predator starts chasing the aliens one by one. People start dying. GI Jane's husband gets killed in front of her eyes but she runs away and completely forgets about everything moments later. Some stupid jokes about the government are thrown in for safe (read: retarded) measure like "The government will never lie to us" and "I told you terrorists will come inville. It's only a matter of time." People who uttered those lines died seconds later.
Predator forgets his mission and starts fucking everybody up including humans and aliens. He is later asskicked by the halfpredhalfalien creature which he chases with a vengeance in a series of scenes reminiscent of the original Donkey Kong game (lots of iron bar levels, fireballs and barrels)
Meanwhile, the girl-who-must-strip finally strips. Random jocks ruin the party. Alien (who apparently likes watching girls stripping) ruin the jocks.
Later on in the film, more people who are not related to the main plot are given death scenes again (including the entire battalion of national guards,less than 10 in number, who also think they're cast as the astrovictims from JasonX.) The townspeople are reduced to 20 or so people without much fanfare (read: no blood, no bodies, just plain plothole)
The heroes finally meet up together and then "split" into two groups. One group goes to the hospital where they are again reduced in number. The other group goes to the town center. Girl-who-has-shown-her-ass finally gets voted off, along with teammates who I dont even recall ever entering the movie. Hybrid fights the predator again in a barehanded UFC style brawl that ends up in a draw. The hospital group ride a helicopter and escape the city.
The towncenter group (including the sheriff main character), I SHIT YOU NOT, gets blown to bits by a nuclear explosion from a bomb dropped by an F22 that came out of nowhere for no given reason at all (other than to cover all those plotholes and save film time). The bomb destroys everything including the Aliens, the hybrid alienpredator, the predator, and every body else in the film except the hospital group. The helicopter crashes in a mountain where they are retrieved by a new set of soldiers, and then they cheer up and celebrate - completely forgetting that nuclear explosions cause cancer and that everybody they loved had died nagasaki-style.
Because of this, nobody wins in the Alien vs. Predator match - pretty much like having two boxers duke it out and have both of them shot by a .45 in the head at round 10. In the question of survival of the fittest, apparently F22s with nuclear payloads win.
End of story.
The plot dies a gruesome, pointless death and we're still mourning.
Whenever I write long stories, I always imagine being able to end a story anytime by inventing a fictional meteor that crashes into earth and kills everybody in the plot if I get too lazy to continue. I never thought anybody would really pull that shit off and still make it all the way to Hollywood post-production.
Aliens vs. Predator is a very easy concept to explore and given the right budget it's fair to think that failing at it would be hard. Aliens invade, predators help humans. Humans kick ass. Is that so hard?
QED, see formula above.
Anyway, I might as well continue with the spoiler-filled non-mathematical derivation of this formula - the actual walkthrough.
AVP2 picks up from the last AVP movie from a couple of years ago and tries to redeem the wrongs created by the first movie (both plotwise and quality wise) If you haven't seen the first movie, you have absolutely no good reason to watch this film. If you have, unfortunately, seen the first movie, I'd say the same thing.
Storywise, AVP2 starts right after the predator who got infected with those stomach thingie worms as seen in AVP1 is taken to a Predator ship. The predators who picked up the body seemingly suffer from an identity disorder, as they seem to act less like bloodthirsty motherfucking hunters from outerspace and more like the dumb astrovictims from JasonX, causing alien to make a comeback. After the spawn emerges from the predator it becomes a creature that's half predator, half alien and all bullshit (science has proven aliens dont change form depending on its parasitic host, e.g. sigourny weaver's broodlings didn't look as ugly as her).
The hybrid takes down the ship and crashes it to earth. Along with the space ship, whatever potential for coherent progression of the film gets incinerated. Change scene to the predator world that strangely enough looks a lot like Bangkok, a single predator sees the crashing ship and soon picks up the task of cleaning up everything.
Much like the Transformers movie, both the Aliens and the Predator get sidetracked to develop 5 human characters (Ex-convict, pizzaboy, sheriff, GIJane, girl-who-exists-solely-to-strip-in-an-unnecessary-pool-scene) . Using the word develop might somewhat be an understatement as each of these characters are given a total amount of dialog that would probably fill no more than two pages of bond paper. Since Aliens and Predators don't talk either, you can tell that whoever subtitled the movie for the DVD version didn't have too much of a task.
The predator starts chasing the aliens one by one. People start dying. GI Jane's husband gets killed in front of her eyes but she runs away and completely forgets about everything moments later. Some stupid jokes about the government are thrown in for safe (read: retarded) measure like "The government will never lie to us" and "I told you terrorists will come in
Predator forgets his mission and starts fucking everybody up including humans and aliens. He is later asskicked by the halfpredhalfalien creature which he chases with a vengeance in a series of scenes reminiscent of the original Donkey Kong game (lots of iron bar levels, fireballs and barrels)
Meanwhile, the girl-who-must-strip finally strips. Random jocks ruin the party. Alien (who apparently likes watching girls stripping) ruin the jocks.
Later on in the film, more people who are not related to the main plot are given death scenes again (including the entire battalion of national guards,less than 10 in number, who also think they're cast as the astrovictims from JasonX.) The townspeople are reduced to 20 or so people without much fanfare (read: no blood, no bodies, just plain plothole)
The heroes finally meet up together and then "split" into two groups. One group goes to the hospital where they are again reduced in number. The other group goes to the town center. Girl-who-has-shown-her-ass finally gets voted off, along with teammates who I dont even recall ever entering the movie. Hybrid fights the predator again in a barehanded UFC style brawl that ends up in a draw. The hospital group ride a helicopter and escape the city.
The towncenter group (including the sheriff main character), I SHIT YOU NOT, gets blown to bits by a nuclear explosion from a bomb dropped by an F22 that came out of nowhere for no given reason at all (other than to cover all those plotholes and save film time). The bomb destroys everything including the Aliens, the hybrid alienpredator, the predator, and every body else in the film except the hospital group. The helicopter crashes in a mountain where they are retrieved by a new set of soldiers, and then they cheer up and celebrate - completely forgetting that nuclear explosions cause cancer and that everybody they loved had died nagasaki-style.
Because of this, nobody wins in the Alien vs. Predator match - pretty much like having two boxers duke it out and have both of them shot by a .45 in the head at round 10. In the question of survival of the fittest, apparently F22s with nuclear payloads win.
End of story.
The plot dies a gruesome, pointless death and we're still mourning.
Whenever I write long stories, I always imagine being able to end a story anytime by inventing a fictional meteor that crashes into earth and kills everybody in the plot if I get too lazy to continue. I never thought anybody would really pull that shit off and still make it all the way to Hollywood post-production.
Aliens vs. Predator is a very easy concept to explore and given the right budget it's fair to think that failing at it would be hard. Aliens invade, predators help humans. Humans kick ass. Is that so hard?
QED, see formula above.
Cloverfield Review Quotes
Friday, January 25, 2008
Don't you just hate it when you walk into an empty elevator without realizing that somebody had farted in it not too long ago? (i.e. burning nostrils are a good indicator) You want to go out but you're already there and the door's closed so you just try to hold your breath. One floor later, the elevator stops and opens for other people, and there's not really much you can do to save you from looking like the asshole who turned the elevator into a makeshift gas chamber. The "I know what you're thinking..." line won't really make those "Who else could have done it?" look on their faces.
It's at this point you're just wishing somebody would strike a match or tap a lighter and blow the whole elevator up, because quite frankly it just doesn't get any worse than that.
It's at this point you're just wishing somebody would strike a match or tap a lighter and blow the whole elevator up, because quite frankly it just doesn't get any worse than that.
Times like these you need juicy fruit gum. Softer. Jucier. Mas malinamnam.
One lousy way to get busted for lip synching
Thursday, January 24, 2008
See, when you do stupid shit, all that's bound to get back at you. Throw garbage at the canal and come rain time, that used condom will end up knocking at your front door. Keep drunk driving and you'll end up painting graffiti along EDSA's walls - with your spleen. That's direct cause and effect right there.
And then there are things like misusing talent. God gives you the voice that will let you become famous, get ridiculous amounts of wanton sex that even politicians can only dream about, and get away with just about anything (see Michael Jackson).
When I say just about anything, I mean there are still a couple of stupid things you shouldn't do. This video right here shows one of those very few things that's still out of line:
You got a great voice, but you decide to get lazy and just use "technology" to make your life easier. And because it's hard for something so stupid to get back at you directly, Heaven intervenes just enough to cause you to fall off the fucking stage, scatter what remnant of dignity you have in you while singing something about saying sorry and apologies.
Divine intervention, fuck yeah.
And then there are things like misusing talent. God gives you the voice that will let you become famous, get ridiculous amounts of wanton sex that even politicians can only dream about, and get away with just about anything (see Michael Jackson).
When I say just about anything, I mean there are still a couple of stupid things you shouldn't do. This video right here shows one of those very few things that's still out of line:
You got a great voice, but you decide to get lazy and just use "technology" to make your life easier. And because it's hard for something so stupid to get back at you directly, Heaven intervenes just enough to cause you to fall off the fucking stage, scatter what remnant of dignity you have in you while singing something about saying sorry and apologies.
Divine intervention, fuck yeah.
Random Ponderings
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
I'm not sure about enlightenment, but it seems I'm going to get the Buddha status belly-first.
One perfectly good reason man doesn't live on bread and water alone is that building the second story of your house out of mushy wheat can get tricky.
There's always something you can give, even to those who already have everything. Like ransom notes, for example.
One perfectly good reason that I like playing the piano is that apart from sleeping, it's the only thing I can do with my eyes closed and my muscles working on instinct. Well, there's masturbation too, but you can't really compare Sonata Pathetique with a used kleenex.
Ever wondered how cats ended up with nine lives? I'm thinking during creation, they put in eight more tokens in God's arcade machine of creation.
While I havent really been listening in biology class, I can safely say being a turtle and having erectile disfunction cannot be a good thing.
One perfectly good reason man doesn't live on bread and water alone is that building the second story of your house out of mushy wheat can get tricky.
There's always something you can give, even to those who already have everything. Like ransom notes, for example.
One perfectly good reason that I like playing the piano is that apart from sleeping, it's the only thing I can do with my eyes closed and my muscles working on instinct. Well, there's masturbation too, but you can't really compare Sonata Pathetique with a used kleenex.
Ever wondered how cats ended up with nine lives? I'm thinking during creation, they put in eight more tokens in God's arcade machine of creation.
While I havent really been listening in biology class, I can safely say being a turtle and having erectile disfunction cannot be a good thing.
Water and Dreams
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
And water, though, of form devoid,
still seeketh paths of earthen carved
It heeds no voice, neither man nor God
but listens to the beckon of the sea
For the path laden - oft grace descent,
and the basin whence it rests
to wish water to come to thee
pave the land. thine ocean be.
[an old post of mine from RB]
Fulfillment is like water. It doesn't come to you unless you make way for it to find you. Put effort in and good things will come to you naturally. Put in too much effort and you'll drown.
Nothing funny about this post. Spend the day thinking about what you want to do in life and how you need to get your ass off that computer chair and do something about it, unless you're dreaming of spending the rest of your life in that computer chair, in which case simply not moving will fulfill your dream.
Then come back tomorrow. Normal posts resume.
still seeketh paths of earthen carved
It heeds no voice, neither man nor God
but listens to the beckon of the sea
For the path laden - oft grace descent,
and the basin whence it rests
to wish water to come to thee
pave the land. thine ocean be.
[an old post of mine from RB]
Fulfillment is like water. It doesn't come to you unless you make way for it to find you. Put effort in and good things will come to you naturally. Put in too much effort and you'll drown.
Nothing funny about this post. Spend the day thinking about what you want to do in life and how you need to get your ass off that computer chair and do something about it, unless you're dreaming of spending the rest of your life in that computer chair, in which case simply not moving will fulfill your dream.
Then come back tomorrow. Normal posts resume.
RagnaCam Usage Tutorial
Sunday, January 20, 2008
RagnaCam is a utility I use to view maps and models available ingame. It's quite useful for flash, movie, and stillart imagery. Until very recently I never really bothered giving people the exact method how to find and install this utility but nowadays I don't really see the point of being secretive about it.
Here are the steps, it's not that hard.
1. Download RagnaCam at: EnderSoft
2. Download GRFTool at: SourceForge
3. Unzip the GRFTool and run executable.
3a. Open data.grf from your RO folder.
4. Click settings, tick "use original encoding for filenames".
5. Click extract, select C:\Program Files\Gravity\RagnarokOnline\
6. Wait for the extraction to complete. You need at least 3GB to get the whole data folder extracted completely.
7. Unzip RagnaCam and run the RagnaCamGUI
8. The maplist should be displayed now.
9. Pick a map and enjoy. Controls should be similar to Counterstrike and other FPS games.
All credit goes to Dave of EnderSoft for revising the exisisting RO Map Viewer into something easier to use. Do not repost this guide without my permission.
Here are the steps, it's not that hard.
1. Download RagnaCam at: EnderSoft
2. Download GRFTool at: SourceForge
3. Unzip the GRFTool and run executable.
3a. Open data.grf from your RO folder.
4. Click settings, tick "use original encoding for filenames".
5. Click extract, select C:\Program Files\Gravity\RagnarokOnline\
6. Wait for the extraction to complete. You need at least 3GB to get the whole data folder extracted completely.
7. Unzip RagnaCam and run the RagnaCamGUI
8. The maplist should be displayed now.
9. Pick a map and enjoy. Controls should be similar to Counterstrike and other FPS games.
All credit goes to Dave of EnderSoft for revising the exisisting RO Map Viewer into something easier to use. Do not repost this guide without my permission.
Renaldo Lapuz, Reynaldo Lapuz [BROTHERS FOREVER]
Friday, January 18, 2008
It's amazing how much a bit of airtime can transform a nobody into a full-time celebrity retard. Case in point? Renaldo Lapuz of the latest American Idol season. What ticks me off is that everybody who knows what to look KNOWS this jackass is a Filipino. I don't know when I was able to confirm it, but I think it was when he said "free of charge". Yeah, how "Pinoy".
God gives you the opportunity to make your mark in the world and you take a dump in everybody's faces in a bukakke of stupidity. Brothers forever? Not really.
I am your brother
Your best friend forever
Singing your songs
and music that you love.
We're brothers
To the end of time,
Together or not
You're always in my heart.
You, sir, are a hero. We at Public Static salute you, Sir Renaldo Lapuz. God bless you.
God gives you the opportunity to make your mark in the world and you take a dump in everybody's faces in a bukakke of stupidity. Brothers forever? Not really.
I am your brother
Your best friend forever
Singing your songs
and music that you love.
We're brothers
To the end of time,
Together or not
You're always in my heart.
You, sir, are a hero. We at Public Static salute you, Sir Renaldo Lapuz. God bless you.
The Final Post
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Once upon a time there was this boy who loved a girl, and he was lucky enough, blessed enough to have the girl love him back. He loved her so much, but because he had to leave for another country, he felt that he just had to break up with her because it was for the best. The girl did not want to, saying she'd wait for him no matter what, but the boy was insistent. The girl did not want to cut all ties with the boy and so asked him to become her friend instead.
The boy agreed, but on one condition. After he goes to the states he will only communicate with her through a blog. She can post messages there and he will post his messages back. The girl, even though it was painful for her, agreed. Soon enough, the boy left for the States. The girl checked his blog everyday to see what he would say to her. After every week, he'd post stories there about his life in the states. And he'd make harsh remarks about the girl and how she's not moved on yet. This of course only angered the girl and posted back, though unanswered.
Several months passed, ever week there was a new post in the blog, each time there was nothing but harsh words for the girl and every post seemed to make him more distant. The girl began to loath the guy,and slowly stopped visiting the site. After a while she could not take the posts anymore she started going out to forget about things. Eventually she became happy with her own life, no longer dependent on the blog of her ex. And maybe it was hard for her, but eventually she moved on, and she lived a good life.
Once upon a time there was this boy who loved a girl, and he was lucky enough, blessed enough to have the girl love him back. He loved her so much, but fate would not have things as easy as they appeared. The boy was diagnosed with a very rare case of Alzheimer's Disease, striking very early in life, giving him only a few months until he would forget everything and eventually pass on. He tried breaking up with the girl but the girl loved him too much.
The girl had so much ahead of her and to have her tied to him would only make her suffer too much. In his mind, he would rather spend his final hours living alone than have the girl suffer longer than he would. He decided to hide his illness by pretending to go abroad. And since there would be too little time for her to forget him, he wrote ahead, lots and lots of posts that would show him gradually distancing from the girl.
He then asked his bestfriend to create a blog for him, and every week, she'd post an entry on the blog from what he wrote for that week. There was enough entries for a year. The bestfriend agreed, though reluctantly, she agreed. The boy broke up with the girl and then went back to his province where he would spend the last of his days, slowly forgetting what he would rather not have forgotten. He had planned to make his girlfriend move on and he had succeeded. At first he would ask the bestfriend how the girl reacted, he'd feel sad but he knew well enough to not reply.
Eventually the disease took its toll. He would ask for replies but not really know why he'd be asking such things. He started forgetting his memories of the girl. He forgot even his bestfriend, and his last request to her, but the bestfriend followed his instructions diligently. Time passed and the girl stopped posting in the site. Later on the bestfriend learned that the girl finally moved on, and not long after that, the boy finally passed away without not even knowing the great sacrifice he had done.
And maybe this was a tale never meant to be known unto the world, as one forgot and other became forgotten. But in life there are only so many things one can witness that would be so overwhelming, so lifechanging that even though not everybody would remember how it happened, the feelings will always be real, always be unchanged. And that is why before I finally leave this blog, I, the best friend would like to leave this final recounting of the great story behind the posts on this site, that whosoever would stumble upon it in the future would know that once upon a time, there was a boy who loved so much, he went on beyond the fear of forgetting, beyond the fear of being forgotten, to give the girl who was most important to his life another chance at being happy.
And if you can read this, Diana, today, tomorrow, or many years from now. Shed no tear as I have. Up to his final moment he was happy, though his mind did not know why, his heart and soul did. And it was nothing less than his ultimate ardent wish for you to love again, to live again, to be happy. Never frown. Always look on the bright side of things. Be happy for him, for you have been loved by the greatest love that I have ever seen.
And I am more than thankful to have seen it all.
Best wishes,
"Bes" Sarah.
For Marco Dimanlaon.
June 23, 1985 - Dec 29, 2007
============
this is not the final post of this blog. this is the final post of another blog, (hence the title).This is my entry to evilwoobie’s Valentine Share Your Love Story Contest. She's an ex-RO player cum blogger. Whether or not the story is real is up to you guys to find out. Oh and yeah, I won't be posting tomorrow either so this will be for tomorrow's update. Have a nice weekend guys. I know I will, with my GF. :)
The boy agreed, but on one condition. After he goes to the states he will only communicate with her through a blog. She can post messages there and he will post his messages back. The girl, even though it was painful for her, agreed. Soon enough, the boy left for the States. The girl checked his blog everyday to see what he would say to her. After every week, he'd post stories there about his life in the states. And he'd make harsh remarks about the girl and how she's not moved on yet. This of course only angered the girl and posted back, though unanswered.
Several months passed, ever week there was a new post in the blog, each time there was nothing but harsh words for the girl and every post seemed to make him more distant. The girl began to loath the guy,and slowly stopped visiting the site. After a while she could not take the posts anymore she started going out to forget about things. Eventually she became happy with her own life, no longer dependent on the blog of her ex. And maybe it was hard for her, but eventually she moved on, and she lived a good life.
Once upon a time there was this boy who loved a girl, and he was lucky enough, blessed enough to have the girl love him back. He loved her so much, but fate would not have things as easy as they appeared. The boy was diagnosed with a very rare case of Alzheimer's Disease, striking very early in life, giving him only a few months until he would forget everything and eventually pass on. He tried breaking up with the girl but the girl loved him too much.
The girl had so much ahead of her and to have her tied to him would only make her suffer too much. In his mind, he would rather spend his final hours living alone than have the girl suffer longer than he would. He decided to hide his illness by pretending to go abroad. And since there would be too little time for her to forget him, he wrote ahead, lots and lots of posts that would show him gradually distancing from the girl.
He then asked his bestfriend to create a blog for him, and every week, she'd post an entry on the blog from what he wrote for that week. There was enough entries for a year. The bestfriend agreed, though reluctantly, she agreed. The boy broke up with the girl and then went back to his province where he would spend the last of his days, slowly forgetting what he would rather not have forgotten. He had planned to make his girlfriend move on and he had succeeded. At first he would ask the bestfriend how the girl reacted, he'd feel sad but he knew well enough to not reply.
Eventually the disease took its toll. He would ask for replies but not really know why he'd be asking such things. He started forgetting his memories of the girl. He forgot even his bestfriend, and his last request to her, but the bestfriend followed his instructions diligently. Time passed and the girl stopped posting in the site. Later on the bestfriend learned that the girl finally moved on, and not long after that, the boy finally passed away without not even knowing the great sacrifice he had done.
And maybe this was a tale never meant to be known unto the world, as one forgot and other became forgotten. But in life there are only so many things one can witness that would be so overwhelming, so lifechanging that even though not everybody would remember how it happened, the feelings will always be real, always be unchanged. And that is why before I finally leave this blog, I, the best friend would like to leave this final recounting of the great story behind the posts on this site, that whosoever would stumble upon it in the future would know that once upon a time, there was a boy who loved so much, he went on beyond the fear of forgetting, beyond the fear of being forgotten, to give the girl who was most important to his life another chance at being happy.
And if you can read this, Diana, today, tomorrow, or many years from now. Shed no tear as I have. Up to his final moment he was happy, though his mind did not know why, his heart and soul did. And it was nothing less than his ultimate ardent wish for you to love again, to live again, to be happy. Never frown. Always look on the bright side of things. Be happy for him, for you have been loved by the greatest love that I have ever seen.
And I am more than thankful to have seen it all.
Best wishes,
"Bes" Sarah.
For Marco Dimanlaon.
June 23, 1985 - Dec 29, 2007
============
this is not the final post of this blog. this is the final post of another blog, (hence the title).This is my entry to evilwoobie’s Valentine Share Your Love Story Contest. She's an ex-RO player cum blogger. Whether or not the story is real is up to you guys to find out. Oh and yeah, I won't be posting tomorrow either so this will be for tomorrow's update. Have a nice weekend guys. I know I will, with my GF. :)
Can I smell your...
You know, I gotta hand it to the African Americans. After being forcefully sent to the states on overcrowded boats, treated like animals for a couple of hundred years, sent to war for the freedom they never really got, and then probably a hundred years more of maltreatment, they went on anyway to dominate every fucking sport in the United States, along with a large chunk of the country's music industry. People like Malcolm X and Martin Luther King Jr. have gone a long way to improve the image of the black man in the States.
And then came Riskay the Drama Queen.
If she can do what she infers she can do in this song, she can establish her own CSI Bronx, using nothing but her olfactory sense to trace trouble. Achievement wise, she's not really lacking. She's practically sent the black community a couple of decades back in terms of morale improvement with her music. I'm sure she's one of the few people who can unite both white and black people in a single cause: Asking the question of "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!"
As if Michael Jackson, OJ Simpson, and Vanessa Williams weren't enough.
[special thanks to FiSHCAKE! for ruining my morning with the damn link]
And then came Riskay the Drama Queen.
If she can do what she infers she can do in this song, she can establish her own CSI Bronx, using nothing but her olfactory sense to trace trouble. Achievement wise, she's not really lacking. She's practically sent the black community a couple of decades back in terms of morale improvement with her music. I'm sure she's one of the few people who can unite both white and black people in a single cause: Asking the question of "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!"
As if Michael Jackson, OJ Simpson, and Vanessa Williams weren't enough.
[special thanks to FiSHCAKE! for ruining my morning with the damn link]
Low Grades, Kool Aid
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
I was rummaging for class pictures last night when I found this. This is a merit card I got from highschool. I can't really remember but I think I got into the class top ten that quarter. There's nothing striking about it, other than the batshit insane low grades that they kept on giving us in that school.
Think about this. I was in the top ten. My average was no higher than 87.5. We're on a perfectly hierarchical arrangement and I'm on the best section. There were around 200 students in the batch. That means at some point after my grades, it only gets lower. To borrow the words of a senior of mine, "St. Andrew's is the only school where you study AND cheat AND still fail the goddamn exam."
Larry, a math genius motherfucker from our batch once perfected all the exams in mathematics for a quarter. I remember he got a 93. A 93. In other schools honor students would be pissing their shorts if they see a 93.
Another friend of mine was the second honor of the fourth and last section that year. His average was 79. You read that right. Having 50 students in a section that meant there were still 48 guys with even lower averages. I'm talking about guys who didn't ask their peers how many lines of sevens they got. These people counted the subjects that they were able to get to at least 80.
I can't remember ever gunning for grades that would take me to the honors level. With the kind of grading system we got and with the kind of treatment I got from my parents whenever I hit lines of sevens, I was happy enough to cling on to the 80's level. Every card distribution day was like OJ's handing-out-of-verdict day. I think that was when I developed a religious life. (for the week before and after the dreaded day anyway)
They've probably abolished the system already. I can now see younger batches getting very high grades from our school. And it's a good thing, because applying for college is a total bummer when you have a grading system rigged to make you at lest several points dumber than your otherschool counterparts. 3 years out of my highschool life were spent carefully engineering my grades so I can have a decent record for my college application. By engineering, I mean cheating hard and studying harder (sometimes viceversa).
But you know, despite all that, between having to crawl your way through an insane number of long exams (3 per quarter, not including periodic finals) and looking at your lines of sevens after card distribution day, there was something nice that happened. I learned to stop looking at my grades (mainly because theyre always horrible and they never really improve no matter how hard I try) and just try to get some learning done.
Maybe that was what they were trying to get out of us in the first place. A learning oriented attitude. Apparently learning can be done much better by dangling looming threats (of failure) than big rewards (like high grades).
And maybe you'd be asking, why I said it was the grade system that was rigged and it wasn't us students who were stupid. Because we graduated, and then went on to college, and then proceeded to get the grades we never could have reached during our days in St. Andrew's.
By making us constantly unhappy about ourselves, we were pushed to improve beyond even our own self-set limits. It's got to be the craziest brilliant idea I remember seeing in that school. (apart from using reusable mugs for lugaw that kids throw into the trashcan every recess, but that's for another story.)
p.s.
Also, screw you. I'm not _that_ old.
Think about this. I was in the top ten. My average was no higher than 87.5. We're on a perfectly hierarchical arrangement and I'm on the best section. There were around 200 students in the batch. That means at some point after my grades, it only gets lower. To borrow the words of a senior of mine, "St. Andrew's is the only school where you study AND cheat AND still fail the goddamn exam."
Larry, a math genius motherfucker from our batch once perfected all the exams in mathematics for a quarter. I remember he got a 93. A 93. In other schools honor students would be pissing their shorts if they see a 93.
Another friend of mine was the second honor of the fourth and last section that year. His average was 79. You read that right. Having 50 students in a section that meant there were still 48 guys with even lower averages. I'm talking about guys who didn't ask their peers how many lines of sevens they got. These people counted the subjects that they were able to get to at least 80.
I can't remember ever gunning for grades that would take me to the honors level. With the kind of grading system we got and with the kind of treatment I got from my parents whenever I hit lines of sevens, I was happy enough to cling on to the 80's level. Every card distribution day was like OJ's handing-out-of-verdict day. I think that was when I developed a religious life. (for the week before and after the dreaded day anyway)
They've probably abolished the system already. I can now see younger batches getting very high grades from our school. And it's a good thing, because applying for college is a total bummer when you have a grading system rigged to make you at lest several points dumber than your otherschool counterparts. 3 years out of my highschool life were spent carefully engineering my grades so I can have a decent record for my college application. By engineering, I mean cheating hard and studying harder (sometimes viceversa).
But you know, despite all that, between having to crawl your way through an insane number of long exams (3 per quarter, not including periodic finals) and looking at your lines of sevens after card distribution day, there was something nice that happened. I learned to stop looking at my grades (mainly because theyre always horrible and they never really improve no matter how hard I try) and just try to get some learning done.
Maybe that was what they were trying to get out of us in the first place. A learning oriented attitude. Apparently learning can be done much better by dangling looming threats (of failure) than big rewards (like high grades).
And maybe you'd be asking, why I said it was the grade system that was rigged and it wasn't us students who were stupid. Because we graduated, and then went on to college, and then proceeded to get the grades we never could have reached during our days in St. Andrew's.
By making us constantly unhappy about ourselves, we were pushed to improve beyond even our own self-set limits. It's got to be the craziest brilliant idea I remember seeing in that school. (apart from using reusable mugs for lugaw that kids throw into the trashcan every recess, but that's for another story.)
p.s.
Also, screw you. I'm not _that_ old.
I Hate Ragnarok Online
Monday, January 14, 2008
So I was checking Master Diwa's blog for the first time when I saw this question on his site: Why in tarnations would I still stick to a game that's already five years old? With that kind of play record you'd think I like it. I don't. I hate it.
I hate Ragnarok Online.
I hate the way I have to spend money on it every month that I could have used somewhere else. But I'm glad I'm not spending that money on drugs. And if ever I do spend on them, at least I know I'm spending 350 less a month on them.
I hate the way it takes time away from other social things that I can be participating in. But I'm glad I don't have to pretend as much when I'm playing ingame.
I hate the way RO slows all my downloads down. But I'm glad it reduces the chances of me downloading more "worldly" files.
I hate its bad graphics. But I love the way the requirements fit nicely to the slow specs of our old laptop.
I hate the linear gameplay of this game - the limitation it presses on its players. But I love the way you dont have to do so much math when building characters compared to other games.
I hate its very incompleteness, its forever state of beta. But I'm glad there's always something new I can look forward to every new patch.
I hate the way bots tend to outnumber normal players in all maps. But I'm glad because of that, I lost the will to play as much now so I get more time for other things (like spamming).
I hate the way maps and servers go down when you want to play the most. But I'm glad I get the time to do basic self-cleaning when these things happen (like taking a bath).
I hate the way I get hacked when I start playing in dubious internet cafes even with gameguard in place. But I'm glad being hacked made me more religious, praying more than ever for the demise of whoever hacked me (Lord, kunin mo na po sya plx).
I hate the way I can never really trust almost anybody I meet in this game, regarding gender or any other matter. But I'm glad there are exceptions who can keep the deepest of my secrets and be honest enough about anything in return.
I hate the way I can hate this game as much as I can but in the end I'll still know it has already become a part of my life and that no matter how hard I try, I'll still find myself looking back at better memories and realize that happiness is more of a memory that is remembered than is a momentary event that is experienced.
Because I hate RO - for being unable to live with it and unable to live without it at the same time.
I hate Ragnarok Online.
But I'm glad I'm a part of it.
(grafted with article draft from 9/1/2006)
I hate Ragnarok Online.
I hate the way I have to spend money on it every month that I could have used somewhere else. But I'm glad I'm not spending that money on drugs. And if ever I do spend on them, at least I know I'm spending 350 less a month on them.
I hate the way it takes time away from other social things that I can be participating in. But I'm glad I don't have to pretend as much when I'm playing ingame.
I hate the way RO slows all my downloads down. But I'm glad it reduces the chances of me downloading more "worldly" files.
I hate its bad graphics. But I love the way the requirements fit nicely to the slow specs of our old laptop.
I hate the linear gameplay of this game - the limitation it presses on its players. But I love the way you dont have to do so much math when building characters compared to other games.
I hate its very incompleteness, its forever state of beta. But I'm glad there's always something new I can look forward to every new patch.
I hate the way bots tend to outnumber normal players in all maps. But I'm glad because of that, I lost the will to play as much now so I get more time for other things (like spamming).
I hate the way maps and servers go down when you want to play the most. But I'm glad I get the time to do basic self-cleaning when these things happen (like taking a bath).
I hate the way I get hacked when I start playing in dubious internet cafes even with gameguard in place. But I'm glad being hacked made me more religious, praying more than ever for the demise of whoever hacked me (Lord, kunin mo na po sya plx).
I hate the way I can never really trust almost anybody I meet in this game, regarding gender or any other matter. But I'm glad there are exceptions who can keep the deepest of my secrets and be honest enough about anything in return.
I hate the way I can hate this game as much as I can but in the end I'll still know it has already become a part of my life and that no matter how hard I try, I'll still find myself looking back at better memories and realize that happiness is more of a memory that is remembered than is a momentary event that is experienced.
Because I hate RO - for being unable to live with it and unable to live without it at the same time.
I hate Ragnarok Online.
But I'm glad I'm a part of it.
(grafted with article draft from 9/1/2006)
Team Overview for Amazing Race Asia 2
Friday, January 11, 2008
Amazing Race Asia 2 is basically The Amazing Race, minus Jerry Bruckheimer, minus the mildly part of the "midly retarded host", plus lots and lots of rice. But it's fun anyway since we all know Asians have been travelling around the globe for far longer than anybody else. As proof, the first person who circumnavigated the globe was not even Magellan, but Enrique de Malacca, probably as his private domestic helper. Anyway I'm watching Season two, and here's a quick overview of the remaining teams at the moment of writing (plus one team that already got eliminated, but I like them enough to include them)
Dancing Mums - Ann and Diane (Malaysia)
Ever get that feeling about somebody that just makes you go "what an asshole" even without ever seeing that person doing anything worthy of that remark? This team is kinda like that, but they deserve it because every week they find something to do that pisses everybody off. If they're not busy winning the leg of the race for that week, they're up and attem in shaming everybody related to them. "We are also looking forward to leaving our husbands and children for a month to win the race," Anna says in a half jesting, half serious manner. Bangup job, Ann, I'm sure your husband and kids have the same thoughts as well.
Odds they will kill each other before the race ends: 10%
Sisters - Pamela and Vanessa (Malaysia)
And I quote form the ARA website: Yes, both Malaysians realize that there is a lot riding on them to perform well, since the winners of the inaugural The Amazing Race Asia were Malaysian and also an all female team! Yeah. These two are probably one of the best reasons I watch the show. Every night I pray some sort of roadblock will force them to makeout or something. Yes, well, you'll never know. Seeing the rudimentary elements of English break down during their arguments is wellworth watching too, but that's kinda like saying you like watching porn for the plot twists. I'd still cheer for these two.
Married - Henry and Terry (Philippines)
Typical couple. Retired serviceman and native bride from hell. The guy is a navy man who underwent intense navy training, 10 years of hard service to his country in the Navy. He's built like a rock, trained for the worst - at least the worst anticipated problems in the Navy. It took only something like the biblically proportioned moving force of the moving mouth of the Filipina to turn him into a weeping pile of crumbs from his former glorious self. Pentagon officials may want to take this into consideration for their new weapons of mass destruction project. And if there's a moral lesson to be learned from this show, I'm pretty sure it's somewhere around these two.
Buddies - Marc and Rovilson (Philippines)
Let me start by asking this question: Who in their right mind would name their kid with a name that sounds like something that's better placed on the label of a medicine bottle? And who is this Rovilson guy anyway? An indonesian friend of mine asked me if he was a big celebrity here. Everybody else claims so, even though they don't really know where he's appeared before. People just kinda accepted him in complacency the same way they accepted formalin in fruits. I don't know who the hell he is, period. Anyway these guys are always leading, which is kind of okay, if you placed a bet on them or something. Otherwise it's making the show somewhat boring. Whenver there's a challenge, theyd do it in a this-is-how-its-done manner, and then leave the rest to the other teams to show how mildly-retarded people would go about the challenge.
Siblings - Daichi and Sawaka (Japan)
Incest is wincest. Kidding. I've never really seen native Japanese speaking english so well. I swear there's a pair of dubbers somehere outside the cameraview doing the talking for them. Actually they got elminated already. Sawaka is somewhat cute and sings quite well. Daichi is hmm, kinda like a douchebag - so that kinda balances it out. I'm not even sure why I included them here, but hey, JAPAN. I was half expecting Daichi to take out a magical pen at some point of the race and transform into a giant metallic dude wearing tights, always lowbatt and yelling "Utoraabeeeeemu". Sorry. Moving on...
Childhood friends - Paula and Natasha (Thailand)
I actually originally thought these two were from Australia or something, because they looked like anything but Thai. I've been around thai people. They don't look like these two - and they don't speak as much english either, unless "wa-eh-bahoo" is an acceptable english pronunciation of "waterbaloon". I'd complain about import players but I remember we have a black import in our teams too so I guess it's kind of okay. Next time though I'd like the Thai teams to be a bit more representative of their country. Like we have mail-order brides, they can have hookers. I'm not saying these two are hookers. I'm just saying there's a lot of them in Thailand.
GYM Buddies - Collin and Adrian (Singapore)
What the hell is gymbuddies anyway? More than friends, less than lovers, tied together by spotting and showers? I'm not really sure, and I'd rather not think about it too much. I also kinda feel sorry for these guys, right now and for the past six legs their sole objective is to catch up to Marc and Rovilson. Want to see a geniune look of a pissed Singaporean? Look at their faces everytime the finish second at ever leg. I got nothing more to say about these guys, since I find them boring. If not for their funky Russ Troll haircuts I probably wouldnt even have noticed. As a sidenote, a friend of mine says, "If ever Singapore decides to legalize samesex marriage, they know where to look for models."
Dancing Mums - Ann and Diane (Malaysia)
Ever get that feeling about somebody that just makes you go "what an asshole" even without ever seeing that person doing anything worthy of that remark? This team is kinda like that, but they deserve it because every week they find something to do that pisses everybody off. If they're not busy winning the leg of the race for that week, they're up and attem in shaming everybody related to them. "We are also looking forward to leaving our husbands and children for a month to win the race," Anna says in a half jesting, half serious manner. Bangup job, Ann, I'm sure your husband and kids have the same thoughts as well.
Odds they will kill each other before the race ends: 10%
Sisters - Pamela and Vanessa (Malaysia)
And I quote form the ARA website: Yes, both Malaysians realize that there is a lot riding on them to perform well, since the winners of the inaugural The Amazing Race Asia were Malaysian and also an all female team! Yeah. These two are probably one of the best reasons I watch the show. Every night I pray some sort of roadblock will force them to makeout or something. Yes, well, you'll never know. Seeing the rudimentary elements of English break down during their arguments is wellworth watching too, but that's kinda like saying you like watching porn for the plot twists. I'd still cheer for these two.
Married - Henry and Terry (Philippines)
Typical couple. Retired serviceman and native bride from hell. The guy is a navy man who underwent intense navy training, 10 years of hard service to his country in the Navy. He's built like a rock, trained for the worst - at least the worst anticipated problems in the Navy. It took only something like the biblically proportioned moving force of the moving mouth of the Filipina to turn him into a weeping pile of crumbs from his former glorious self. Pentagon officials may want to take this into consideration for their new weapons of mass destruction project. And if there's a moral lesson to be learned from this show, I'm pretty sure it's somewhere around these two.
Buddies - Marc and Rovilson (Philippines)
Let me start by asking this question: Who in their right mind would name their kid with a name that sounds like something that's better placed on the label of a medicine bottle? And who is this Rovilson guy anyway? An indonesian friend of mine asked me if he was a big celebrity here. Everybody else claims so, even though they don't really know where he's appeared before. People just kinda accepted him in complacency the same way they accepted formalin in fruits. I don't know who the hell he is, period. Anyway these guys are always leading, which is kind of okay, if you placed a bet on them or something. Otherwise it's making the show somewhat boring. Whenver there's a challenge, theyd do it in a this-is-how-its-done manner, and then leave the rest to the other teams to show how mildly-retarded people would go about the challenge.
Siblings - Daichi and Sawaka (Japan)
Incest is wincest. Kidding. I've never really seen native Japanese speaking english so well. I swear there's a pair of dubbers somehere outside the cameraview doing the talking for them. Actually they got elminated already. Sawaka is somewhat cute and sings quite well. Daichi is hmm, kinda like a douchebag - so that kinda balances it out. I'm not even sure why I included them here, but hey, JAPAN. I was half expecting Daichi to take out a magical pen at some point of the race and transform into a giant metallic dude wearing tights, always lowbatt and yelling "Utoraabeeeeemu". Sorry. Moving on...
Childhood friends - Paula and Natasha (Thailand)
I actually originally thought these two were from Australia or something, because they looked like anything but Thai. I've been around thai people. They don't look like these two - and they don't speak as much english either, unless "wa-eh-bahoo" is an acceptable english pronunciation of "waterbaloon". I'd complain about import players but I remember we have a black import in our teams too so I guess it's kind of okay. Next time though I'd like the Thai teams to be a bit more representative of their country. Like we have mail-order brides, they can have hookers. I'm not saying these two are hookers. I'm just saying there's a lot of them in Thailand.
GYM Buddies - Collin and Adrian (Singapore)
What the hell is gymbuddies anyway? More than friends, less than lovers, tied together by spotting and showers? I'm not really sure, and I'd rather not think about it too much. I also kinda feel sorry for these guys, right now and for the past six legs their sole objective is to catch up to Marc and Rovilson. Want to see a geniune look of a pissed Singaporean? Look at their faces everytime the finish second at ever leg. I got nothing more to say about these guys, since I find them boring. If not for their funky Russ Troll haircuts I probably wouldnt even have noticed. As a sidenote, a friend of mine says, "If ever Singapore decides to legalize samesex marriage, they know where to look for models."
Five Amazingly Bad RO Monsters
Thursday, January 10, 2008
I'm guessing every kid in the videogames-is-where-its-shitting generation dreams of working for game design companies. We all wanted a work that involves thinking of epic video game concepts and designing jaw-drop graphics for characters sporting barely covered female parts.
Unfortunately, most of those kids end up getting too addicted to videogames. flunk out, and end up mixing cement or selling balut during nightshifts to those who mix the cement. The lucky few that do get past that point to actually work for game companies either end up designing shitty games for the mobile phone or get too mired with the "adult stuff" to remember what made games awesome in the first place.
Actually that intro isn't even related to what I'll be writing about today, I just wanted to get that out of my head. Anyway Ragnarok Online(RO) is an online RPG game, loved by people for its simplistic design and low PC requirements. I've started playing again recently and decided that some monsters of that game are cool, and were probably made with "cool" in mind. But then again, there are others that were probably added in towards the end of the design phase, assumingly by coffee-drowned people sitting in a meeting room for two hours and too occupied struggling to hold their urine in. Out of desperation they made really crappy monsters just so they could meet their monster-creating quota.
This article is the first of that list of "latak" monsters. Without further ado, we start with our first monster:
Geographer
What it's supposed to be:
It's a mutated plant that harasses all nearby warriors by attacking it with vicious appendages.
Why it sucks:
It's a plant that looks like a sunflower. A sunflower, provided you don't have any allergies pose as much a threat to you as Philippines would to, say, Russia (unless theyre all allergic to Filipinos there). I can't think of a situation where you'll be proud to say you gained the strength of a hunter by shooting flowers. That doesn't make you a hunter. It makes you a flower picking hippie, or a farmer at best. The monster can't move, with its only skill being healing - making it about as threatening as an NPC. The only challenge it presents is the alarming number of other players who want to kill it faster than you. Damn hippies.
Enchanted Soil, Mi Gao
What it's supposed to be:
It's magically animated soil controlled by the spirit of the guardians of Louyang to prevent foreigners from entering their cursed country.
Why it sucks:
My girlfriend told me the soils look like menacing empanadas. That's already going out of the way to describe them, considering they actually look like semicircles that try to kill you. I remember we already had something like this before. Yeah, I think the dots from Pacman looked like Mi Gaos. I thought semicircles went out of fashion already after we learned to use 8bits for computer games. I guess I'm wrong.
Mysteltainn
What it's supposed to be:
Sentient sword of darkness forged by a legendary black smith, using the very twig that killed the God of Light, Baldur.
Why it sucks:
Look at the description. I slightly wet my pants thinking how awesome something with that description can get. The mysteltainn is supposed to be a godkilling sword that thinks for itself. You'd think people won't get stuff like that wrong anymore. I did, and I thought wrong. Take a look at the RO monster. It has something I never thought anybody would attach to an inanimate object outside a cheaply made battery commercial: STICK ARMS AND LEGS. What the fuck were they thinking? "Oooh a sword that comes to life. I know something similar that we might base our art on. Pinnochio!" The end product is a sword that has a very long body and very thin arms, with the tip of the sword extending down his legs in a disproportionate manner that remotely suggests a dangling penis. And then how does it attack? It swings its body towards you like it wants to teabag you or something. From godkiller to awkward teabagger - save the career of Ashley Simpson, there's no failure bigger than that.
Rocker
What it's supposed to be:
Oversized grasshopper monster that kills people for fun. ... ... ... Yes, I'm trying very hard here.
Why it sucks:
It's a grasshopper. It's larger than a man. It has a guitar a funny hat and occasionally, it has eyeglasses. In the artworld we call it surrealist bullshit. If M.C. Escher's paintings have citizens the Rocker would probably be the town mayor. I'm pretty sure it took more than just an enlarged gallbladder to convince people that a monster like this should be in a game like Ragnarok Online. The only way to appreciate the Rocker is to be as high in weed as the game designers who made this horrible enemy. I tried to find sense in this monster, I really did. I ended up just wasting an hour of my life over nothing. The Rocker should be the textbook example to the kids who dream to become game designers in the future. "Here it is kids," says the preschool teacher, "proof that you can do better."
Boiled Rice
What it's supposed to be:
We here at Public Static have no idea whatsoever. Staple Korean food?
Why it sucks:
Stop the presses, we have a winner. Rice. Not just rice. Boiled rice. I wonder if fried rice would be somewhat more intimidating, all that oil might be good for something sinister. I guess fighting boiled rice is awesome, since you're actually fighting 2000 rice grains uniting against you. But then again, if you did win against it, you'll have this voice at the back of your head whispering "You're wasting perfectly good grace there." and you'd probably see images of your parents getting ready to beat your ass. Lose-lose situation. Okay, let me just let this out. WHO IN HIS RIGHT MIND WOULD THINK OF COOKED RICE AS SOMETHING THAT SHOULD BE FOUGHT WITH BRUTE FORCE? Really. WHO?
I'd like to think Boiled Rice was a mistake. Like it's supposed to be an item and then accidentally got put into the suggested monsters list. Maybe the gamedesigners weren't being lazy, they were just being careless. I don't know.
Let's just put it this way. If somebody asks you to think of a good qualities of an RPG monster and then you start thinking that being a potential sources of carbohydrates as a sinister trait, you're missing the fucking point. By miles. You should try getting another job, preferably one that does not involve making calls that affect the mental capacity of other people.
That or go play in traffic blindfolded.
Unfortunately, most of those kids end up getting too addicted to videogames. flunk out, and end up mixing cement or selling balut during nightshifts to those who mix the cement. The lucky few that do get past that point to actually work for game companies either end up designing shitty games for the mobile phone or get too mired with the "adult stuff" to remember what made games awesome in the first place.
Actually that intro isn't even related to what I'll be writing about today, I just wanted to get that out of my head. Anyway Ragnarok Online(RO) is an online RPG game, loved by people for its simplistic design and low PC requirements. I've started playing again recently and decided that some monsters of that game are cool, and were probably made with "cool" in mind. But then again, there are others that were probably added in towards the end of the design phase, assumingly by coffee-drowned people sitting in a meeting room for two hours and too occupied struggling to hold their urine in. Out of desperation they made really crappy monsters just so they could meet their monster-creating quota.
This article is the first of that list of "latak" monsters. Without further ado, we start with our first monster:
Geographer
What it's supposed to be:
It's a mutated plant that harasses all nearby warriors by attacking it with vicious appendages.
Why it sucks:
It's a plant that looks like a sunflower. A sunflower, provided you don't have any allergies pose as much a threat to you as Philippines would to, say, Russia (unless theyre all allergic to Filipinos there). I can't think of a situation where you'll be proud to say you gained the strength of a hunter by shooting flowers. That doesn't make you a hunter. It makes you a flower picking hippie, or a farmer at best. The monster can't move, with its only skill being healing - making it about as threatening as an NPC. The only challenge it presents is the alarming number of other players who want to kill it faster than you. Damn hippies.
Enchanted Soil, Mi Gao
What it's supposed to be:
It's magically animated soil controlled by the spirit of the guardians of Louyang to prevent foreigners from entering their cursed country.
Why it sucks:
My girlfriend told me the soils look like menacing empanadas. That's already going out of the way to describe them, considering they actually look like semicircles that try to kill you. I remember we already had something like this before. Yeah, I think the dots from Pacman looked like Mi Gaos. I thought semicircles went out of fashion already after we learned to use 8bits for computer games. I guess I'm wrong.
Mysteltainn
What it's supposed to be:
Sentient sword of darkness forged by a legendary black smith, using the very twig that killed the God of Light, Baldur.
Why it sucks:
Look at the description. I slightly wet my pants thinking how awesome something with that description can get. The mysteltainn is supposed to be a godkilling sword that thinks for itself. You'd think people won't get stuff like that wrong anymore. I did, and I thought wrong. Take a look at the RO monster. It has something I never thought anybody would attach to an inanimate object outside a cheaply made battery commercial: STICK ARMS AND LEGS. What the fuck were they thinking? "Oooh a sword that comes to life. I know something similar that we might base our art on. Pinnochio!" The end product is a sword that has a very long body and very thin arms, with the tip of the sword extending down his legs in a disproportionate manner that remotely suggests a dangling penis. And then how does it attack? It swings its body towards you like it wants to teabag you or something. From godkiller to awkward teabagger - save the career of Ashley Simpson, there's no failure bigger than that.
Rocker
What it's supposed to be:
Oversized grasshopper monster that kills people for fun. ... ... ... Yes, I'm trying very hard here.
Why it sucks:
It's a grasshopper. It's larger than a man. It has a guitar a funny hat and occasionally, it has eyeglasses. In the artworld we call it surrealist bullshit. If M.C. Escher's paintings have citizens the Rocker would probably be the town mayor. I'm pretty sure it took more than just an enlarged gallbladder to convince people that a monster like this should be in a game like Ragnarok Online. The only way to appreciate the Rocker is to be as high in weed as the game designers who made this horrible enemy. I tried to find sense in this monster, I really did. I ended up just wasting an hour of my life over nothing. The Rocker should be the textbook example to the kids who dream to become game designers in the future. "Here it is kids," says the preschool teacher, "proof that you can do better."
Boiled Rice
What it's supposed to be:
We here at Public Static have no idea whatsoever. Staple Korean food?
Why it sucks:
Stop the presses, we have a winner. Rice. Not just rice. Boiled rice. I wonder if fried rice would be somewhat more intimidating, all that oil might be good for something sinister. I guess fighting boiled rice is awesome, since you're actually fighting 2000 rice grains uniting against you. But then again, if you did win against it, you'll have this voice at the back of your head whispering "You're wasting perfectly good grace there." and you'd probably see images of your parents getting ready to beat your ass. Lose-lose situation. Okay, let me just let this out. WHO IN HIS RIGHT MIND WOULD THINK OF COOKED RICE AS SOMETHING THAT SHOULD BE FOUGHT WITH BRUTE FORCE? Really. WHO?
I'd like to think Boiled Rice was a mistake. Like it's supposed to be an item and then accidentally got put into the suggested monsters list. Maybe the gamedesigners weren't being lazy, they were just being careless. I don't know.
Let's just put it this way. If somebody asks you to think of a good qualities of an RPG monster and then you start thinking that being a potential sources of carbohydrates as a sinister trait, you're missing the fucking point. By miles. You should try getting another job, preferably one that does not involve making calls that affect the mental capacity of other people.
That or go play in traffic blindfolded.
Screw-o-Meter Rating For Zombie Attacks
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Tolerable: You're walking in a graveyard at night.
Somewhat Bad: Zombies start coming out of the ground.
Somewhat Horrible: Flesh eating zombies.
Horrible: Zombies start dancing.
Really Horrible: Zombies start dancing with Michael Jackson moves.
You're-fucked-now horrible: You're prepubescent.
Could-it-get-worse-than-this horrible: a zombie who looks like Michael Jackson appears.
Hell-on-earth: Indian music starts playing.
If you're still looking for the next level, don't bother. Just start running the fuck away.
Somewhat Bad: Zombies start coming out of the ground.
Somewhat Horrible: Flesh eating zombies.
Horrible: Zombies start dancing.
Really Horrible: Zombies start dancing with Michael Jackson moves.
You're-fucked-now horrible: You're prepubescent.
Could-it-get-worse-than-this horrible: a zombie who looks like Michael Jackson appears.
Hell-on-earth: Indian music starts playing.
If you're still looking for the next level, don't bother. Just start running the fuck away.
505 post marker.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
505 posts. That's a year and a half's worth of posts. To those who've been there since the start, thanks for sticking around. To those who've come a bit late, or are just stumbling upon this site, thanks for visiting anyway. I can claim that I'm writing on this site for my own satisfaction but I'd be lying if I said that. I want to vent, true. I also want people to smile. Then I want to vent on those who're smiling, and maybe they'd learn a thing or two somewhere in the process.
Most of the time I try to stay away from private issues of my life here in Public Static, but seeing this is a special opportunity to attention whore, I'll indulge.
I'm still at the company I joined a year before starting this site. I'm now also actively participating in the stock market. The standup comedy dream is still very real to me right now but the book publishing gig isn't. I broke up with somebody shortly after starting this blog. 505 posts later I've found myself loving somebody again - I'd like to think this is the last. I lost and gained friends because of these events, and I have no regrets. The shirt printing business is up in smoke, but the blueprints are still preserved. (I'm still willing to teach interested people how to do things, and why I failed) The net commerce project is still under development, but right now I'm not into thinking about it too much. I'm still writing fiction for both RO and mainstream, though not as frequently. I've started playing Ragnarok Online again, though not as seriously as before.
During the last 505 posts, I've cosplayed, done standup comedy, made short films, played piano pieces (and poorly), gone traveling to different parts of the country but it seems not even another 500 posts will cover other stuff I want to do. As of writing, I still have not drawn up any concrete plans on how to invade Sabah and Guam. Too lazy.
That's about it. The reason I never write anything about my personal life is that it's far more boring than other stuff I write about (like midgets, north koreans, and porn) .
I know the edit quality of my posts isn't exactly the best. People have offered help, but I'd rather not trouble people if I can't even trouble myself to fix my own mistakes. I love writing, but the moment I edit, that's the moment I start taking things seriously. I don't want that for this site. Not right now.
Usually you thank people after something is already over, but that's just ignant. I'll do it now while we're still both alive, while this blog is still active, and while the internet hasn't been wiped out by the massive waves of stupidity crashing into it everyday. Thank you all for reading my articles, random and senseless as they may come. It makes me happy to see you guys happy.
That's all for now.
The future King of the Kingdoms of Sabah and Guam,
Redkinoko.
Most of the time I try to stay away from private issues of my life here in Public Static, but seeing this is a special opportunity to attention whore, I'll indulge.
I'm still at the company I joined a year before starting this site. I'm now also actively participating in the stock market. The standup comedy dream is still very real to me right now but the book publishing gig isn't. I broke up with somebody shortly after starting this blog. 505 posts later I've found myself loving somebody again - I'd like to think this is the last. I lost and gained friends because of these events, and I have no regrets. The shirt printing business is up in smoke, but the blueprints are still preserved. (I'm still willing to teach interested people how to do things, and why I failed) The net commerce project is still under development, but right now I'm not into thinking about it too much. I'm still writing fiction for both RO and mainstream, though not as frequently. I've started playing Ragnarok Online again, though not as seriously as before.
During the last 505 posts, I've cosplayed, done standup comedy, made short films, played piano pieces (and poorly), gone traveling to different parts of the country but it seems not even another 500 posts will cover other stuff I want to do. As of writing, I still have not drawn up any concrete plans on how to invade Sabah and Guam. Too lazy.
That's about it. The reason I never write anything about my personal life is that it's far more boring than other stuff I write about (like midgets, north koreans, and porn) .
I know the edit quality of my posts isn't exactly the best. People have offered help, but I'd rather not trouble people if I can't even trouble myself to fix my own mistakes. I love writing, but the moment I edit, that's the moment I start taking things seriously. I don't want that for this site. Not right now.
Usually you thank people after something is already over, but that's just ignant. I'll do it now while we're still both alive, while this blog is still active, and while the internet hasn't been wiped out by the massive waves of stupidity crashing into it everyday. Thank you all for reading my articles, random and senseless as they may come. It makes me happy to see you guys happy.
That's all for now.
The future King of the Kingdoms of Sabah and Guam,
Redkinoko.
NicoNico Douga Anime Medley Parts 1 & 2
To those who're still asking, here's the fagshare of mp3 rips of the nicodouga videos I've been sending out to everybody:
http://rapidshare.com/files/81848421/animeguitarmedley.zip.html
To those who still have no idea of what I'm talking about, the zipfile contains two mp3s containing a medley of mostly standard mainstream Japanese anime/vg music from Higurashi, Haruhi, Lucky Star, Air, IdolM@ster and others, in a beautiful rendition by two guitars and an insane number of fingers. Make sure you're on the ground floor before you hear the mix of ChronoCross's Radical Dreamers and Okusenman - you may end up shitting too many bricks and cause your house to collapse.
Niconico Douga is basically the Japanese equivalent of YouTube with a slightly better bandwidth, a more dynamic comment system, and less videos filled with attentionwhores. PM me if you need access accounts. Or better yet, make your own.
http://rapidshare.com/files/81848421/animeguitarmedley.zip.html
To those who still have no idea of what I'm talking about, the zipfile contains two mp3s containing a medley of mostly standard mainstream Japanese anime/vg music from Higurashi, Haruhi, Lucky Star, Air, IdolM@ster and others, in a beautiful rendition by two guitars and an insane number of fingers. Make sure you're on the ground floor before you hear the mix of ChronoCross's Radical Dreamers and Okusenman - you may end up shitting too many bricks and cause your house to collapse.
Niconico Douga is basically the Japanese equivalent of YouTube with a slightly better bandwidth, a more dynamic comment system, and less videos filled with attentionwhores. PM me if you need access accounts. Or better yet, make your own.
This Article Is Best Viewed At A 40 Degree Angle
Friday, January 04, 2008
As I was taking a look at various friendster accounts today, I realized that one thing that we may have lost over the years apart from free-spirited sex and decent literacy levels is the inherent ability of man to keep the camera straight.
Nowadays apart from getting stiffies from looking at pictures of hot women, it wouldn't be too surprising to get a stiff neck as well. Maybe in the future we can get advisory labels around websites like "This page is best seen from a viewing angle of 39.8 degrees.
Long story short, here's my take:
STOP USING WEIRD ANGLES.
PANGO PA RIN ANG ILONG MO.
There. Have a happy new year.
Nowadays apart from getting stiffies from looking at pictures of hot women, it wouldn't be too surprising to get a stiff neck as well. Maybe in the future we can get advisory labels around websites like "This page is best seen from a viewing angle of 39.8 degrees.
Long story short, here's my take:
STOP USING WEIRD ANGLES.
PANGO PA RIN ANG ILONG MO.
There. Have a happy new year.
Random Thoughts
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
I still don't know what it is in chloroform that gets them agreeing to whatever I say. Whoever invented "silence means yes" probably has chloroform at hand when he first coined it.
So last night, I cracked a joke so horrible, people who saw it started requesting to get into witness protection program.
What did the polar bear say to the Panda? Doesn't matter, the Polar Bears don't know Chinese and the Pandas don't know why they're in a place with Polar Bears.
I bet if you could suggest a law that changes how laws should be passed, we can create an endless loop in the Senate.
Any marriage can be saved by a sufficient amount of fireworks (carefully aimed at the in-laws)
Why do people say "fishcake" when something's easy? Cakes are anything but easy for fish, unless you're a swordfish - then you'd at least get the cutting part down.
When you start removing skeletons from the closet, does that make the skeletons gay?
It takes a big man to cry, specially if he's chasing you with a thorny baseball bat.
Women like men who cry, if only so they can appreciate better their torture techniques.
So last night, I cracked a joke so horrible, people who saw it started requesting to get into witness protection program.
What did the polar bear say to the Panda? Doesn't matter, the Polar Bears don't know Chinese and the Pandas don't know why they're in a place with Polar Bears.
I bet if you could suggest a law that changes how laws should be passed, we can create an endless loop in the Senate.
Any marriage can be saved by a sufficient amount of fireworks (carefully aimed at the in-laws)
Why do people say "fishcake" when something's easy? Cakes are anything but easy for fish, unless you're a swordfish - then you'd at least get the cutting part down.
When you start removing skeletons from the closet, does that make the skeletons gay?
It takes a big man to cry, specially if he's chasing you with a thorny baseball bat.
Women like men who cry, if only so they can appreciate better their torture techniques.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)