Diablo III

Monday, June 30, 2008

Diablo 3 is now being worked on I hear. Kind of sad, since on the other side of the fence, we're still waiting for the Second Coming.

Some random dumps

Saturday, June 28, 2008

There are some things you just can't hurry, and others you can't hurry enough.

You can't get caught swerving on a laneless road.

A overcareful engineer is one who works his way fixing the small problems while entirely avoiding the biggest one of all.

Quick grammar pop quiz.
PCU's Vision: A distinctively strong Christian University

What is the syntatic role of 'distinctively'? (noun, verb, etc.)

Fucking Duh


So it's come to this. Our collective intelligence has dropped to a point where our comic books have to point out figures of speech for us. Comic books. Heh. I never saw that coming.

Light a candle. Humanity is doomed.

A Horsey Horse Horse Future

Friday, June 27, 2008

I'd like to make a prediction as early as now. Fuel prices will keep on getting higher, and there will come a day when we'll all wake up to see that the iron horse statues on our jeepneys have come alive to take over our roads again as the rightful "street kings" one more time - and then maybe proceed to litter our roads with splendor. By splendor I mean steaming horse dung.

I remember already telling you guys about how it's gonna roll when that happens. At least how it's gonna roll for me. Fuck yeah.

I bet when the horse revolution arrives, lifestyles will change too. Suddenly walking around topless for men will be fashionable again, along with sunkissed tans, greasy shoulders, and lots of chest hair. Then we'd be going by very long names like Federico Miguel Marco de LaGermania or something like that. Our houses will turn into haciendas and our dogs will be called "pulgoso"s.

Don't ask me why. You never ask why. I'm like seeing the future with my third eye here.

Of course I'm not surprised how people will find this idea preposterous, but with the cost of fuel rising and the current oversupply of talahib, dayame, and homeless people - suddenly strutting around on a horse becomes too viable.

Other observations that I made in this visions are as follows:

- Delivered fastfood will have a strange scent. Fries might not be the same quality as the ones bought dine-in and will have the mandatory ass-flavoring.
- Making out at the back of the "taxi" is no longer viable, since the back of the taxi will now contain heaps of emergency grass.
- Punas-windshield boys will have to turn to some other business (like horseshoe polishing)
- Teenage riders will have their horses' legs lowered and their assholes enlarged to make it appear their horses are more powerful (or gay)
- Green pine air fresheners will now be hung on horse necks everywhere, together with rosaries, sto. niños.
- Public horses will have "Katas ng xxxx" stamped in their asscheeks.
- Color coding will finally be about colors. Horse mane colors.
- Fuck towing. You don't want to see that happen.

Where will you be when the horse revolution comes?

A Dream

Monday, June 23, 2008

Suppose for one moment that there exists a world that is very similar to ours except for one aspect. Suppose that one aspect is that sight is done in reverse. In this world, you do not see things. Rather, you are allowed to see things. You can see the image of something because it lets you see it. In this world, vision is achieved in reverse - unless an object allows you to see it, it will remain invisible to you. Inanimate objects possess no will, and are allowed to be seen as soon as they are within the range of normal sight. Every thing else, the living creatures, cannot be seen until they see it fit that you see them. This is a world where everyone is a ghost until they decide to come alive.

A child is born within the confines of PGH. He is born blind and seeing at the same time. Around him are objects - a bed, a stainless steel pan, and fluorescents flickering above. Sounds of rejoice are heard, but there is nobody else around the room. The baby cries at his fate, his fate of being alone. Suddenly, he is hoisted by an unseen hand, held with his feet and inverted into the air. A mild slap in his buttocks is felt. He cries some more. The infant blinks, and in opening his eyes, he sees the first person of this world - his own mother. She is smiling, and there are now two of them in the room. He calms down, and rests at the mother's bosom. He shall remain alone with her in this world for a while until he feels the need to be alone for the first time.

In the next room, a man is dying in his bed. The room is noisy, but there is no sound of mourning. Death is merely the disappearance of a person, and in a world where people are mostly unseen, this is nothing out of the ordinary. Soon he expires and as the beddings is changed; his body is discarded with the sheets. There is no remorse spent on the man. And the only thing he will leave behind are memories of his voice, and only for as long as those who have heard it are able to keep the memory alive.

In Malate, a young man walks into Common Grounds, a noisy club. As he steps into the door, he hears the booming fusion music. The interior is filled with chairs, tables, drinks, lights. He stands alone in the middle of the bar and takes a drink. He feels dancing around him, elbows rubbing, hips grinding - but he is the only person in the room. The music plays on, and soon he feels the creep of alcohol in his blood. He starts dancing as well, without being inhibited. He will not be seen by anybody else - hence he can do whatever he pleases and is never embarrassed. The sun rises, and the music dies down. The man quietly finishes his drink, gathers his belongings and leaves the bar without ever coming across another human being. The man feels satisfied, and will keep on going back, though fully knowledgeable of the fact that he will never see what it truly is like to be with people.

Along Taft Avenue, cars move to and fro, but without any drivers. In this stream of traffic, no cursing is heard, only car horns. People do not curse, for there is nobody to curse, the cars could be moving by themselves to nobody's care. In this world, traffic rules are carried out with religious zeal. Pedestrians cannot be seen by the drivers and could be anywhere. When the stoplight turns to red, all cars stop as necessary, and never moves an inch too soon. Public transportation can only stop at certain parts of the road at certain times, for there is no telling if there is anybody flagging a jeep down. One simple cannot see such things. Work for the transport driver is a thankless one. He will never really know whether he has a passenger or not. Instead he just drives in loops, stopping and moving as dictated by his schedule, never waiting for anybody. People go places without coming across other people. Everything is made quickly.

Within the University of the Philippines, a class in Sociology is in session. Books are on the table, writings are on the chalkboard. There is an examination on going, but no papers are ever used. Examinations are done verbally, for there is no telling how easily one could cheat his or her way in a written exam, with the eyes invisible from the professor. In the examination, everybody is silent until their names are called, and by then only the professor and the student. Nobody ever cheats, for whispers are too easily heard. Books are always available but the answers are never made to appear in books for it will make things easy for the students who need to learn hardship. Such is the conduct of learning in this world, a world were books are always open, and never able to teach what is necessary.

Two friends are walking side by side along the Bay Walk. They have known each other since birth, and have grown up alongside one another, but without ever seeing each other. They talk of many things, food, the view, the passing kite that is pulled by the same air that pushes it, the band of instruments playing at a distance. Adjacent to them the sun is slowly setting. Both friends remain quiet. In this world, people hardly stop talking. By giving out commands, opinions, expositions, they are deemed existing. The moment people stay quiet, they are assumed to be no longer there. There is no silence but that of visual silence. But as the sun set, the two people stood quiet. The embers of the afternoon sun touched the see and turned the waves into magnificent burning ripples of fire. At the last possible moment, just before the streetlamps lights up and the sun vanishes, the two friends look at each other and see for the first time – and only for a few fleeting moments. They will never see each other again for the rest of their lifetimes, but they deem the experience to last a lifetime. They are to get married soon after, and live their merry lives at the companionship of the other.

This is the world of effects. You see the consequences of people but never the cause. A fire is lit, a tree is cut down, a bottle of milk is overturned, and people never ask how. In this world, everything is explained by not explaining at all. Things are just as they are. The cause is always unattributable, and people have learned to be accepting of this fact.

This is the world of will. People are no longer inhibited by coexistences hence they do as they please. They are no longer made liable for their actions, and they develop their own set of principles. Some people grow conscious of the unseen world, and try to imagine as though they were within his presence - though he will never be really sure of such a thing. Others will learn to be carefree, assuming that the world is indeed for their own purposes - and mankind is a solitaire in the rough. Criminals are indistinguishable from saints. Saints, indistinguishable from gods.

This is a world where privacy exists as the most important element of life. People go about with their lives without ever letting themselves be seen by most people they know. And in being able to do so, gifting another with the privilege of vision becomes almost priceless, more so than respect, and only a little below true love. Couples get to see each other, and then shy away at first sight, or they stay within the vision of each other, and find the world suddenly cramped, choking. There is no room for two people in the world, and they soon make do with the setup of being with each other and never seeing eye to eye. In a world where privacy becomes more valuable than living, life itself becomes privacy incarnate.

In this world, loneliness is a constant in the atmosphere, from man's first breath in living in this world, until the last one he draws shortly before his death. Loneliness becomes a companion of life itself, and soon enough it becomes accepted in normalcy. In this world, loneliness is the vision that never disappears. One accepts his solitary nature as quickly as he would the need of air to survive. This is the world where everybody is born alone, lives alone, and dies alone, and everything is done in communal singularity.

I had a dream last night, and in that dream this world is real.

Written for Mau, at the request of writing an essay about changes made by information technology. Republished with permission.

Friday Thoughts

Friday, June 20, 2008

In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king, or in the absence of one, a blind guy who has enough IQ to figure out that even if he did say he's got one, two, or a hundred eyes, and nobody will ever know if he's just fucking around or not.

As a kid I thought albino people were God's favorites. He covered them with highlighter ink because they were more important than others.

I bet if the oil prices keep rising at this rate, we'd have to start using horses again. But with the current food shortage, we won't be able to afford feeding horses for long and start replacing them with hungry people instead. I'd like to call this phenomenon the going-back-to-our-roots phenomenon, just because it sounds horribly complicated.

Once I complained about my previous companies mandatory Saturday work policy. My supervisor replied "God worked overtime on the first Saturday of this world, you think you're any better?"

I had an imaginary friend when I was young. I thought one day I'd pay it forward and become somebody's imaginary friend, but I get discouraged by the fact that I named my friend "ickyballs" and that somebody out there could do worse in renaming me.

As a kid it wasn't really the imaginary friends that I worried about. It was the imaginary enemies we had, and how we could defeat them with only so many imaginary beng-beng guns.

Pets

Thursday, June 19, 2008

I suck at taking care of pets. I've decided that if ever I take on a new pet, it'd be a cockroach. Cockroaches are already doing well without me taking care of them, and I'm very fond of independent people (or pets for that matter). And if in case my pet still dies, and somebody asks about it, I can always say I'm just doing pest control. :)

Laban Ng Tansan: The Real Tin Pin Slammer

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

I was playing a Nintendo DS game entitled "The World Ends With You" the other day, and in that game there was a mini-game of sorts called the Tin Pin Slammer. The Tin Pin Slammer is basically a game wherein one player attempts to knock the other player's pins out of the battlefield by slamming against each other, with Powerups and special battlegrounds that the player can use to his or her advantage.

pictured: TWEWY's Tin Pin Slammer

I thought, hey, that's cool. A lot of videogame critics hail the mini-game as one of the more addicting features of the DS game f0r being simple and innovative at the same time.

It's nice. But you know what? In my book, it's neither new nor innovative. As a matter of fact, 17 years ago we already had the very same game we played as kids. Sure it wasn't as popular, but it wasn't inferior to the DS version either.

It didn't have a formal name, but we called it "Laban ng Tansan" (Battle of the Bottle Caps).
pictured: The 2-decade older predecessor

Nowadays fewer and fewer kids are able to get their soda in bottles and unless bottled beer starts getting served in schools (legally), this sport is bound to die out. My memory isn't as good as it used to be either so I'll do my best to try and leave a record of the game's mechanics on this page for the future generation's reference.

The premise is not too different from Tin Pin Slammer. Each player uses one or any other number of "tansans" (bottle caps) against the same number of tansans of another player. The end goal is to either knock the cap of the opponent out of a ring, destroy the cap, or flip the opponent's cap upside down. For multi-tansan battles, the game ends once all the tansans are put out of commission.

Movement is done by flicking the tansan with the index finger or the middle finger ("pitik"). Any other method such as pushing with the finger is illegal. Also, you cannot flick a tansan when a cap is headed its way - this is to prevent your finger from absorbing the impact of the other tansan. Because of this, turns develops during a game.

Playing fields can determine other rules for victory. If there are water hazards nearby (like a creek, canal, or gutter), falling into the water (or whatever putrid liquid is flowing through) is a loss. The same goes for high places, which are well known for shattering certain types of caps.

Like any other sport, there are different types of tansan designs used. I'll be explaining the types, how to make them and their advantages and disadvantages. Variations of these types also exist, but we will not be discussing them in this article.

1. Ordinary Configuration
Well balanced in both offense and defense, this is a very good beginner's tansan. It's also the most common configuration, because kids who play this game are mostly the lazy types of kids who can't be bothered to work on more complex projects like a saranggola or toy carts.

How it's made:
This is basically your default tansan, ready to rock after being removed from the bottle.
Advantages:
The tansan is very easy to flick and control. By being symmetric on all sides, it cannot be flanked or attacked from behind.
Disadvantages:
This configuration is weak against every type in the list, though when controlled by a skilled player, a win against every type is not really impossible.

2. Fully-flattened Configuration
A more defensive type, the fully-flattened tansan is the rarest type in the list.

How it's made:
The tansan is laid on a very flat cement surface and then pressure is applied directly on top by using something hard like the back sole of a shoe or a large flat rock. The impact must be directly above the tansan or the tansan will warp and will be rendered unusable by its unstable shape.
Advantages:
This tansan's strength is it's stability. Having a very low profile means, short of getting knocked out of the ring, flipping it over on a very smooth surface is very very hard. The flatter the tansan is the more stable it gets, putting emphasis on the quality of its construction.
Disadvantages:
Whatever defensive capabilities you get with this configuration, you lose out on offensive capabilities. You're flat and very very light. Goliaths (overlapping configuration) won't even move even if you execute a full forced pitik. It's very possible for your tansan to go straight under the opponent's also.

3. Wedge Configuration
Well, we don't really call it wedge back then, because we didn't even know what wedges are at age six. Anyway, this configuration is also called bulldozer because of its scoop-like front.

How it's made:
The tansan is laid on a flat hard surface and then flattened with the force applied only to the 1/4 of the surface. This should cause half of the tansan to form a parabolic ramp and a normal back. If the normal half gets bent in any way, the tansan will become unstable and unusable.
Advantages:
A properly made tansan can send any type of tansan flying after it either gets hit or hits from the wedged side. Having this kind of advantage makes it one of the better offensive types in the list.
Disadvantages:
Being asymmetrical in shape, controlling the tansan is very hard, and many a flick will be wasted in aligning the wedged side to face the opponent.

4. Goliath, Overlapping Configuration
Dubbed as the goliath by my seven-year old friends, the goliath is basically multiple tansans pressed together to form a heavyweight monstrosity.

How it's made:
For double layered overlaps, two tansans are placed directly on top of each other, and then force is directly applied on top, just enough to make the top cap expand to the shape of the bottom cap. The edges of the cap can be hammered in to keep the overlap locked in place. For more layers, either the double layer is placed on top of a normal cap and then hammered down or three caps are placed directly on top of one another. Each layer added increases the chance of the build to be broken. The max layers I've seen is five, and it was very unstable already.
Advantages:
It's the normal configuration's big bad brother. Weighing twice or thrice, it's almost an unfair advantage. It's normal for a player using other configurations to refuse a match. Goliaths are often played against other goliaths, just to be fair.
Disadvantage:
Overlapping configurations are just makeshift caps placed on top of each other, so any impact on their weakpoints can make them shatter. Falling from a high place can have the same result as well.


-----------

To be fair, I know this game is rather old already, and it doesnt have the super powerups or proper hygiene standards of Tin Pin Slammer, still I think it's one of those great games that only sheer boredom could have created - and deserves as much preservation as possible.

Also, in case you lose in TWEWY, you can't use your "pin" to murder your opponent in a burst of rage. The tansan on the other hand, well, let's just say I forgot to mention how much of an advantage a flat configuration is during after-game brawls.

related articles:
http://redkinoko.blogspot.com/2006/09/real-games.html
http://redkinoko.blogspot.com/2007/08/traditional-game-guide-tekstex.html

Dig Dug, Damn It

Sunday, June 15, 2008

I was passing by Roxas Blvd earlier when I realized that the entrance of Vito Cruz is now closed to traffic due to yet another digging project. The Taft intersection of Vito Cruz also has already been closed for almost four months for the same reason, effectively closing the whole road down.
Now consider this. Vito Cruz is the exit point of a vast majority of cars from La Salle. Cars in La Salle are like trees in UP Los Baños and communists in UP Diliman - there's a fucking lot of them and they need a place to go to. Closing Vito Cruz down is like sealing the anus of a particularly fat man. It just can't lead to anything good.

Now I have to go as far as Buendia just to go to my office which is on the OTHER side of Taft Avenue because the previous detours has caused the closure of a u-turn slot I was previously using.

All this digging is getting a bit too far. I won't be surprised to know that Maynilad is now also absorbing our Department of Archeology (if we have one) because they're just clearly digging too much everywhere.

It's not too hard to imagine that one day, I'd be walking along a road and see an excavation project inside an excavation project.

To make things worse, after the digging is done, they don't really replace what they took out to do the digging. (i.e. cement and asphalt) instead, our friends at Maynilad went for the more ecofriendly material called "mud", which nicely turns into a disease-infested shoe magnet once rainy season starts.

You just get to think: We're going to run our water pipes under THAT?

And people still ask my why I always drink coke. *shrug*

HairCut Inspections

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Among the many "cute" policies we had back in highschool, one that frequently comes back to haunt me is that of the haircut inspection. By cute of course, I mean "weird shit we do on a regular basis without any practical reason".

The policy goes like this:

1. No bangs can go longer than from the tip of your scalp to your eyebrow.

Anything longer is tantamount to satan worship, apparently. Offenders caught will be choosing between having it cut off by the inspecting teacher with the dullest scissors he can find OR wearing colorful rubber bands that hold your hair up, screaming "fabulous" to anybody within a 10 meter radius. You get that, plus penalties in your deportment/conduct grade.

2. Students from first to third year are allowed to have haircuts that are at least 3x4, which means your sideburns will have to be shaved 3 inches from the tip of your ear and 4 inches at the back.

This can be a bitch, since most barbers outside muntinlupa jail dont spend too much time mastering the art of shaving hair off. More often than not they make small mistakes ranging from leaving behind clumps of hair to accidentally giving you 5 new ear piercings with the shaver.

3. Non-CAT officer senior students are required to don 4x5 measures, white side wall.

I think there's this going thought amongst teachers that graduating students will get an extra boost in intelligence during college entrance exams if they have less hair because there are less hair follicles to obstruct your brain. If you think #2 was pretty fucked up, this rule is even worse. White side wall means 4 inches of the side of your head from the tip of your ear will be cleanly shaven, along with 5 inches at the back of your head. Shaven clean. That means you'll be bald except for a nice patch of grass at the very top, making you appear one tee short of a golf handicap shot.

Any barber will tell you, this haircut is not for the weak of heart. Blades that are used to shave this amount of hair dull out and get throw away after the haircut. It's not uncommon to hear about fainting barbers during peak haircut season (i.e. 8 hours before haircut inspection day)

4. Skinheads are forbidden.

Then you'd think, well, since it's 4x5 already, might as well go all the way and do away with the goddamn remaining hair that looks like a bird's nest from 20 meters away. At least that way, the cut will be uniform and we could be mistaken for basketball stars and/or shaolin (depending on your puberty pimple configuration) , right?

Wrong.

Rule #4 forbids this, for reasons that still baffle me even until today. I asked my teacher about it once, and he answered "because certain criminal elements use this haircut, and we want do not our students to be identified with these nefarious personalities." I shit you not.

Hitler wore a fucking one-side too, why are we worshiping Rizal? It's like school admin has come to believe that when an outstanding citizen of society decides to go criminal one day, he first goes through the ritual of shaving his hair clean. Nice one! We better report this to the PNP so we can capture us a boatload of criminals! Not.

----

I'm not really against haircut inspections. Some cuts are still too "rad" for highschool, like punk mowhawk, beeswaxed rastafarian dreadlocks, and German. However, this fascistic approach to haircut inspections should really change. There is no master haircut and we don't need a final solution to eliminate other "impure" haircuts by implementing really "cute" rules that nobody can explain.

Whenever anybody asks where I got my randomness, I just say "highschool", because with policies like this, who needs rational thinking (or more hair)?

Something Positive

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

I had to take a half-day leave today to renew my driver's license after realizing it had a minor glitch. Apparently my picture was printed in magic ink that disappears after a couple of months - probably the same "indelible" ink we used last election (oops!). Trust me, proving that a license card is yours when the card's picture looks like it's been deliberately erased can be harder than acquitting Lolit Solis of libel charges after she accused Sam and Piolo gay (they're not. They're bicurious). Each time you get pulled over for a violation and pull out that faceless motherfucking card, you'd be staring at the MMDA dude saying "I know what you're thinking..."

Say goodbye to 100 pesos - or 'piso' in street lingo. Or if you prefer to believe in an honest society, uhhh I'm not sure what the real penalty is anymore. Anybody from the audience?

*cricket noise*

Either way, I'd rather not put up with that sort of hassle.

So I headed towards the renewal center located at Metro Point Pasay (that mall we all enter just to take a shortcut when switching between MRT and LRT-1). I made sure that this was my last task of the day since I figured, between going through 3 banks and 1 Government Office, the 3 banks will be a lot easier.

I arrived there around 3:34 PM. Given I was really really bored, I actually timed my transaction from the moment I approached Window 1 (As pointed out by the guy at the door whose purpose still eludes me, it's pronounced "weendowan", probably short for Window Wan-na waste a couple of hours with us?)

Handing over the license card of the invisible man, I told the guy there that I need to renew my license, while desperately trying to keep a straight face. I know you're going to wonder about this so I might as well tell you a sidestory. Last time I renewed my license two years ago, I didnt know there was a urine test. I took a leak just before going to their center and ended up staying at the urine sample collection room for about an hour until I was able to expel the necessary amount by trying to think of many scary things (like tax brackets). This time around I drank two cans of coke expecting a urine test.

Turns out there was no urine test since I'm just replacing. Wait.

#$&@*(&#$*(&@(*$&#

*pant pant* I'm done. Back to the story. Where were we? Ah, window one.

The guy got my card, took my receipt and told me to sit down. My old license card was tossed in a heap (and I'm not exaggerating this) of other "defective" cards with missing faces. It didn't really mater much because I was having a pleasant time. Pleasant, because:

a) the waiting room was near empty (everybody's probably stuck at the urine sample room)
b) the place is air-conditioned
c) The guy at window 3 was watching WWE on a widescreen television just behind the counters.

For the record, WWE rules, specially if you have nothing to do, and you know your tax is helping our empoverished brothers see Trish Stratus run around in a half-thong.

Two minutes pass and my picture was taken, along with my signature sample. My urine was unfortunately unwanted, despite my insistence (ARE YOU SURE THAT YOU DON'T NEED TO COLLECT MY PISS? DOUBLE SURE? DO YOU HAVE A REPUBLIC ACT TO BACK THAT UP?) It was weird though, for the first time I was the one offering to the government and they were the ones refusing. (Other times they rob you even before your salary lands in your hands)

I couldn't hold it in any longer and I don't think those guys would appreciate me making the room more "moist" than it already is so I took a leak in a nearby restroom. After I got back, my name was already being called. I got back to window 1 and the guy just tossed a new card out, with my face properly printed this time (Though it may not be as accurate, I'm not THAT fat)

"That's it?" I asked the dude. "Get out of here, chump, before I decide to dropkick you from turn buckle," he replies. Okay, he may not have said exactly those words, but you get the jist.

There are two good things about this visit.

One, it took me no less than 20 minutes to do the entire process. That's like warpspeed compared to other bureaucratic procedures like obtaining a certified true copy of your Birth Certificate, obtaining NBI clearance for the first time, and running for office.

Two, my wallet stayed inside my pants the whole time - and granted it was a government institution - that was one helluva surprise for me. I didn't pay anything. It was almost like my taxes are actually working for me (and WWE)!

I looked at my card and smiled. There just might be hope for our country still. I looked again.

Age: 24. Birth: Feb, 1983.

Did the math? Ah to hell with it.

Ikki Tousen : A Review

Monday, June 09, 2008

I often tell people, to make a good story, you have to know the audience that you need to tell it to. You need to know two things about the audience: what they need to see, and what they want to see. Ikki Tousen is a perfect example of how you can go so right will being so wrong, when you take what the audience wants to see and take it to the next level by just whoring the entire anime out.

The story is about a girl arriving in a chaotic Eastern Japan where rival school gangs are all vying for supremacy. The girl's name is Sonsaku Hakufu and she's supposed to hold the spirit of a warrior from China. By brute streetfighting (Don't think too much of it), she's supposed to unify the region under her rule.

Actually that's pretty much everything you need to know. In two words, Ikki Tousen is a visual blowjob. Targeting the teenage boy niche audience, it has everything a typical adrenaline-driven guy would find interesting in any anime show: School girls, panty shots, pointless fistfights, and subtle hints of sex, and then more panty shots. Yeah, panty shots cover up around 30% of the animation budget for this show.

There is very little of anything else, like, oh I dont know, CRITICAL PLOT SCENES. If there's nobody getting naked, showing panties or breasts, or fighting, or getting naked while fighting in their panties, it's just the opening and ending credits.

I am not exaggerating when I say I've seen porn with better plot than this show. The constant allusion to the Romance of 3 Kingdoms, an ancient Chinese novel is nice, but since they stuck to using the Japanese names of the Chinese characters, even if you've read the 120 chapter Chinese novel, you'd still get jack shit. For example, I had to wikipedia Sonsaku only to find out that she's actually Sun Ce while all the while I thought she has the spirit of Liu Bei (a guy who is a the opposite end of the Chinese novel).

After seeing the entire first season, it becomes apparent that the writers never cared about 3 Kingdoms. It's just there to give people excuses to fight. Like, in 3 Kingdoms, Sun Ce and Yu Ji fought. Consequently, in the anime, another girl who had Yu Ji's spirit fought the protagonist because it was written in the book. I can't begin to show you how borderline retarded that sounds, accepting a deathmatch with a complete stranger because you think you're fated to die by his/her hands.

Just like any porn flick at the same level as this anime, the clothes are a joke. They get either ripped off or removed at the first punch and people seem to pay very little attention whether or not they are wearing them at all. You'd think they're made of 100-year old tissue paper and the story is set in a very liberal Japan. That's like having a racially tolerant America - eitherway is farce.

Speaking of clothes, I'm not even sure why people in this show are in school uniforms. In the 260 minutes of this show, not once did anybody enter a classroom or even talk to a teacher. Come to think of it, there aren't even teachers in this show (outside the mandatory lecherous old sensei who isnt really a school teacher).

The list of bad things about this show goes on and on. But as I have said earlier, it can go so wrong and still be right for bringing all possible elements that please to the audience. This show is very much like porn. There's very little plot or any of other story elements that usually matters but that sad fact doesn't really affect the show because it was meant to be appreciated in a whole different light - with a dim light and lots of tissue paper.

If you're looking for deep, look somewhere else. Ikkitousen is about as brainless as it gets. Take it from somebody who still thinks there's still hope for the other jackshit shounen title that is Bleach.

3/10

That is all.

Cosplay Convention Commandments

Thursday, June 05, 2008

Still on the topic of cosplays, I've laid out 10 basic rules that you may want to consider when attending these conventions we're having one too many of nowadays. Theyre called Anime conventions and are basically extended Halloween events done year-round and with a mostly adult population. If people were able to follow all these commandments, we'd have better experiences when watching and participating in the cosplay activities relating to anime conventions (also it means I have lots of readers who are gullible toads obedient and sensible).

1. Thou shalt shower before entering a convention.
Most basic of basics. You're entering a hall designed for 1000 people, packed with 2000 people. There is no reason why you should skip washing yourself and applying the proper "jutsu" to protect yourself from evil "chakra". By "jutsu" I mean deodorant and by "chakra" I mean putok/body odor. See, there's a difference between anime and real people. When real people start sweating, they don't look cool and become powerful like their anime counterparts, they just start smelling funky.

2. Thou shalt not endorse real-life yaoi.
Okay ladies (and the ladies-at-heart), this commandment's for you. I know you love man-to-man action while watching your favorite anime or reading your favorite manga. That's cool with me too, as long as you don't force me to read/watch those things too. But like a ninja wearing bright orange to sneak into places, or trying to do the sand coffin on yourself and walking away alive, there are some things that don't translate well in real life. Can you imagine walking in your house one day to find your brother being frenched by your own father? Yeah, horrible visuals right? So quit it.

3. Thou shalt not peddle magic tricks.
This commandment maybe tad bit specific, but I figured I might as well include it. To be honest, cons are those few events that make it real easy to socialize with people. The fact that you're inside a convention already means you're an anime fan, with anime fans. Use that fact, act like the normal, social animal nature has intended you to be. In other words, stop shoving magical ring tricks down other people's throats just to catch attention. Ring tricks are easy and nobody gives a shit anyway. Use your tongue. In an oral kind of way. In an oral-verbal kind of way.

4. Thou shalt not use Costumes as licenses to turn into assholes.
I remember my friend, Kris telling me before. Cosplaying lets you be famous for one day by borrowing the fame from a fictional character. She's right, but that doesn't really mean you can do what most famous people do with their fame - as a license to act like complete asstards. You don't run around the convention hall (or worse, outside) behaving like a complete circlejerk. Keep your one-line shouts to yourself. If somebody looks like they don't want your company, back off. Unlike the anime character you're portraying, we can't press stop or switch channels or just plain get rid of you without getting charged with manslaughter.

5. Thou shalt not wear Naruto forehead protectors
This is more for you than the people around you. If you're not going to cosplay, don't even bother wearing those things. Dubbed as "pussy deflectors", those things have the amazing power of warding off all potential interests people "might" have in whatever's interesting about you. Same goes for shitty anime-related accessories that are a dime a dozen sold even in flea markets in the provinces. If ever those things have any benefit for me, it'd that I'd know who not to associate with, and whose kids I should never let my future kids play with.

6. Thou shalt not try to engage underaged women into adult conversations (et al)
Cosplay has this way of bringing out all sorts of pedophiles (people who dream of having sex with underaged girls) and lolicons (pedophiles who don't want to be called pedophiles) out of the woodwork, because underaged girls are able to dress in clothing they're not supposed to dress in until they're much older, or are much more in need of money, whichever comes first. These girls just love the anime theyre imitating in an honest kind of way so we just can't say they shouldn't. So now we turn to the audience. To you. You should not patronize that sexy aspect. Not now. Not ever (or at least until they turn 18) Here's a thought. "Just because they dress up like skanky sluts doesn't mean they really are." They may look like it, talk like it, and act like it, but when shit hits the fan - they're still underaged and you're still going to jail for statutory rape.

7. Thou shalt thank people for pictures taken, for being either subject or photographer.
As with anything that entails costumes and/or controversies, photo ops are to be expected. If you think about it, there are not many instances outside anime conventions that you'd take a picture of a complete stranger without being called a freaky stalker. There aren't many instances outside cons either that you'd let a complete stranger take a picture of you in revealing clothing and be happy about it. So given that cosplay photo-ops are special situations, you best be polite about it. Before shooting pics, ask for permission. If you have a suggestion for a pose or another friend who wants to pose with the underboobs girl, ask politely, as in, "May my particularly horny friend pose beside you whislt holding your revealed C-cups? Pretty please?" Don't forget to thank her afterwards, or if in case she gets pissed off instead, have an escape plan.

8. Know what's being cosplayed before acting like you do, or if you don't, ask.
Cosplayers have this weird thing for being misidentified. Call a guy in an obscure anime cosplay any name from Naruto (repeatedly) and he'll go ballistic. To prevent awkward situations where he tries to jutsu you (i.e. kill) with fancy hand gestures that look like air masturbation (i.e. air guitar, except he's pretending to play with his penis instead), make sure you're correct in identifying the character, or if you're wrong, politely accept the fact that you're not yet truly deep into the anime-crazy coven and ask the cosplayer about the character he/she's cosplaying. I'm sure he/she'll get an erection/wetness just telling you about it. Remember, knowing is half the battle. The other half is uhh, not overdoing it and turning into an animetard (google the net for symptoms)

9. Thou shalt be courteous towards cosplayers
Don't play with their props only to break them. Don't kiss cosplayers without permission (especially if youre ugly). You can kiss but only if the cosplayer is me and you're really hot (with witnesses to prove your hotness) Don't touch boobs. Don't pinch asses. Don't grab manpackages. Think of cosplayers as regular people you come across the mall. Weird, eccentric, sweaty, regular people who love anime a bit too much. They may not look like it but they're still people that should be respected, people who can get you beaten up or jailed or both.

10. Thou shalt not steal
Cosplay events give us that chance to know what it's like to live in a real anime world, even if just for a few moments. But that feeling is just for imagining. If in case you get the urge to break the law the same way anime characters do and think you can get away with it, think again.


Remember kids, when you steal shit in real life, it's no longer just a plot point in the story - it's a friggin criminal offense!

Party Chart In Cigarette Brands

Monday, June 02, 2008

This is the guy scale of how hot a party is, in cigarette brand terms, from suckiest to most awesome. Picture below somewhat related.


Hope - Because there's nothing else to look forward to.

Pure Menthol - Puro men, tol.

Marlboro (Country) - Population consists of only two things: Men and Horses

Camel - Only good for the humps.

Lucky Strike - You get luckies, then you get strikes.

Mild 7 - On a scale of one to ten...

Winston - Wins, tons.
 

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