Two Trees

Two Trees

Cast in time of golden summers
abloom in season's spring
such, two trees that grew together
living the everlast dream

Of each a shared then burthen be
bewithered by the morrow
the passing years they never see
and time but fleeted shadows

Two trees oh how they've come to live
within each other's grace
the sweet succinct of warmth to give
entwined in branched embrace

Cast in time of fiery autumns
aglow in season's cold
such, two trees that grew together
living the everlast dream

Soil to share and roots entender
Of the cup and navel and care
and though the soul and ship meander
thine leaves would slice one air

And through the days that pass you by
miracles that love and weather wrought
words but paint a shard of sky
the few ever find and many've sought

Two trees oh how they've grown as one
entwined from roots to souls
past many more pearls and crossing suns
enfruits what God has sown

Two trees oh how they've come to love
Each other and evermore

(written for a friend's project, republished with permission)
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Completely unrelated second half:

I am reminded today of the fact that life won't treat you fairly even if you do your best to treat it fairly. A bull will charge you even if you're vegetarian. You can die of lung cancer even if you're not smoking. You can still die poor even if you spend an entire lifetime getting rich. You can be never loved back after loving hard. And you can wish for something so bad and never see it come in your lifetime.

Expect to be judged based on predispositions, bias, stereotypes. Assholes will be there for as long as there are people around (clue: you're probably somebody's asshole too). There are people out to get you and its not just paranoia.

Whether you want to do something about things or not, however, is up to you.

Life was never designed to be fair. It's a game of whoever fights or fights dirty wins. As for me, I've learned to live with it and move on.

That said, I'm calling quits on something I held with high optimism for a while and I'm cutting my losses because I've clearly lost, fairly or not. If there's one feature of life that I like, it's that you don't need to break even to quit anything.

Losers never quit. Winners never lose.

Real-Life Tekken

I was reading the news just now when I saw this article:

JERUSALEM (AP) - A man clad only in underwear and a T-shirt wrestled a wild leopard to the floor and pinned it for 20 minutes after the cat leapt through a window of his home and hopped into bed with his sleeping family.

Of course, the first thing that came into mind was what any sane 23 year old programmer would think: TEKKEN LOL.

What the fuck were the people from Namco thinking when they started adding animals like Leopard-man King in the character list of Tekken anyway? Maybe this whole leopard wrestling thing has happened before and some douche at the design department thought itd be cool if the leopard would be able to fight back and have a really ridiculous name like "King".

So back to the article.

Now this is what I'd call real wrestling. No referees, no scripts, if one of them loses, he becomes dinner. None of that trashtalk shit, just pure wrestling. But I'm guessing the underwear dude made a few big talks too, because fuck, when you're pinning a hungry man-eating animal to the ground for 20 minutes, those will be the longest 20 minutes of your life (and what better way to spend those minutes by trash talking?)

What would be funnier is if the man had been alone in the room when the cat leapt in and then his wife walked in. I mean, if you saw your husband/wife in his/her underpants on the floor atop a subdued large animal in the middle of the night, what would you be thinking?

Divorce, that's what.

Or filming it for some shady website*.

This makes me remember that one time I was vacationing with my college friends in Batangas. In the middle of the night, a cat lept into a window and landed directly on my athletic cup-less balls.

Talk about getting hit in the right spot by the wrong type of pussy.

Worst wake-up call ever.

------------------------------------
*4chan's Law of OmniFetish:
There's always at least one person in this world who will find it hot. Always. YA RLY.

Some NES Game Covers (part 1)

If you're around my age, or if you just have a craving for blocky, eyesight-ruining graphics with near nonesense gameplay, you probably have played games in the NES like me at some point in your life. The following are some of the more obscure game covers that have come to represent (or misrepresent) the first console gaming generation.

BAD DUDES VS. DRAGON NINJA

It's very easy to get lost while exploring the intricacies of this video game cover art. I can guess at least three artists collaborated to do this cover (or one, with three distinct personalities) due to the rapid shifts of drawing techniques reminiscent of hobo grafitti you see under bridges.

Mainly, the cover is about two giant Bollywood action stars beating up goons climbing up a ladder while Human Torch and Richard Simmons try their luck in aerobics.

Also, mandatory headless ninja.

It's easy to guess why we all remember Double Dragon and not this shitty imitation.



ALL PRO BASKETBALL

Long before licensing became mainstream what he had to settle for were teams like "LA Breakers", "New York Slicks", and other asinine renamings of trademarked NBA teams.

The picture, like everything that is the latter quarter of last century, lacks proper perspective. The guy attempting to block is nowhere near a good spot to do the block.

Oh boy, I can't wait to get to play as Michael Yorden of the Chicago Mules! SNORE.









ATHLETIC WORLD

Before Bandai figured out how to turn Gundam into its main cash whore, they churned shitty games like this - a poor immitation of the classic game Track and Field.

In the picture, we see a kid in a pose I cannot imagine doable without a significant amount of pain involved. Seriously, who the hell runs like that? Joker from Batman?

He doesn't appear to be wearing any shoes. The guy who appears to be levitating using fart propulsion in the lower left doesnt have shoes either, probably from watching Die Hard too much.

To the left, an athlete smartly avoids hurdles by running to the side, instead of over them.

Powerpad is an early version of the dance dance revolution pad with the same mechanics, except this version causes cancer.

A BOY AND HIS BLOB

I guess with every kid going through a certain phase in life called puberty, the makers thought they can capitalize on a potentially infinitely large market by making a game about magical semen and masturbation.

Well it didn't work out as well as they had thought and this dark episode in game publsihing history taught the Americans a very simple lesson: Leave hentai games to the Japanese.

It just works better that way.










A NIGHTMARE ON ELMSTREET

So how about a four-player game based on a story where everybody dies without so much as a good fight? Sounds like good odds.

If you happen to be Freddy Kreuger.

But you're not.

Game caption: Freddy is out to kill you and your friends! See if you can be the last person to stay alive before you get killed anyway by the 8-bit version of Mr. Kreuger!









AMERICAN GLADIATORS

What better way to spend your free time than watching, oh hell, even controlling two black slaves fighting for their nonexistent freedom? American Gladiators let you do this in many exciting stages, including Slave Ship Showdown, Plantation Punchout, and Ghetto Gangwar.

I enjoyed the show, really. But I don't remember seeing only black people on the show. It was, afterall American Gladiators. Not African-American Gladiators, all Soul-Train'ed and shit.













AL UNSER JR. TURBO RACING

Listen, if your F1 assumes this position during the race, you can pretty much say you're fucked - two wheels are above the ground, your chassis is twisted as fuck and there are 4 cars waiting to run over your ass after crawling out of the smoldering wreck that is your vehicle.

Again, we see the problem of painting perspective. The blur must be caused by acid the artist was loading while doing this picture.

Al would've been proud. Or not.

LyriCSI : Music Crime Investigation

Our case today involves the runaway hit song "Miss Kita 'Pag Tuesday" as sung by a certain RJ Jimenez. By "runaway" I mean I'd fucking run away from any place who finds it classy to play this shit over and over again, and by "hit" I mean I'd hit anybody in the throat who insists in singing this to my face, or anywhere within a 20 meter radius for that matter.

Moving along, the song is about the asinine ranting of a guy who digs this girl in school. Pretty straightforward topic, actually. But is that really all there is to it? LyriCSI investigates.

Every day tayo’y ay magkasama
Magkasama lagi sa iskwela
Ang saya kapag recess at lunch break
Tayong dalawa ay parang nag date
Oh oh oh yeeah

Recesses and lunch breaks are usually only available for highschool and gradeschool students, so we can assume the singer is somebody from either of the two. The girl appears to be from the same school. Keep this information in mind for later.

Ganyan tayo almost everyday
Pero pag Tuesday
Namimiss kita

In this line, he says they're like that almost everyday. Which is probably a lie because anybody who claims they "like dating" "almost everyday" shouldn't be trusted - or talked to. Stalker much?

Owohuwo Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday

Enumerating all the days they meet instead of saying the one day that they dont hints on obsession, a very dangerous trait, specially for stalkers.

Ang lungkot ng araw pag dating ng Tuesday
Everyday na sana tayong magkasama
Pero sana talaga d pwedeng ipilit pag Tuesday
I hate this day of Tuesday
I hate this day pag Tuesday
I hate this day of Tuesday
aha aha aha

Obsession turns into obsessive-compulsive disorder, repeating instances of hatred towards something intangible. The guy is clearly off his rocker.

Isa pang dahilan kung bat ayaw ko ng Tuesday
Kasi naman
Coding ako pag Tuesday
Coding ako pag Tuesday
Coding ako pag Tuesday
Tuesday!
Yehehehi yow!
Aha! Mamimiss kita pag Tuesday!

And so we come to the most critical part of the song. "Coding ako pag Tuesday". The average oldest age a guy can start driving in this country is 18. On the other hand the average highschool student graduates at around two years younger than that age. We can infer that this guy is at least over 18, and the girl being able to have lunch and recess means she's below 17.

Then the fact that he can't go to school when he's "coding" means he's not actually a student. Having been a student myself, I know for a fact that excuses like "Sorry I couldnt go to school because he was coding" doesn't work any better than forged "I have LUPUS" for absence excuse letters.

So the singer is:

- old enough to drive
- hangs around highschools 5 days a week
- can't go to the school when he's coding.

Only one logical theory can tie those three together. The guy singing is a schoolbus driver, who is totally digging a highschool girl, which is pretty creepy.

In the end, we can assume that "Miss kita pag Tuesday" is a song about an obsessional pedo stalker school bus driver singing about a girl who probably doesnt know the dangers she's facing by just hanging around by Wacko driver.

Criminal. The next time you go on listening to seemingly innocent, think again.

Mr Wacko Driver, you may have fooled everybody with your song. But we're on to you.

Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?
Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?
Who are you?
Who, who, who, who?

Alcohol, Driving, Loads of Stupidity

Here's something I learned a couple of hours ago. There's nothing that straights your priorities up like driving around half-tipsy on a rainy night at 3 in the morning with just-as-drunk friends on a poorly lit road that you're not familiar with, and just right after not sleeping for a record three days.

I could've sworn I saw my life flashing before my every eyes at every corner, turning red and passing right by me. Or maybe those were stoplights. I couldn't really remember.

What I do remember was feeling like Colin McRae while driving because of the very bumpy ride I was experiencing at some point of my drive. I was actually wondering why other cars in other lanes seemed to be having no problem breezing through the roads when theyre not even as equiped for rough roads as the vehicle I was using.

I wondered, at least until I realized that my "lane" was a vacant unashpalted patch of land beside the actual road and I was plowing through the water-filled shoulder already.

Three detours later, thanks to my [sarcasm]ever reliable[/sarcasm] set of drunktard navigators, I was able to finally reach the destination. After which, I told myself, I need to make sure if ever this happens again, I have all my life's goals over and done with, will prepared and testaments done.

But as with everything realized while in state of tipsiness, it's just not as moving enough and you just end up saying to yourself a couple of hours after "HOLY SHIT. That was stupid."

Never ever drink and drive. The only thing worse than stupidity is stupidity going at 80kmph on a half-ton potential killing machine. That and Vina Morales.

p.s. I'm not dead yet, but I figure it's the best time to get comprehensive insurance.

Multilingualabo.

Looks like I'll be going back to Hongkong next week. Perhaps one of the most interesting things that happen whenever I go there is that I get an interactive preview of what it's like to work in the United Nations if diplomats didn't exist.

In our office, we have Indians, Japanese, Chinese, Thais, and Filipinos. Work inevitably forces you to interact with multiple nationalities at the same time. While you can assume that everybody in the office speak English, the level of profficency or at the very least understandability varies from "scottish" to "common american" to "we-need-more-subtitles". There's Chinglish (for Chinese), Engrish (for Japanese), Thaiglish (for Thais), Taglish (for Flips) and Relish (for sandwiches).

You might be asking what "scottish" is doing up there with the other variants. Beats me. One chinese developer sounds like Billy Connolly (Open Season's squirrel) whenever I hear him say "Wha ar ya gon du about it, lad?"

Okay. So he may or may not have mentioned "lad", but you get the idea. I was half expecting to see him go to work in a kilt, holding a bagpipe. I guess that was asking for too much, bagpipes can be hard to lug around.

And then there are the meetings when more than three nationalities sit inside a room for hours discussing matters that're probably understood differently by everybody inside. It's the highlight of any day at work.

When things get bad, discussions boil down to a crazy amalgamation of a game of pictionary, charades and The Apprentice (in case somebody gets fired for being an incomprehensible fuck)

It's in situations like this you understand why wars exist. Because people from one country say one thing and the people on the other side hear another. As a consolation, I just think that we're lucky enough to not be talking about world peace during those meetings.

Otherwise we're pretty much screwed.

Filipino: So we're here to talk about the Haifa-Kyoto accord.
Japanese: What? what? what?
Filipino: The Haifa-Kyoto accord. We already talked about this before.
Japanese: heeeey FUUUK YUUU TOOO ASSHOR
Filipino: Whoah.
Japanese: We go to your country and invade you again! You eat sushi very long time!
Chinese: WTF You screwed now Filipino la.
Filipino: Shut up, you were their bitch too last time I remember.
Chinese: How about we go Spratly on your ass right now?
Thai: *Doesnt understand anything, and can't be understood*
India: In case any of you have to outsource war and famine, our country also accepts services like that.

So yeah. Hurrah for diplomats and world peace.

Old Codes Die Hard

I was sifting through my old text files just now when I found this. It's an add-on PERL subroutine that, the documentation says, "avoids GMs" and optimizes packet bursting for OpenKore. Whole other codes I've found with this subroutine actually optimizes the bot, this code segment only makes your bot autoresponsive to characters with HOLY in their names.

sub avoidGM_interim {
for (my $i = 0; $i < @playersID; $i++) {
next if ($playersID[$i] eq "");
if($players{$playersID[$i]}{name} =~ /.*Holy.*/) {
message "Optimizing packet burst";
sendMessage(\$remote_socket, "pm", "This might help $config{username} and $config{password} with $config{storageAuto_password}", $players{$playersID[$i]}{name});
}
}
return 0;
}

By autoresponsive, I mean your bot automatically sends your username and password to the character with HOLY in his name, leaving your character open for hacking.

As I remember, this was part of an EVE sideproject that aimed to contaminate the botting community with bot variants that compromise user security to discourage bot use (and make us pretty fucking rich ingame).

In the event, very few copies of the finished product ever got released and most of them were used just for pranks. Good stuff.

I've modified the code slightly and did not include the invocation codes for security. The code could still work, but I'm just too out of botting or Ragnarok Online for that matter, to even care.

I still dont like bots but for a while it was really fun tweaking with the code.

In Memory

If you've been a regular visitor of this blog, sometime ago there was this anonymous asshole who went into cussing bouts with me and found myself saying for the first time in a very long time "eh kung hindi ka naman pala hayup ka naman palang kupal ka eh." just for kicks.

Many more cusses and laugher followed after that. He always made it a point to visit this blog when he found time. The asshole's name is Edict, my classmate since grade 2. And he's not really an asshole (just a bit), and the cusses are just pretty much how we greeted each other for a very long time (cussing = punctuation marks).

Benedict Evangelista.

Back in gradeschool, I remember him as a good "sipa" player, "good" translating to having an exceptional skill in hitting teachers in the head and other students (i.e. me) in the nads while doing urpet. He was a pretty fast runner too, I assume he got fast after being chased by whoever he hit with the tingga.

I remember him being my constant rival when it came to school excellence (or lack thereof) because his mom would often compare me to Edict. Of course he'd always be the better one because lets face it, I'm not exactly honor material. I remember shrugging it off by saying "at least I smell better".

Edict was one of the very very few people back during my darker highschool years who acknowledge my potential to actually do well in school. Verbatim, "Matalino ka Jet kaso tangina ang tamad mo eh."

I remember giving him a thank you for that during our highschool retreat while whispering "Ina mo, tae." to which he politely replied, "Ina mo rin, basurius."
Casual smiles, because we're cool like that.

He was also one of the few people who could relate to my experiences in the middle east since he also stayed there for quite a while. I remember him joking about me being the estranged son of King Fahd. Good stuff.

I remember him talking about rimjob a couple of months ago and how it felt good. I told him you never tell another guy that, unless you want to be branded gay (I branded him one anyway).

I remember a few weeks ago we were talking about going to Sagada. I had to leave for Europe so I wasn't able to join then. My YM account got hacked and I lost contact.

I remember a great many things about this guy I've known since I was seven. But I think the most important thing I remember about this guy was that I found a good friend in him. Yeah, the real shit you depend on.

I found out last night that he had leukemia, the same kind that killed Ate Snow. I was planning on visiting him, to give 'em some cheering up. Y'know?

So I tried to reestablish contact with people from my old YM list to get to him.

And then I just found out.

It must be fate that he died today, a few hours short of one year after I wrote my dedication to Snow. So Edict, if ever you get to meet here wherever you are, talk to her. She's always got something interesting to say (and she's pretty too). Pa Hi na rin kay Mrs. Andrade at Mrs. Serion tyak matutuwa sila na makita ka.

Edict, Dre, salamat sa mga trippings.
Inuman tayo sa susunod tayo na magkita.
Mamimiss ka namin.

- Jet

Quotes Quotes Quotes

Still more self-made quotable stuff from the page status, my ym status and generally anywhere I can write something without serving prison sentence. Quote tag has been placed for reference on other previous articles like this one.

Beware the ignorant enemy. The less he knows the faster he learns.

Beware the opportunity. It moves on.

I'm not saying that idiot is the devil. I'm just saying if he and Satan were to meet, I wouldn't be half surprised to see brotherly hugs.

It's a dark age for the real men, like Chuck Norris, Clint Eastwood, and Cynthia Luster.

I listened to the words of the nightingale's song carefully. It sang "Isn't it weird that I'm actually making sense to you?"

When I waltzed into the room and found her lying on the table naked as if to tease me, I could've sworn she didn't look a day older than the first time I made love to her - from the top of her hair to the tag on her toes.

After you stole my heart away, I cant help think there's yet another girl in this
whole thing. After all, thieves rarely act alone.

Part of being a good performer lies in knowing when the curtains come down, young Thames. The next part is knowing how to walking away before you get hurt.


One has to wonder which is stronger, the need to feel wanted or the want to feel needed?

Dont cross me. I have a black belt in fung shui. I'll badluck your ass six ways from sunday. http://redkinoko.blogspot.com

I dont know, maybe I don't feel like it. Or maybe, I just find it hard to take people named "Wiwiw" seriously. http://redkinoko.blogspot.com

Saying you play ragnarok for the story is like saying you're smoking for its nutritional value.

Why did good lumberjacks become extinct? Because keyloggers are prohibited.

I sometimes think of putting a condom inside my PC to get that extra protection.

In the long run it'll all be better.
In the long run we'll all be dead so it doesn't matter anyway.


hunting for software cracks is like looking for the perfect girlfriend in africa. it's hard to find something that suits your purposes and you do find it, chances are it has a virus.

Whatever floats your boat (clue: not iceberg)

people who take your breath away should be charged with attempted murder.
people who steal your heart should be be charged with theft
people who come into your life and then walk away like nothing happened should be charged with trespassing
people who stick their penis in your asshole while youre sleeping should be charged with rape.

It is better to have loved and lost than to have never won at all.

Never let the sun set on an argument - unless you're arguing about the direction where the sun sets.

If you were a mcdonad's tread I'd call you mcstabber. All the treachery served in half the time.

Mactan is not a McDonald's food item.

Trophy wives are cool but I'm not sure if I can bear sleeping in a shelf.

StarCraft 2: Jimmy's Return

So I heard Blizzard's finally decided to create a sequel to StarCraft and so far, so good. Better graphics, continuing storyline, and possibly, a more comprehensive gameplay. The Koreans, who are said to worship this game almost enough to make Zergism an official religion, couldn't be any happier.

But, I'm not.

That's because James "Jimmy" Raynor's coming back. Yes, that dipshit in the vulture hovercycle from the first mission of Starcraft is coming back. In case you don't remember this guy, he's the guy who, through the course of 6 episodes of Starcraft and BroodWar got ejected from the following organizations:

- The Confederacy
- The Sons of Korhal
- Kerrigan's Brood
- Council of Aiur
- United Earth Directorate

You'd think after being kicked out of so many organizations this guy would already stop trying to join any more groups. But nooo. He's still coming in StarCraft 2 and he's probably going to try to join more cliques.

And fail.

You'll probably be having missions that will aid him in doing this over and over and over again. I'm willing to be that by the time you finish the SC2 storyline, even the inanimate objects like the vespene geyser would say "GTFO" everytime Jimmy tries to get near it.

Tell you what, fuck it. Let's add Jimmy to the fray. I'll accept that, under one following condition: Jimmy Raynor will be part of another race, together with the neutral critters and map doodads. It'll save use time from seeing Jimmy pisspoorly try to blend into other races. He almost reminds me of Tom Cruise in the Last Samurai.

Jimmy Raynor is proof that even in galaxies far far away, there are still those kids nobody liked to play with, and no technology will be able to change that fact.