Wii See U

My step-son got a Wii U for Christmas, so I had to spend the next two hours setting it up for him. Plugging it all in was a fairly simple process. I was surprised to find that the tablet section of the console has it’s own power cord. To date, only one person, a toddler, has tripped over it. I was also expecting to be able to pick up the tablet and go into other rooms with it. I think I got into the hall before it started complaining that it couldn’t connect with the Wii U.

During the set-up, it asked me to provide an e-mail and confirm it about three times, asking me to repeat my e-mail twice each time. This confused me, as the Wii U account is locked in to the console and not your e-mail at this time. I also tried to import a pair of Wii codes I never used but got for free from Club Nintendo, and the system told me they were no in-use at the moment. That confused me more. Does that mean I’ll be able to use them in the future, or not at all? Plus, I had to enter my credit card information and get debited 50 cents, which was then refunded, even though I don’t want to use my credit card to make purchases in their online store. I have two kids wailing away at buttons with no conception of what they do, so it’s pretty easy for me to get charged for products at random on the 360, depending on how up-to-date my points and credit information are.

The overall immediate impression is that the Wii U is a tablet you can play on your TV, if you so choose. You have to play in front of the TV no matter what, so you’re still chained that way. Watching my stepson play the Wii U version of Super Mario, I saw him play exclusively while looking at the tablet, complaining it was too difficult to watch the TV screen, although the same image was being broadcast simultaneously. Since there was only the tablet controller in the box, I had to sit and watch him play the big screen, unable to play. I tried explaining to several people that up to four people could play simultaneously, but of course you need to have more controllers. Not the tablet controller, either, you need the old nunchucks. So you can’t just take your tablet controller and use it at your friend’s house, or get more tablets. This means, that at any point, only one person will have the “good” controller, causing wars to needlessly erupt.

The main-page on the TV screen for your menu is a snapshot of the top games and apps being used online, with drawings and comments. It’s basically like a mini-facebook if you had no filters or choice in “friending” people. You could have no interest, or have, any of the games being shown, but it’s still there. The screen itself is pointless and non-functioning unless you switch it to your tablet.

I still “get” the Wii U. The games still play like a mix of regular console games and DS games. It’s obvious why they made it the way they did: to discourage illegal downloads. All the motion controllers and touch screens are just their way of ensuring you can’t download their games and play them on a computer. People still go to ridiculous lengths to counterfeit their games, but they usually involve buying extra accessories on the black market. It’s still a better method at fighting piracy than DRM and “always on,” management like EA or Ubisoft.

Skyrim: Reborn

In a rare occurrence, a glitch in Skyrim resolved itself. I’m not certain if it was the result of an update, but while trying to clear out my miscellaneous quests I tried once more to hand in, “The Helm of Winterhold.” Previously this had been hampered by the Eternal Mourning glitch, and made impossible by the fact I had chosen to support the Empire in the war and had the jarl issuing the quest disposed. The location on the map led me to the former Jarl Korir on several occasions, but he was found to be wandering aimlessly South of Windhelm. He refused to acknowledge the quest before, making it impossible to finish. Then, on this occasion, I was able to finish it properly, even though he was out by a road at night, where he had no right to be. I immediately swiped the helmet back from him when he wasn’t looking. I’d been holding onto it for over a hundred hours, unable to remove it from my inventory, and I’d grown quite attached to it. I’d even upgraded it. I decided to give it to Lydia to wear, but in the meantime, I found I was able to continue past the Eternal Mourning glitch, now that the issue of the helmet had been resolved.

Upon entering Jorrvaskr I was immediately greeted by a pop-up dialogue telling me about the next branch of the quest. My companion immediately left me and was replaced by Vilkas and I went off to retrieve the last piece of the axe. Everything proceeded as normally from there, with one exception: I wasn’t a werewolf. I’d switched to vampire and back again a dozen times, but I was no longer werewolf like the rest of the Circle. Thus, when I finished my quest, I didn’t have to contend with offering up a head to the flames to free myself from the curse.

This was a huge boon, as previously my character had been stuck, unable to finish the questline. I had to start a whole new character and play through just to get the achievement. Months and months had passed and I’d given up any and all hope. If it wasn’t for Dawnguard, I’d still be a werewolf as well.

Top Ten Ways to Write a Top Ten List

With the New Year fast approaching, the internet is being littered with 2012 Top Ten Lists. These lists proclaim to recap the year’s events in a numeric format, because readers are considered too lazy to read complete paragraphs. By this point all blogs that still contain text instead of pictures of cats are 99% likely to be lists. You may be wondering at home, or at work, “Hey, how do I make a Top 10 blog?”
Here you go:
10. Bullshit: Make sure your list is complete bullshit. There should be no effort whatsoever to research anything you’re writing about, to go into any depth, or to get a second opinion. It should be about a topic you have little to no experience with, aside from a passing interest. Originality doesn’t count, so just copy someone else’s idea. Something in the news? Make it into a list. Really, just be random. Cats.
9. The Questionable Candidate: Shoehorn something into your list that shouldn’t belong. Remember, you’re trying to flesh out an assignment. Cats.
8. Hate:Your list should be inflammatory as possible. Like I said, research doesn’t matter. Infuriate the reader with your own ignorance. That’s real beauty of a Top Ten List. Every reader upon seeing the title will create their own rankings in their mind and compare it to yours. Your  list, therefore, should be as far off the mark as possible. This creates a flame war in the comments section. In interwebs, there is no bad publicity, only clicked links and web traffic. Cats.
7. Boobs. Images of boobs. Preferably, celebrity boobs. I can’t stress that enough. Any mention of celebrities or boobs will auto-generate traffic for your site. Do boobs not factor into your list? What kind of pussy list are you writing? Delete that shit and start over. Also: Cats.
14. Random: To be, “original,” pick a random number for your list. Obviously, you won’t always have ten exact choices for every list. You can shrink it down and stretch it out as needed. Also, I’m pretty sure David Letterman will sue your ass over copyright infringement if you do a Top Ten list. It’s his only shtick besides having wacky eyebrows and banging his employees. Still, no matter what size your list is, always include something that doesn’t belong .Cats.
17: Photos: Include random photos with captions the read like Stan Lee were writing for Maxim. ‘Nuff said! Besides, people hate reading. You’re better off with just a re-posted picture you stole off of Google.

 
5: ???: There is no number 5. Seriously, halfway through whatever your writing just give up and go on a tangent. Put two topics into one listing. Go off topic. I don’t care. Cats.
4: Failure: A failed attempt at humour. Nobody cares about 4th place. No one. There’s no medal for 4th place because they can’t find a metal cheap enough to reward your lack of accomplishment. Anything can be 4th. 10th is always for the least-likeable choice. 4th is for something people recognize for participating and still failing.
3: The Real #1: You’re getting pretty close to #1, so you have to think pretty hard about what you want here. You should include something controversial in this slot so people will be all like, WTF? Why wasn’t this #1? Include an explanation as to your decision that sounds like complete bullshit because it is. Remember: this isn’t an official ranking, it’s just bullshit. Piss people off.
2: Runner-Up: People recognize #2 instantly. Out of everything in the list, #2 is the closest to what the person would expect in the actual ranking. It almost makes up for your complete lack of accuracy for the rest of the post.
1. Toss-up: #1 is either the most obvious choice, or a joke choice. People will either nod their heads or agreement, or recoil from a slap in the face. Remember, #1 is there by your choice. This is your time to tell the reader that they wasted three minutes of their lives with your poor choices.

Skyrim: Dragon. It’s a Crash, Crash, Crash

I finished off the main bits of the Skyrim: Dragonborn expansion. By far, the biggest glitch comes during the last battle with Miirak. If you hit him too hard, he’ll straight-up become invincible and untouchable, and neither will he attack you. You spend the entire time circling each other, not able to interact. I tried using a variety of Shouts to try and fuck him out of his invincibility spell, but nothing worked besides resetting. Reading up online, a lot of other people seem to be having the same problem.

I’ve hard-locked my 360 a few times while playing. Now that I’m able to use Dead Thrall and summon two undead to my side, I’m melting the game. I don’t even know what to do with half these dead bodies. I leave them in my houses most of the time. Villagers become disturbed when you show up with a zombie on their doorstep, but leaving a dead body in the street doesn’t affect them much. I tossed one named NPC called Soren down a fiery pit as a sacrifice for one quest. I didn’t feel too bad as he was dead when I found him. There was a non-quest related boss fight with Horker named Lord Tusk related to his dead-ass. It seemed better than leaving his body and a wave-swept rocks. At first I thought I was suppose to sacrifice one of my companions, or the quest giver, but they wouldn’t stand on the grate. I think the key is having to Shout a dead Drugur onto the plate, but my Dead Thrall worked fine.

Strangely, after killing her father, Freda was fine with following me around again, as long as I killed Miirak, who wasn’t really responsible. I basically teamed up with her dad’s killer, and she knows it. She’s freaky.

Skyrim: Dragonborn Glitches Again

After resolving a quest where I had to find a blacksmithing formula for Delvin’s brother, which happened to be on a dead body inside a goblin-filled cave, I was given a key to his basement, which on the outset does not seem like a good reward. That’s like telling someone, “Good job! Now go down into my cellar so I can rape you… erh… ice cream!” There was some loot, of course, and a note saying he basically killed Sapphire's family. Sapphire has always been my favourite NPC in the Thieves Guild, mainly because she starts out seeming to be this brutal thug who will murder over money, but it turns out you can reason with her and she’s approachable and friendly, and she has a legitimate troubled past she’s trying to come back from. When you ask her the story behind her name, she promises to tell you some day, but never does. In her pocket, though, are two sapphires.

When I went inside Delvin’s brother’s house, however, the walls were missing. In there place was a blank bluey-green colour. I didn’t try to pass through them, as I was worried I would glitch out and freeze the game. I’ve only hard-frozen once so far in Dragonborn after exiting a tower.

The black-elf wizard friend of yours in the game has a servant you’re suppose to go hunting for. She turns up dead, and naked, for some reason, probably at the hands of the ash spawn. When I went back a second time to see if I could rez her as my Dead Thrall (I didn’t have enough magic), I found a pile of ash ash hoppers and ash spawn ash piles around her, like something bazonkers had happened and she had magically come back to life to have an epic battle before falling dead back in the same spot.

The game seems to have multiple open-ended points in a lot of the quests. For instance, there’s one where you can clear out a mead hall then help the leader get her cred back. Or you can tell everyone she’s a liar. Then there’s the leader of the Skrall. Your actions seemingly will result in his death, but there’s a feel as though if you do something different he’ll pull through. Also, his Daughter Freda is your potential follower up until the last leg of the quest before his death takes place. Then she’ll return to the village. I had to hire some whiny bug-armour guy in the tavern to take her place. I was also hoping for more companion choices. Freda, by far was the leader next to Serena and the perenial favourite, Lydia. I’m hoping by finishing the next quest I can bring her back into the fold, but I’m assuming getting her dad killed and leaving the village defenceless is not a plus in her book. Logically, she probably doesn’t want anything else to do with me.

The rest of the island seems very civil towards me. That’s the one thing that was weird about the rest of the game. I straight-up killed Aludin and saved everyone’s asses, and I’m pretty much a nobody, except for the few people who outright hate me for my role in the war. I also never hear any mention of my good deeds. Everyone thanks me for my very small role in bringing the mine back to life. They’re super-polite. Almost Canadian.

Skyrim Glitches: Bedknobs and Broomstick and Elevators and Mushrooms

I have to say I’m digging the new expansion for Skyrim. It has more of an adventure game feel to it than the rest of the game has. There’s more hidden rooms, puzzles and challenges per dungeon. I went into one tower that was practically 70% booby-traps and 30% invisible ninja assassins. That’s just the overworld quest part of the game. The story part takes on a whole new dimension, literally. Opening books will teleport you into a ghostly library made out of stacks of books and loose papers. Tentacles will reach out of the poisonous waters below to try and swat at you while, “Specters,” some odd half-ghost, half-crablike-tentacle things will try and blast you out of the dimension altogether after appearing out of thin air. Plus they summon more Spectres to fight for them. Finishing the book level will grant you one of three new powers. By far, the most useful ability I’ve see is the power that makes your Companions immune to your attacks. How many times have you killed one of you wardogs, of Lydia with a stray power, then had to make a choice between going on or reseting? I’m surprised it took this long to include the power in the game.

There’s a part in the expansion where you come across a mini-mage guild, housed inside giant mushrooms, because mushrooms and video games go together like PB and J. Inside the tallest mushroom, there’s a glowing shaft of wind spiralling upwards to the top. Interacting with this will float you up like you were in Futurama’s tubes. Getting back down is the hard part. Jumping will kill you, and you can land on top of your Comapnion’s or other NPC’s head. The wizard who owns the place will beckon you to follow him. He’ll jump down the elevator, then, after you float down after him, he’ll float back up. When you float back up, he’ll start the animation for opening a door at the top of the elevator, despite the fact the door is at the bottom, and disappear. Somehow, while not paying attention, I died two times trying to follow him through this simple step.

I got into another kerfuffle while trying to free slaves from another pillar. This time, I accidentally struck a Reaver, which is actually an enemy NPC. I got a 40 gold bounty on my head for that, for hitting a criminal. I decided to reset, just because. It was weird too, because there were about five or so Reavers standing around. I expected them to attack me after I free them, because that’s what they’re programmed to do. Instead, they just sort of gawk around then wander off to where ever they came from.

I was a vampire before starting the expansion and found it too difficult, as a majority of the quests involve walking across the map and exploring. I kept losing health, magic and stamina and not being able to regain it, so I opted for changing back to mortal. I met Delvin from the Thief’s Guild’s brother, the blacksmith, who had a less than impressive story for living on the island. I noticed, however, that his eyes seemed to glow in the light of his forge. Could he be a vampire/thief/blacksmith? That’s an impressive resume.

The expansion also gives you a quest to obtain a new home, pre-furnished. You don’t have to dick around with spending money on the house or decorating, which was kind of nice.

Skyrim: Mo’ Dragonborn, Mo’ Problems

Prior to the Dragonborn vs. Dragonborn deathmatch build-up in the expansion pack, “Dragonborn,” for Skyrim, the player is asked to go around Soltheim and release mind controlled workers from their labours by shouting at a pillar. Like literally shouting at a pillar. Other games may ask you to push a button on a panel, or physically hit it, but this isn’t other games. Shouting at the inanimate pillar causes a localized earthquake and inexplicable yellow burst effects. Then a Lovecraftian beast called a Lurker emerges from a portal and starts attacking you with roots or tendrils, which shoot up from the ground when it stomps it’s feet.

Problem is, the half-dozen or so mind-slaves who were obliviously building a shrine around the pillar snap-to at that exact moment, and freak the fuck out. They run in and try to fight the Lurker with their bare fists. If you’re going to punch the Lurker, you’re going to have a bad time. This happens usually as you’re in mid-swing of your all-powerful magic sword. Some fucker will show up between you and the mini-Cthulu to try and box it.

If you’re lucky, you can kill the Lurker without majorly injuring everyone else. About 3/4 of your spells and such are AoE, so good luck with that. After getting through one Lurker battle, I noticed another commotion. A second Lurker had emerged from the water by the shore as I was fighting. As I’m level 64, fights don’t last that long. I have no fucking clue what happened, but I rushed the Lurker and struck it down. Then I noticed city guards were attacking me, so I sheathed my weapon, but they went on attacking. My Daemora Lord might have had something to do with that. He slaughtered one of the guards and I decided to finish off another. After that, things went back to normal. I tried looking around to figure out what went wrong, and saw an innocent bystander lying dead on the ground. I, of course, robbed them. It looked as though the damage could have been much worse if it wasn’t for the fact the other people involved were active quest givers, and therefore invincible. I shrugged, thinking there was nothing I could do, and went back to town.

That’s when the entire town tried to attack me. As one. Every guard in the city descended on me, showing no signs of mercy. My choices were to let them kill me or kill them all, rendering me forever outlawed. I had to reset, because I didn’t feel like that bullshit. There’s a reason Skyrim saves every five minutes or so.

Skyrim Glitches: Dragonborn Edition

“Dragonborn” is an appropriate, yet odd choice for an add-on title for Skyrim, as I’ve been playing as the proverbial Dragonborn for over 64 levels of mayhem. It’s not like I’m just finding out the secret of the Dragonborn is. The game explicitly explains what the Dragonborn is and what the Dragonborn’s destiny should be, and lets you live that out. Now, it’s telling you there’s another Dragonborn, with a knife to the face.

Your quest begins as two cultists confront you, the Dragonborn, and insist that you are an impostor. You correct them of their assumptions by Shouting them to dust. I was accompanied by Serenna for this first step of the journey, and she promptly zombified one of the cultists, and I had to wait for her spell to wear off so I could investigate the dead body. In the meantime, I tried to figure out where the hell my adoptive daughter has gone to. Lydia should have been watching over her in Breezehome, but I found Lydia sitting in my bedroom staring at my empty bed, perhaps with longing, perhaps with regret. My daughter’s room was empty, but her bed was owned. Where could she be? Moon River.

I forgot about that and set sail for a the ash-strewn island of Soltheim, where every occupant knows the name of the man I seek, but none can recall why. Everyone give me the same clue, to look for the temple. I find it, but not before a mishap. I encounter a madman who talks about fingers not being long enough, a tower, and a black book. Then he attacks me. I follow his description of a tower and approach the nearest tower. There’s no obvious way in, so I try leaping over some rocks. I immediately become trapped, stuck between two rocks. This is roughly the fourteenth time I’ve become stuck on the map, unable to move out of a small recession in the terrain. My avatar does not have the ability to climb out of a foot-deep pit. I had to reset.

The first quest I found on Soltheim was ironically identical to the fist quest I ever finished in Whiterun. I offered to clear out the tombs beneath the temple of the restless dead. You’d think that cremating the dead would prevent them from coming back as zombies, but I had no such luck.

I find it peculiar that in both cases, a priest was content to sleep inches away from a zombie filled tomb, with only a locked door separating him from certain, gruesome death, and that he had not enlisted the air of the numerous guards around the city as soon as he discovered what was going on. If I hadn’t come along, he’d still be there, hoping that the situation would resolve itself. The people of Skyrim and the surrounding provinces have the common sense and problem solving skills of lemmings in a Disney nature movie.

Seriously, though, the zombie to living ration in Skyrim is higher than The Walking Dead. Plus, The Walking Dead survivors don’t have to worry about their bone-dry ancient ancestors rising from their graves, armed to the teeth with swords, shields and bows. When you think about how necromancy is universally reviled in their culture, and how useful a skill it is to turn an enemy zombie into your ally, you’d wonder at their logic too. It’d be like outlawing dentistry because of all your rotten teeth.

I found the dungeons beneath Soltheim identical to the dungeons of Skyrim, which is disappointing as I expect to spend the next thirty hours exploring the same shade of walled room as I’ve been exploring for the last hundred or so hours.

Halo 4 Racism

Halo 4 is a game where a man in a green space suit shoots hundreds of aliens in their faces. It’s also racist. The game takes place in the far-flung future where nations don’t really matter, and race itself has become sort of a moot point. Previously in the series, black character were featured prominently, much like Samuel L. Jackson’s Nick Fury in the Avengers. I don’t recall any black characters in Halo 4, unless they were nameless guards on the Infinity. Your multiplayer Spartan is, of course, raceless, as he or she is all decked out in head-to-toe armour. For all you know, there could be a swirling mass of gas in there where skin should be, ala Legion of Superheroes.

The sore point with Halo 4 is that is finally reveals Master Chief’s face (he’s white). This only occurs when you beat the game on Legendary, but you see him as a child beforehand. The reason this is racist isn’t because he’s white, it’s because the game clearly states that Master Chief is the most perfect and highly evolved human being to ever live. The proverbial, “Chosen One.” Master Chief is quite literally, the Master Race. And he’s white.

There’s a bizarre scene in the game where he’s transformed into his ultimate form. Millions of years of evolution go past in the blink of an eye under his armour. He could have emerged from his helmet as a beam of light. Instead, he’s a white guy, which statistics show is actually in decline.

That kind of drops the ball. On the one hand, you want the game to be relatable to it’s audience, and for people to identify with him. On the other hand, you’re being completely un-imaginitive and callous. By comparison, Spider-Man 2099, featuring a half-Irish, half-Mexican protagonist is more advanced. We’re a global village now. My own kids are 1/4 Japanese, and the sure as hell didn’t get that from me. I might even be 1/16 Native American, (or Injun as the 16th of me was called back then). I’m at least 50% Scottish and the rest is mostly English. When I’m the whitest man alive and I’m still confused about 1/8th or more of my racial heritage, what chance do our children have? We’re not living in the age of Serfdom anymore where you could expect to live and die in the same village. These days, six months isn’t the travel time between coasts on the Atlantic Ocean, it the time it would take you to reach Mars.

Eventually, race won’t matter. Some people will have lighter skin, and others will have darker skin. That won’t make them, “White,” and, “Black.” We’ll be like litters of puppies where one has black fur and the other has brown fur with white spots, and another is white altogether. Who the hell cares? We’re all adorable puppies.

Look at the last two minutes of Halo 4. Whitey’s everywhere. It’s a White World, Charlie Brown.

XXX-Mas 2: ‘Tits the Semenson

‘Tis the Season. At work they’re playing a radio mix of 80’s and bland Christmas music, the two most blatantly commercial genres in existence. Sometimes I wonder what would happen to all the coked-up record executives in the 80’s if internet music downloads had existed at the time. People would be flinging themselves out of windows… onto mountains of their cocaine before the Columbian drug lords could repo it all.

I’ve always wondered if in the Deep South they play non-stop Country in their stores and shopping malls, even around Christmas. Like, they’re all super-blow-up-an-abortion-clinic-Christian, but even they think Christmas music is too gay.

Do you even want to think about how much money people are making doing shitty covers of already shitty Christmas songs that everyone’s heard a million times before? Quadrillions.

Fuck A Duck

Setting: “Fuck A Duck” Gameshow

Props: Microphones, a kiddie pool with water, a blindfold, duck.

Bill: “Hi, I’m Bill Tannerman and you’re here for another exciting episode of America’s favourite game show, ‘Fuck a Duck!’ Let’s meet our first contestant, Michelle! Michelle! Welcome to, ‘Fuck a Duck!’ Tell me, where are you from?”

Michelle: “I’m from Tennessee!”

Bill: “That’s unfortunate. Tell me, Michelle, have you ever fucked a duck before?”

Michelle: “No I haven’t, Bill!”

Bill: “Well do you know how the game is played?”

Michelle: “I sure do, Bill!”

Bill: “You’ve got to fuck a duck! Everyone’s a winner, Michelle! There’s no wrong way to play. Why don’t we meet the ducks? We’ve got five ducks here tonight. We’ve been feeding them bread crumbs and cigarette butts. I don’t know what ducks eat. Michelle, looking at these ducks, could you tell me which ones are boys, and which ones are girls?”

Michelle: “No I couldn’t, Bill!”

Bill: “Does it matter to you?”

Michelle: “Not really, Bill!”

Bill: “We’ve got a bisexual duck fucker here tonight, folks! She goes both ways! With ducks! Now do you know anything about duck genitals at all? Do you know what they’ve got going on down there?”

Michelle: “No I don’t, Bill!”

Bill: “Me neither! They seem really small, though, because I’ve never personally seen them and it’s sort of my job here. Are you worried about contracting duck S.T.D.s?”

Michelle: “Not really, Bill!”

Bill: “Are you worried about giving our ducks S.T.D.s? That would be bad. I mean, I’ve known these ducks for a while now, and I’d hate for anything to happen to them. I’ve come to think of them as a second family, as my real family no longer speaks to me. ‘Cause of the show. But life goes on. Michelle, are you ready to fuck some ducks?”

Michelle: “I sure am, Bill!”

Bill: “Wait! Before you go and fuck these ducks, I want to know, would you risk it all and go one better? Tonight, we want you to try our Super Secret Special Round, Blind Man’s Luck Duck Fuck! Michelle, let me tell you all about it! In Blind Man’s Luck Duck Fuck, you have to put on a blindfold and then step into our Wading Pool of Doom! Yes, there’s going to be five different ducks for you to fuck, but don’t fuck that loon! That’s right! There’s a loon in there, and if you fuck it by mistake, you’ll be immediately escorted from the facility and thrown off a bridge. How does that sound?”

Michelle: “That sounds exciting, Bill!”

Bill: “But wait, there’s more! If you fuck all five ducks, you can win a fabulous prize. Tatters, tell her what she can win!”

Tatters: “This 64 pack of Crayola Crayons featuring only the most racist colour known to man, Indian Red!”

Bill: “That’s right! 64 Indian Red Crayons. Think of it, you could draw the entire Trail of Tears with that. What do you think about that, Michelle?”

Michelle: “I think I’m ready to try Blind Man’s Luck Duck Fuck!”

Bill: “She’s going to do it! Folks, while she’s stripping down and lubing up, I want to talk to you about our #1 hit-rated show. Did you know that, ‘Fuck A Duck,’ is actually based on a much less popular Canadian game show call, ‘Fowl Play?’ The rules are the same, but instead of ducks, they used Canadian Geese. They had to be shut down after the second season because everyone caught, ‘Swimmers Itch.’ Can you imagine it, folks? Canada, it’s just like America, but without the balls. Alright! Let’s see how Michelle is doing! …She appears to have downed in four inches of water… That’s… unfortunate. Folks, we’re going to take a commercial break and see if we can revive Michelle. If not, we’ll see you next week, right here on, ‘Fuck a Duck!"'

I’ve Got Halo 4 Problems, but a Bitch Ain’t One

I’ve only just finished the Halo 4 campaign. I only ever really encountered one glitch, where my Pelican wouldn’t take off at the beginning of a mission, but it was relatively easy to resolve by restarting the level. I wanted to call it, “The Pelican Brief,” glitch. I don’t see why I can’t.

Halo 4 differs from all other Halo games by having a clear and definitive antagonist. Master Chief’s always been butting heads against random soldiers in the field, but there’s never been a big baddie. There was that weird Space Pope guy and the, “Flood,” plus the evil floating orb robot, but they’re not really a foil. Diadact is more like Master Chief himself, but with tusks, and unexplained Darth Vader force powers. Diadact can magically ensnare Master Chief using pychokinesis and render him completely helpless. He does this two times. Plus, he knows everything Mater Chief is doing at all times. He still somehow loses. The epic final battle between the two involved pressing the grenade button when told to. It wasn’t even a mini-event you could fail, say, by not pushing the button in time, or in sequence. It’s like pressing the button to move on to the next piece of dialogue.

There were a lot of too-easy levels, like the Ghost race from the exploding planet, which made no sense and seemed like a level stolen from the Toy Story 3 game, which was actually harder. Playing on Normal and playing on Legendary on that one seems like it would be the same difficulty as well, which is odd.

There’s an entire level dedicated to ripping off Star Fox, only much, much easier, and with nobody telling you to do a barrel roll.

For some reason, every mission objective has you doing things in twos. You don’t just have to deactivate a barrier, or whatnot, you have to deactivate two, in the exact same fashion, on identical platforms, with the same group of bad guys guarding each goal. This happens at least five times or more. Sometimes, it mixes it up by asking you to blow up three identical power sources… to blow up the two others.

The graphics and three, count them THREE new enemies are the only thing really separating the game from the others. Some of the weapons are ridiculously overpowered as well. Others, like the standard battle rifle and the Dominion version of the same, have an irritating effect on one of the new enemies. The new Knights teleport, and will do so unless you successfully empty an entire full rifle clip into. If you miss one bullet, you have to reload and wait for them to reappear. They often come in threes as well, and look identical, so you’ll have either guess which one you just shot, or pay way more attention than the situation requires.

Mater Chief doesn’t get a whole lot of respect in the game. Despite everyone in the universe acknowledging he’s the greatest human being to ever live, and has saved all of humanity in the past, he’s still treated like a scrub. Bear in mind, his name isn’t Mater Chief. That’s his title. That’s like being Emperor God. You’d think there wouldn’t be a person left in a position of authority over him, but no, he gets chewed out by a ship’s captain. Whom he helps rescue.

The other problem with Master Chief is that he’s supposed to be a master strategist, on par with Napoleon or any other leader in history. Every single one of his plans involves him going into a dangerous situation with little to no weapons, ammo, back-up, or escape route. Alone. That’s… dumb. Really, really dumb. His only ace-in-the-hole is Cortana, who is frequently captured, disabled, or compromised. The whole game’s romantic sub-plot is that Cortana is breaking down, and he’s still relying on her faulty programming to do literally everything for him. Without her, he can’t so much as open a door. Any door. Imagine losing a war because you couldn’t open a door, because your computer program has a virus. There’s no door handles in the future.

Halo 4 Galileo Glitch

I was play Spartan Ops EP:3, CH:2, Galileo, and everything was going normal until the last objective of the level. I died from a headshot and when I respawned, all the enemies were seemingly invisible, or they had fallen through the map. All you could see were their guns, which were just above ground level. Plus they were moving around as erratically as possible. The only way to kill them was seemingly with grenades.

This wasn’t the case, however. I eventually saw one up close when it stopped moving long enough to get a good look. They were still there, only impossibly small: about as small as the game could render them. They were basically the size of the bullets I was shooting at them. It was fucked up to say the least, like some alternative Big-Head mode. I tried to record it in my file share, but it only save Wargames matches.

Halocopter 4

Strangely, around the same time Halo 4 came out, I saw Halo 4” lights on sale at Home Depot, and had to wonder if it was a completely unrelated coincidence or an actual ad wizard came up with that one.

My ability to splatter enemies across the map has been hampered as of late. In virtually all cases, the splatee is jumping out of the way, whereas I am being splattered constantly. I tried using the hard light shield ability a few times, thinking it would cause the offending vehicle to instantly explode like in Halo Reach when deployed. Nope. The same damage is taken with or without the shield, which defies the laws of physics. Halo is full of those confusing moments where something that seems innocent can kill you, and something that looks like it can kill you is harmless. For instance, being attacked from behind can instant-kill you, whereas taking a full clip to the sternum at point-blank range has the same effect on your shields as stubbing your toe. I think the major change with my ability to pilot vehicles effectively has to do with the enemy always standing directly in front of a rock or wall, causing me to curve my steering too much to be effective. I end up missing and grinding up against the wall, unable to turn, while they throw grenades at me. There’s always a second fucker blasting away at my vehicle while I’m zeroed in on a target as well. Bailing out never, ever works. Not for me. I’ll hold down the X button and my character will take two seconds to jump out. The animation for the exit always starts as the vehicle explodes in a purple haze of plasma.

People online were bitching because weapon drops have to be earned now instead of being pre-placed on the map. I’m fine with that. The game was all about running like mad when you spawned to grab the best gun, and then suffering if you happened to get there second. The vehicles are still ready to go, with other appearing at certain pre-set scores. That means everyone runs for the vehicles now when the game starts, because you’re a sitting duck if you don’t. I don’t know why the Ragnarok map has four mongooses. Mongooses suck. They suck so hard. So very hard. They’re useless. You can’t even run people over with them. You always sort of just bounce off them, like you’re on a giant beach ball. Then you get blown up.

I had to look online to remember how to assassinate. It’s not listed in your controls. You’d think it’d be a big thing, considering it’s always an insta-kill. I did my first assassination in the game on a Knight in Spartan-Ops. My screen lit up with Achievements and Avatar Awards. It’s like I found the game’s clitoris.

I was expecting a huge drop in the online population because of CoD, and there was.

Chewie and Joey

Now that Lucasfilms has the ambition to make two to three Star Wars related movies a year, I’m closer to being able to pitch my pilot project, “Chewie and Joey.” “Chewie and Joey” is a sitcom starring Chewbacca from Star Wars and Joey Lawrence from Blossom, living together as roommates in an apartment (Joey and Chandler’s apartment from Friends, specifically). Hi-jinx ensue.

Here’s a sample of some dialogue:

Joey: “Hey Chewie, the shower drain is clogged full of hair!”

Chewie: “Rwarrrr!”

Joey: “Whoa!”

Their landlord will be Holographic Don Knotts, who doesn’t like Wookies and doesn’t know that Chewie is one, and so Joey has to dress him in a variety of disguises. Their wacky neighbour will, of course, be Kramer, as I’m pretty sure he’s not doing anything with his career right now. Only now, he’s addicted to crack, and is often caught stealing things from their apartment. Sometimes he’ll just burst into the room and start spouting out racial slurs.

The lyrics to the theme song will be, “Chewie and Joey! A-a-a-a-a-a-aaa…” sung to the theme from, “The Never Ending Story.”

When Chewie and Joey go to hang out, they head down to the Canatana where Chewie has a crush on one of the girls who works there, who’s inexplicably one of the green alien chicks from Star Trek, but he’s too shy to ask her out. Too bad she’s dating Boba Fett, who’s essentially the dick boyfriend from every 80’s movie. Chewie tries to take dating tips from Joey, but most involve being ridiculously good-looking.

Plus the Empire is out to get them, and they’re frequently attacked by bumbling, incompetent Storm Troopers.

Hello, Halo 4

Headshots and splatters seem easier in Halo 4 than any other online shooter I’ve played. I can get about three of each in a match. I don’t think it has anything to do with skill, really. I think it has more to do with people lolling around while I shoot them. They seem okay with that. Unlike other iterations in the franchise as well, bullets have an effect. It use to be you had to empty two clips into an enemy to kill them. Now, I can fire three well-aimed shots and get a kill. Hip firing, as always, is easier than scoped kills in Halo. I had to struggle to remember how to even zoom, and which weapons had a real zoom-option and which immediately snapped you back to regular crossfire. In the end, I gave up on trying to get long-shots and settled for mid-range to close kills. I don’t bother with fancy weapon pick-ups either and I stick to the regular battle rifles. They seem balanced enough to go up against a better armed opponent with poorer aim.

It may be the graphics upgrade, but it’s easier to target enemies and time shots. Splattering is just ridiculous in this game. It’s more difficult to jump out of the way of an oncoming vehicle than it is to run someone over. You don’t even need the guns the vehicles are equipped with, as they seem merely for show. I can even hijack back a vehicle that’s been hijacked from me, or stick it with a grenade immediately after and laugh my balls off. You can get the gun of your warthog hijacked by the enemy as you’re driving and the two of you somehow become part of the same team. The enemy gunner can’t hurt you as the gun doesn’t reach the driver’s seat and you can’t hurt them directly as you’re driving. You just drive around like a mismatched pair of detectives in an action movie. I had this happen to me tonight and I was stuck wondering what the hell I was supposed to do. I settled for driving the vehicle off-map and jumping out at the last second. The vehicle immediately exploded, killing the gunner as I walked back to shore, unscathed. I stood in front of the explosion like I was Gangaman.

I’m still having trouble at close range with dust-up. When you’re firing into the torso area, and you have to reload, and it’s quicker just to rush forward and punch them than to put a new bullet in the chamber, I always seem to lose.

Herro 4

I went to the midnight launch of Halo 4 thinking I could snag one of the free T-shirts for the first fifty customers. I arrived at around 12:04, and I was the two-hundredth of so person there. In fact, I was dead last. I didn’t think it was going to be that popular, since it was a console exclusive. Earlier, I was kicking myself for not pre-ordering. Those feelings went away after standing in line for twenty-minutes at the regular line-up. The pre-order line was twice as long as the sales line, and it wasn’t moving. At all. I couldn’t understand why, even with all the people there, the sales line was taking so long. It wasn’t like waiting in line at Starbucks. Everyone was buying the exact same thing. The cashiers didn’t even have to ask what you wanted, all they had to do was immediately produce a copy of Halo 4 and take money from your greasy hands. Somehow, people made it difficult. The pre-order line was for people picking up things they had already paid for. In theory, it should have taken no time at all. In theory. All you should have to do is produce a slip of paper and get the matching product, then jetpack out of the store. One guy was taking up no less than three clerk’s time for over ten minutes. The store was only supposed to be open for an hour for the event. I was personally worried I wasn’t going to get through in time before closing.

I did manage to get codes for in-game armour, which later appeared to be un lockable even without the codes. So really, they wasted paper and ink printing the codes out, and my time entering in the two over 24-digit long random codes into my system with only a controller.

The first thing I discovered, upon opening the game, was that there were two discs, ala Battlefield 2, with no clear indication which disc was for what. Typically, a shooter has one disc for multiplayer. I put in disc one, and trying multiplayer prompted me to insert disc two, which forced me to restart my system, then install the disc, which took about five to seven minutes. I screwed around by modifying my armour before jumping into any matches, and was surprised when I unlocked two achievements just for that. Then, starting the multiplayer in earnest, I jumped on Big Slayer and was surprised to see an old, touched-up map from Halo 3, and thought to myself, “How lazy.” I know people have their favourite maps, but the point of buying and playing a new game is to play a new game. If I wanted to keep playing the same maps, I’d go and play Halo 3, or Halo ODST, which had the same maps. In summation: Three games in the Halo franchise have the exact same map. The only change I noticed, as I looked around dejected, besides the graphics, was a mech suit. I immediately ran screaming and jumped inside, as this is really all I ever wanted out of life. I played around with the controls, thinking they must have nerfed the mech suit somehow so it wouldn’t be as awesome as it looked. Seconds later, I had scored my third kill. It was exactly that awesome, and awesomer still. It even had a button for a power-stomp. I was eventually hi-jacked, but I couldn’t care. I’d already cum.

I went up about five levels in two matches, without my bonus Mountain Dew XP.

The rest of the game then immediately decided it was going to be same-old, same-old.

I tried the campaign today. In the past I remarked that in Halo your character is always in a dramatic, slow-motion helicopter/plane crash every level or more. The level starts with a space battleship crash. That’s the entire level. Not only does it crash, but other ships crash into the ship as it crashes. Then, all those ships crash into another ship, while yet another ship crashes into yours. The next level picks up in the wreckage of all the crashed ships. Sometimes I worry that Master Chief gets off on it as much as he gets off on holographic women, like he’s in a David Cronenhberg movie.

I had yet to see a single new enemy. The game supposedly takes place four years after Halo 3, in which the Covenant lose, and he defeats the Flood. Halo 4 basically says, “Aw hell no!” to that idea, and gives him a billion more of the same three main enemies to fight. Think about how much the Germans changed in between WWI and WWII. The Covenant didn’t change a bit. They still have the same mustard stains on their armour.

Pre-order

I tried to pre-order something for the first time this week. It was going to be Halo 4. I realized I was going to end up shelling out $60 for it anyway, so why no try to get a freebie out of it? I looked around at all the pre-order bonuses and decided that Wal-Mart had the best deal going, and tried to order it there. That involved talking to Wal-Mart clerks. At least three clerks at two separate Wal-Marts didn’t understand the, “Pre-Order,” part of my sentence, and tried to find the actual product on the shelf. I had to repeat the, “Pre-Order,” part several times, and was told they never got any of the pre-order cards that were apparently essential to the process. So then I tried Bestbuy, with their second best deal. The had no less than four spots with pre-order cards. The only spot for Halo 4 was empty. I thought about going to EBgames where asking to preorder Halo 4 would likely result in them asking me if I wanted to preorder every other game that didn’t exist yet, and decided, “Fuck it.”

Online fared no better, as I’d passed the invisible pre-order date, and didn’t want to wait for the product to be shipped to my house. I tried the Wal-Mart and Bestbuy sites to see if I could order and pick it up in store, as I live and work in striking distance of both stores, and don’t want to play, “Answer the door in the allotted time or be forced to drive out to our shipping centre and pay extra fees for a product you could buy in store for less.” Apparently that was a no-no. EBgames’s site was acting like a retarded child, so I said, “Fuck it,” in general.

I Threw it on the Ground

Every time there’s a new “i” device, some yahoos on youtube start making videos of themselves throwing it on the ground. Sometimes it’s to “test” them, other times it’s to test the people lined up to buy the device. Their allegiances are typically quite clear. If it’s an iPad, it’s an Android fan doing it. If it’s a Xbox, it’s a Playstation fanboy doing it. They’re wasting hundreds of dollars for hundreds of thousands of views to their channel. In a way, their investment makes sense.

The result of these videos is difficult to ascertain. It’s not quite comedy, and it’s not quite informative, or scientific. Obviously if you drop something hard enough, you’ll break it.

These people are essentially bullies kicking over sandcastles. In a way, though, it’s poetic. The lifespan of these devices is measures in months at the smallest. Apple comes out with a newer, better, more fashionable product in less than a year. The shelf-life of a computer system is three to five years. In the end, they’re forgotten and discarded. Breaking it out of the box is only expediting the process. The comments are always, “Why would you do this?” or a snarky comment about how the commentator is so cool for owning a rival brand.

The other strange youtube phenomenon is, “Unboxing,” where users take exceptionally long videos of themselves literally unboxing a new product. The experience is pornographic for some, but utterly unnecessary. Every must-have product has countless pictures, videos and descriptions from the horse’s mouth long before it ever makes it to the shelf. Unboxing is only the realization of the hype, even though it shouldn’t be. The unboxer is always dedicated to the product, and their commentary will always be positive. If they weren’t a fan of the product, they’d be doing a, “Will it blend?” video instead. I wondered who these kinds of videos appeal to? Obviously if you’re bursting at the seams with anticipation for a product, you’d be waiting in line like all the other drones to buy it. Why would you sit around at home or at the office watching someone unbox something you could easily go out and buy yourself? Have you ever watched someone open presents at a birthday party or wedding? It’s excruciating. At my sister’s wedding I almost passed out from sheer, maddening boredom watching her and her husband open up toaster ovens and china sets for hours, while family and friends commented on the products. “That’s got three settings!” It’s better to give than to receive, but watching someone else receive is like watching them eat a bowl of cereal. Yes, they’re enjoying it, because they’re suppose to. It’s only interesting if they flip out and throw a fit because they didn’t get what they wanted, like when Eric Cartman didn’t get the Red Megaman.

In a way, these two video themes are like snuff films and porn for boring people.

Yo-Ho, Ho.

If I had access to a time machine, I’d go around the past and bury empty treasure chests all over the place, with clues leading to the next chest. Then I’d spread rumours around and come back to the future to see how many people wasted their lives. Maybe I’d put real treasure in the last chest and use my time machine to make sure to dig it up minutes before the first person arrived with their shovel, so I could turn around and tell them, “You’re too late!”

Presidential Loopholes

Remember when Gore won the popular vote and that didn’t mean shit? I’ve always wondered what other loopholes there could be.

For example, what if:

• The world ends on December 21, 2012, making this election moot.
• Romney: “There are 47 percent of the people who will vote for the president no matter what. All right, there are 47 percent who are with him, who are dependent upon government, who believe that they are victims, who believe that government has a responsibility to care for them, who believe that they are entitled to health care, to food, to housing, to you name it. That that's an entitlement. And the government should give it to them. And they will vote for this president no matter what. And I mean, the president starts off with 48, 49, 48—he starts off with a huge number. These are people who pay no income tax. Forty-seven percent of Americans pay no income tax. So our message of low taxes doesn't connect. And he'll be out there talking about tax cuts for the rich. I mean that's what they sell every four years. And so my job is not to worry about those people—I'll never convince them that they should take personal responsibility and care for their lives. What I have to do is convince the 5 to 10 percent in the center that are independents that are thoughtful, that look at voting one way or the other depending upon in some cases emotion, whether they like the guy or not, what it looks like. I mean, when you ask those people…we do all these polls—I find it amazing—we poll all these people, see where you stand on the polls, but 45 percent of the people will go with a Republican, and 48 or 4…” This entire quote basically states that Romney disavows forty-seven percent of the American population, meaning that even if elected, Obama will still retain control over this section, dividing the nation in two. If you’re on any kind of welfare or social program, then Mitt Romney isn’t legally your President.
• Zombie Lincoln. Never lost an election or stepped down from office, meaning he still is technically President… of BRAAAAAINS!
• George W. Bush being elected as President turned the American democratic system into a monarchy, as his father was a sitting President. Thus the United States are disbanded and given back to Britain.
• Obama loses and invokes, “Thunderdome,” challenge to Romney.
• Fallout from Hurricane Sandy leaves a huge swath of the American population unable to cast their vote. The results are not recognized because of this.
• Someone finally notices that the Bill of Rights expired hundreds of years ago and was never renewed.
• Obama wins, but loses his birth certificate. Trump totally calls him on it.
• In a Criss-Cross killing, both potential Vice-Presidents kill their Presidential opponents. (Personal note: as a terrible-side effect of googling, “Criss-Cross” to spell-check, I accidentally pulled up the results, “Cris-art.” I didn’t even click a link, but an add-on for Google Chrome highlighted a comic picture of a dude jacking off another dude inside his pants. That’s the essence of the internet.)

How Do You Like Those Apples?

Halloween is the only time of year where you can be arrested for trying to give nutritious, fresh apples to children as treats. There’s nothing sketchier than someone giving out apples out on Halloween. You can expect to be ostracized from society after a thorough police investigation if you do. Everyone knows strangers put razors blades and syringes in apples to murder and mutilate our children. Except they don’t, and they’ve never. Every instance of a treat being poisoned or tampered with is a direct result of the parents doing it themselves. It’s an urban myth, which is easily debunked thanks to police files being linked online.

Apples were traditional treats as well, as they fit into the Fall harvest theme that use to be a part of the Halloween season. Remember apple bobbing? No one under twenty does, because of the myth, and also it wasn’t a great game to begin with. It’s like your trying to make eating an apple as unhygienic as possible by having everyone dip their faces and saliva into the same barrel. Plus you couldn’t play if you had face paint or a mask on.

If someone tried to give your kid a candy bar in his lunch, like at McDonalds, you’d start an online protest. If someone tries to give your kid an apple on Halloween, you’d burn their house to the ground like they were Freddy Krueger. How did that happen? Was it a candy company conspiracy?

Why are we only afraid of our children being poisoned by apples on Halloween? Isn’t that technically something that could happen any time, any where? How hard is it to stick a razor blade in an apple at the grocery store? You could even do it at an orchard, and no one would ever suspect until they bit into one.

Is that why whenever you see a kid’s meal with apples they’re always, always sliced? Are we that paranoid? A kid is as likely to choke to death on an apple slice as they are a whole apple. Plus you lose the core and the seeds that way, which you could have used to grow a new apple tree. Throwing an apple core on the ground isn’t garbage, it’s environmental. That apple core isn’t going to become a tree when it’s taken to the dump. If someone mushes it into the ground with their shoe, however, it’s an endlessly renewable food source. What the hell do the apple-slicing companies do with the cores anyway? Are they composting them, or something more sinister? Are they using them as a “food” source?

Trufs

Truth:

Hurricane Sandy proves a disturbing truth about the American political system. Millions are without power, airports across the nation are virtually shut down, billions are lost in business and billions more in damages, to say nothing about the potential loss of life, and the President’s main concern is keeping his job. That’s not a slam on Obama, that’s a statement about every sitting President in American history. Every politician’s job is to keep their job. When you’re President, that means shaking hands, standing in front of a podium, and spewing shit out of your mouth.

And people eat it up. Imagine if you had to re-interview for you job every four years, that you had to stand in front of people and answer the EXACT SAME questions they asked you four years ago. The, “What would you do?” and, “How are you going to…?” questions. You’re the fucking President. If you can’t decide after four years how a person is going to behave in office, and you need to ask them directly, you’re a fucking idiot. The media is wasting everyone’s time including yours by asking for words instead of letting actions speak for themselves. If any President ever told his opponent to fuck off because he was busy running the free world, he’d be voted out of office.

Seriously, Obama should bitch-slap Romney. Imagine the President of France demanding the POTUS debate him three times a week. He’d get bitch- slapped, then Bill Clinton would have sex with his wife, if he hasn’t already.

That a President has any time to spend on campaigning is pretty indicative that the Presidency is a sweet do-nothing job.

Ghost F**kers

Ke$ha claims she’s had sex with a ghost. Likely, the ghost has now contracted Chlamydia.

Stranger still, this is a common phenomenon, and answers one of the most obvious questions about ghosts, namely: if you could haunt the location of your choice, why do ghost end up haunting abandoned, ramshackle houses like spectral crackheads? Think about it: if you could be trapped somewhere, wouldn’t you rather haunt the group shower of the Dallas Cheerleaders than someplace that smells like cat pee and sadness?

Better still, if you could have consequence-free sex with anyone, why wouldn’t you, even if you now have a ghost penis? Why you would chose Ke$ha, I don’t know. Maybe you’re on your way up to Heaven and want one last chance to know what eternal suffering might feel like. Or maybe the body literally disintegrated from disease and shame, leaving only the ghost behind?

That’s Not True, That’s Impossible!

There’s a disturbance in the Force.

Star Wars: Episode VII. Brought to you by Disney, proud owners of Lucasfilms.

A new Star Wars movie every two to three years.

This hit the internet four hours ago and it’s long-reaching effects have yet to be felt. Many people who would likely chip-in with their opinions may be without power or the internet. They’ll emerge from Hurricane Sandy, look around at the devastation it left behind, and then be told the news. Major nerd sites are down, as are their servers.

It’s too early to tell what consequences this will have. Likely, it’s the Apocalypse. Many fans felt the series was destroyed by the prequels. Further sequels (three are confirmed), might destroy the fabric of reality itself.

Yet, there are countless books, games, comic books, action figures and fan-fic dedicated to a continuing series. Isn’t this just a natural progression of that.

Also: George Lucas himself has stepped away from major motion picture to dedicate himself to “hobby” films. His influence will only be felt as a homage.

Plus there’ll have to be a whole new cast. Anyone from the original series would likely only be as cameos.

GOP: Go Pee

Fact: I have never taken a firm stance for, or against abortion, which makes me a more credible political candidate than anyone in the GOP. When confronted with such questions as, “Do you support abortion in instances of rape?” I know to knock over my podium and flee.

In the past weeks, representatives from the GOP have claimed that women have the biological ability to stop themselves from getting pregnant during a rape, and that pregnancy by rape is, “God’s will.”

Why would you touch, or go near those questions? Why would you answer them instead of getting up and socking the person in the jaw? Any question about rape or abortion is so obviously loaded that the person deserves a good punch. Of course, you can’t ignore those kinds of questions in real life. Oh wait, yes you can. Being a politician is all about avoiding the real issues. I’ve proven that I can do that by doing nothing and being indecisive.

Do you need a decision? Like right this minute? I’ll throw red tape at you, and run away.

To Kill a Mockingbird Lane

I watched the premier for, “Mockingbird Lane,” and I’m confused as to what it’s trying to be or appeal to. The original Munsters, which I’m likely the only living person to have seen and have any recollection of, was an Adams Family rip-off sitcom, the “sit” being that everyone in the family save for the cute blonde girl was a monster. They were loveable versions of famous movie monsters. There was nothing offensive about the show other than its silly premise.

Before the opening credits even roll on Mockingbird Lane, we see a werewolf slaughter a group of hapless scouts. Or at least that’s what it looks like. It’s rather hard to believe they escaped with only minor cuts and scratches. We see one child slammed against a tree hard enough that his sleeping bag explodes into a cloud of feathers. They dubbed over an, “Ouch!” for the kid, because the scene was obviously too gruesome and the audience would have no doubt left in their minds they just saw a kid get 86ed on primetime television. We find out this werewolf is a confused and amnesiac Eddie Munster, who obviously doesn’t follow the puberty rules of Teen Wolf.

Then the rest of the cast gets introduced. For some reason Herman Munster is Jerry O’Connel. The show is intended to be, “sexy,” as evidenced by the super-slow-mo catwalk struts of his vampire wife and bizarre post-coitus lying on the ceiling scene. There’s also quite a fair bit of gore usually not seen outside of Bones and CSI. We have up-close looks at the inside of Herman’s zipper-chest every five minutes, and the show ends with a guest character having his heart surgically removed and his blood drank.

The show also introduces a lonely, over-dedicated scout master who is then immediately murdered and harvested, indicating the show isn’t interested in keeping around secondary characters outside the Munster family. The only evidence of a recurring character is the suspicious neighbour who rides around in her rascal with her dog.

As it was the premier, there was some special attention paid to the special effects and some CGI, but I assume the budget won’t let them keep that up over the course of the series. I don’t understand why the show would need anything besides heavy make-up and some fake props, as that was all the original had.

Aside from a few awkward double-entendres (murder-based, not sexual) there wasn’t much comedy to be had in the series. So it isn’t a sitcom. It’s more of a lighter-hearted horror series, like a dumbed-down Buffy. I have no idea what it’s doing with itself.

Paranatural/Supernormal

While watching supernatural videos on youtube, I realized that the existence of ghosts will never be categorically proven. We’re entering an always-on era, where even the most mundane events will be recorded for posterity. Security cameras are on every corner, and people carry smartphones and camera phones around in their pockets with them wherever they go. Eventually, if not already, someone will record irrefutable proof of a ghost, if they exist.

Consider this video with the caption, “Real or Fake?”

That’s always going to be the case. No one will ever be able to produce a video without the public outcry of, “Fake!” being tagged on to it. Witness accounts are useless as evidence, and all videos and photos will be dissected as fake. There’s even television shows dedicated to debunking these videos. If anyone on the planet is capable of recreating the images in the video, no matter how likely or costly their methods might be, the video will be rejected.

How else could you prove that ghosts exist, save for taking an individual and having them witness the ghost firsthand? Even then, the subject could claim they were merely hallucinating, or that they were tricked. You would have to be able to recreate the experience for every sceptic 100% of the time. Even if a ghost were to become President of the United States, there would still be disbelievers.

Ghosts, by their very nature, however, are not subject to the scientific method. There’s no set structure of rules governing their manifestations, only legends and rumours.

The study of ghosts, however, is as ancient as any intellectual strain in the human consciousness. While there may be no ghosts, ghost hunters are very real, very tangible people, and a legitimate profession. Ghost hunters are not a modern phenomenon, either. The belief in ghosts likely predates human history, with some of the earliest references coming from the dawn of Chinese civilization over 10,000 years ago.

So in 10,000 years or more, no one has officially captured a ghost. Those statistics are kind of downer, but as I said, we’re closer than ever, even, ironically, if they don’t exist.

Shitwich

I bought a jar of Crunchy Wow Butter today at Safeway. Wow Butter is a peanut-alternative soy-butter product. For every invention George Washington Carver made, someone out there had to invent an alternative. It’s like Apple and Samsung, but in this instance the knock-off is more expensive than the original. It’s like $5.00 for a tiny jar. I also saw a Maple Butter jar that was about $12, and I’m pretty sure it would cause diabetes, and turn people Canadian. It’s basically a magic-potion that’ll turn you into my brother. They should spray that stuff over battlefields so everyone has to stop fighting to take their insulin and watch hockey.

As I was spreading Wow Butter over my bread, I stopped to wonder what made it, “Crunchy.” Was it peanuts? How is something crunchy like a peanut and not a peanut? What the fuck is soy anyway? Apparently I was eating toasted soy.

Soy can be made into anything. There’s soy milk. You can milk soy. I don’t know how that’s possible. Tiny, tiny teats? No one goes out and eats a handful of soy on their own, though. It’s a garbage food, but it’s in everything. So is sunflower seeds and corn, but people like that by itself. Nobody likes soy for soy. That’s why they have to call it, “Wow Butter.” “Soy Butter,” would make a person vomit before it even touches their lips.

It doesn’t taste that bad, or different… at first. Then, like by the third sandwich it starts to taste more like… whatever soy tastes like. Like this bland, plastic flavour. All I know is that it lets me get my peanut fix without killing my step-kid.

Halloween is coming up, and the top two candies are Snickers and Reese. I would kill for Reese. I would dress up as a clown, jump out of the bushes, and kill sexy teenagers with a machete for their Reese. I’d put it all in a bucket and dump it over myself like a candy Flashdance. I’m talking about the cups and the pieces. I want those all over me and in me. I want to make a rap video where instead of cash, jewellery, big asses and Cristal, everything has been replaced by Reese.

There’s No “I” in “Tieam”

Fact: I’ve won as many Tour De Frances as Lance Armstrong.

Double Fact: I’ve won as many NCAA games as Penn State during the years 1998-2011.

It amazes me that people can dedicate so much time, blood, sweat, tears and have it all taken away from them in a blink of an eye. Ordinary Joes like me lose all the time, but these people are champions. They’re so use to winning that they expect it. My general suckiness is usually the key to my downfall. Taking ‘roids and touching boys has never factored into any of my loses.

How do you do to being a household name to a nobody with one ball, or an asshole wider than most people’s mouths? Secrets. Terrible secrets. When you put yourself out there, you know someone’s going to find the skeletons in your closet. Maybe you get lucky like the “Governator” and nobody finds out about your secret love child until you’ve stepped down from your post, but if you’re a professional athlete and you’re doping you know you’re going to get caught. How the hell did Lance Armstrong, (either guilty or innocent even if he never confessed) not get caught in ten years? He’s had more people look at his piss than… oh, I don’t know, your mom on the internet, let’s say. If doctors were able to find cancer in his nuts, how could they not find performance enhancing drugs in his piss? It’s worse, of course, in the case of Penn State when it seems that so many people knew some sick shit was going on for years, and didn’t say a damn thing to anybody.

That’s not even my point. My point is that watching these people crash and burn makes me feel better about myself and my own sucky life. I can accomplish more by doing nothing and come out better than they do in the end. Look at me: I’ve got two nuts and no one is trying to shank me. Did I ever win a championship? No, and neither did they by reverse decisions. All they managed to do is waste everyone’s time, and do several other things worse than that.

My question is: if they didn’t win, who did? They had their wins erased, but does that mean their opponents are now winners? Did someone show up on their doorsteps with medals and trophies?

Sports, in general, seem to be getting more and more ridiculous with their officiating. How can you lose years after the fact? Who still remembers these matches to begin with? How will they look to sports historians? Are the people involved still alive? After ten years or more, a lot of people will have moved on with their lives. Imagine someone being handed a win after ten years. Think of all the endorsements, the salaries, and the opportunities those people could have had if they had only been declared the winners in the first place. Their lives could have been totally different.

Inconspicuous as Hell

 

This is my new Assassin’s Creed Brotherhood Ezio Auditore Role-Play Gauntlet, which I fully intend to wear on Halloween and stab people with. Now: the appeal behind this weapon is that it’s supposed to be something the wearer can secretly carry around for quick kills. Looking at it on my arm, I realize I’d be better off with a bazooka. The blade doesn’t extend further than my own fingers, which it nearly severs when it shoots out. The Brotherhood remove their ring finger as a sign of devotion to the guild, but I think it’s just to keep them from cutting their own finger off by accident. I can easily see that happening. Imagine leaving a blood trail for the guards to follow, and having to explain yourself while they hold up a severed finger and point to your bloody stump where it came from. Plus, you’ll have the murder weapon strapped to your wrist. What are you going to tell them, that it’s a wrist watch? There’s no way to take this thing off a throw it away in a bind, as the buckles are difficult to undo with one hand. It also includes an optional ornate wrist guard, which would be easily spotted by anyone within five hundred feet. Without it, you could possibly hide the contraption inside your sleeve, but there’s still an awkward  bulge to conceal, like the one in my pants.

My review is: this isn’t practical, even for highly trained assassins. You have to be close enough to your victim to touch them, there’s the risk of injuring yourself, it’s harder to hide than a normal dagger, and you can’t take it off unless you’ve got a few minutes to spare. Still, ask yourself, “Who’s going to mess with someone who’s strapped weapons to their wrists?” Sane people know not to get too close to crazy people.

I was hoping to score a white Assassin’s Creed hoodie to complete the costume, but I’ll have to make other arrangements.

Borderlands 2: Johnny Mechromancer

The first downloadable character for Borderlands 2 was Gaige, the Mechromancer, a fifteen-year-old girl who can summon a robot to fight for her.

This had the immediate effect of everyone switching characters, leading to all-mechromancer groups in multiplayer co-op, just like the Mists of Pandara expansion for WoW led to a glut of Pandas. There’s nothing particularly wrong with that, I suppose, aside from wondering who’s robot was who’s.

The most alarming change, however, was with the voice acting. Video games are a male-dominated affair, outside and within. Men and boys alike are use to playing as men. Gaige’s character is a little girl. When she takes damage, you’re punished with a girl’s bloodcurdling scream of agony. What’s supposed to be a shooter is now a horror game. The worst is when she’s lit on fire. You don’t get the same reaction when a male character is hurt. He usually just grunts, like he’s trying to squeeze out a particularly wide log. It’s unnerving.

The other weird aspect of the character is playing as an under-aged girl. It’s nothing new, really. There’s even Lilith and Maya in the game series as playable female characters, but they’re essentially super models playing at guns. They’re not necessarily over-sexualized feminine characters, but they’re definitely made to be gentle on the eyes. It’s always been that way in games. Unless you’re customizing your own character, you’re going to be playing as a “bimbo” if you choose a female character.

Like I said, games are male-dominated, especially shooters. Why then, are so many people flocking to play as little girl when there’s three male characters out of five to choose from? Because it’s awesome?

Borderlands: Endgame

Having reach level 30, I found myself at the end of the game. I tried to solo The Warrior, to no avail. I’d often find myself flung into a pit of lava, or worse by the shockwaves he gives off. I also did some quick calculations about the amount of damage I can deal out vs. the number of bullets I have vs. his health bar, and it didn’t add up. Distraught, I went on other adventures, then round back to try again by jumping on someone else’s game. They’d already killed the Warrior, and were just wasting time racking up points with the random enemies who show up. Plus, it was completely glitchy. I could barely move my character, and the ground was littered with weapons, indicating that they’d spent quite some time doing this. I picked up about twenty items and the floor was still carpeted. Now I find that I’m expected to repeat the whole process over again at a higher level, and I don’t know if I want to. The game seemed a little short, to be honest. Now I hear there’s an expansion pack coming out next week already, which tells me the developers think the same way I do.

Mickey VS. Minnie

While at Toys’R’Us, trying to come up with ideas for Christmas gifts, I noticed an entire rack devoted exclusively to Minnie Mouse. She had cars, dolls, bedtime dolls, talking dolls, play sets, you name it. Mickey was nowhere in sight.

Then it hit me: Minnie Mouse doesn’t need Mickey Mouse. She’s the one enduring female character that’s has never shown any inclination to be attached to her significant other. She’s been around since Steamboat Willie, which first popularized Mickey Mouse. There’s nothing particularly interesting about her. She’s essentially just Mickey Mouse with a bow on her head and some eyelashes, and she’s never starred in her own cartoon. She’s a background character at best, but she’s just as well known as Mickey Mouse the world over for decades upon decades.

What’s her deal with Mickey anyway? Are they even lovers? Have they ever even gone on a date? Mickey and Minnie seem to have the same relationship as Jerry Seinfeld and Elaine. They dated once, and now they’re just friends. They’re never going to get married.

Looking at her toys, though, it looks like she’s the one who’s got her life together. You won’t see Mickey Mouse appearing in anything other than Mickey Mouse’s Clubhouse. On that show, Minnie Mouse opened her own Bow-tique, (because it sells bows) and it’s a hit. Mickey, on the other hand, has no job. He seems to be living off the residuals of his past appearances and dark magic. In other words, Minnie Mouse is a successful designer and entrepreneur, and Mickey is a bum.

More than that, Mickey is a dark wizard. We’ve previously learnt that Mickey is a practitioner of the arcane arts from Fantasia, and in Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, he can summon the Clubhouse into being by using magic words. He even tries to involve children in his worship of Satan by having them say the words along with him. Toodles, his all-purpose tool, is clearly magic as well. That’s why he’s the mascot for the, “Magic Kingdom.” That’s why Mickey refuses to work, or marry. Contributing to society, or stepping foot inside a church would offend his Dark Lord.

Borderlands 2: The Wasteland

It is pretty obvious to me that everyone playing Borderlands 2 is better at it than I am, or else they’re grinding through it at an incredible rate for no apparent reason. Every RPG or MMORPG has these people who have an insatiable desire to shell out their hard earned money for a game and then max their level in the shortest time possible. The record for Borderlands 2 is apparently 14 hours or so. Personally, I don’t even understand those people. It’s not like it’s a game like Galaga, where all you’re doing is shooting an endless swarm of bad guys. You’re supposed to explore, look for loot, and expand the plot.

The Mechamancer expansion character only dropped a couple of days ago, and last night I was already running with a level 25. They dropped in on my open party, and I had not fucking clue what was going on. I was firing away at a swarm of robots, and there was no way to distinguish one from another in the firefight.

When people drop in unannounced, and then proceed to barrel through the enemies standing before you on the way to the mission point, without stopping to fight any of those enemies, and leaving you to challenge them alone, I don’t know what to think. Yes, we’re suppose to be looking for the goal, but it’s not football where you’re expected to duck, dive, drip, dodge and duck around them. You’re supposed to fight them head-on. Plus anyone dying has to return to the spawn point and wade through that mess a second, third, or fourth time. I also have no idea what the etiquette on team-healing is either. I’m a run and gunner, but when I see a team mate down, I want to heal them. I also don’t want to die, and if there’s a badass trying to eliminate us both, I don’t know whether it’s better to fight or heal. I usually end up being killed during the process, and not getting a reciprocated heal. It’s like oral sex. 

Borderlands 2: Glitches

After Sanctuary becomes airborne, you can essentially jump off the side to your death. There’s areas, however, that look as if you’re supposed to jump down and explore. There’s even an intractable safe off the side of a ledge, but there’s no way back up once you jump down. Seemingly solid walls on the side are actually intangible, and you can move through them. Except pieces of the ground in the undermap are as well, and you can fall to your death. I’d explore it more, but I don’t want to get with the respawn penalties.

I was thinking philosophically about respawns in Borderlands 2, and how they fit into the plot. Without spoilers, there’s areas where the game runs into the Final Fantasy VII problem, i.e., “Why doesn’t Cloud use a Phoenix Down on Aeris?” Death is used for it’s inherent poignancy, but what does death mean in a game where death curable? The whole plot to the game is to kill Handsome Jack, who runs the Hyperion corporation. Hyperion also owns and operates all the respawn nodes around Pandora. Meaning, every time you die, you’re paying Handsome Jack to come back to life. Which would answer the question, “Why won’t Jack turn off the nodes, and leave you dead?” Because you’re making him rich. If you actually succeed in killing Jack, however, there’s nothing stopping him from coming back to life, since he owns the means to everyone’s reincarnation. You’d have to take down the entire Hyperion corporation, which would mean the next time you die, you’d die.

Borederlands 2: Electric Boogaloo

Borderlands 2, like any game out for the 360, has a long list of Achievements. Some are hard to come by, and others are ridiculously easy.

Here’s some of the most retarded:

1. Up High, Down Low

   Gave Claptrap a high five

   15 UNLOCKED ON 09/10/2012

The description give you all the details you need to know. There’s a, “Y,” button option when you try to talk to Claptrap, and he’ll encourage you to, “High-Five,” him. You melee his hand, and you get an Achievement. Why? Because coming up for Achievements for a game is hard work.

Well That Was Easy

Completed the mission "Shoot This Guy in the Face"

10 UNLOCKED ON 09/10/2012

While doing a story mission in Slab territory, I noticed the, “!” on my radar. I went up to a bandit called, “Shooty McFace,” who asked me to shoot him in the face. I obliged and got this Achievement. This was also a mission as well, which came with rewards.

Sugar Daddy

Tipped Moxxi $10,000

10 UNLOCKED ON 02/10/2012

This Achievement is easy, as you accumulate tonnes of money in the game with not enough to spend it on. Buying guns at the vending machines is kind of pointless when you can find a new gun every two minutes. It also eludes to you being able to collect Moxxi’s, “Good Touch,” and, “Bad Touch,” two SMGs. One is essentially a vibrator, with the added bonus of turning your XBox controller into a factual vibrator. Like, you can actually masturbate with it… Not that I have….

Tribute To A Vault Hunter

Got an item from Michael Mamaril

15 UNLOCKED ON 02/10/2012

This Achievement is easy to get. You simply have to find Michael and take a freely offered item from him. There’s a lot of back story to this seemingly random NPC. He was a Boderlands fanatic in real life who died of cancer, and they put him in the game. So it’s like he’s haunting you from beyond the grave. It wouldn’t be creepy if he didn’t suddenly appear and then vanish, unlike other NPCs. I found him in the headquarters in the Sanctuary after a story mission while working with a full group online. I don’t know if one of those reasons made him spawn, or if he’ll ever respawn inside the same game again.

October is Every Month

October is:

Fire Safety Month. Not only is it Fire Safety Month, but contained within Fire Safety Month is Fire Safety Week. It’s Inception.

Breast Cancer Awareness Month

Energy Awareness Month

Oktober Fest

The Month of the Holy Rosary

‘Jinx’ Month

It’s also the eighth month instead of the tenth on ancient calendars.

In summation: October is every month and that’s retarded. Special interest groups need to stop fucking around with their own ad campaigns. You have to pick one thing for October to be, and keep it that way. Nobody calls February, “Confederate Remembrance Month,” because it’s, “Black History Month.” Anyone trying to mess with that is automatically labelled a racist, and for good reason. Imagine the political backlash is a Governor tried to label February, “Cotton Candy Month.” Yes, cotton candy is delicious, but it’s, Black History Month. Everyone knows that. Plus February is a terrible month to enjoy cotton candy.

Same deal for October. Does it really need to be more than one thing? Breast Cancer Awareness is a serious issue affecting millions of people, but so is burning to death. Plus fire was here first. I’m pretty sure fire would win in an actual fight with cancer. In fact, fuck both of those issues. They’re both downers. Months shouldn’t be dedicated to depressing things, otherwise you’re spending at least 1/12 of your life feeling sad. I say October is now Tits and Explosions Month. It combines the appealing parts of Breast Cancer an Fire Safety in a way that’s fun for kids and adults at the same time.

Paranatural

Chapter One

    “What makes me qualified to be on your show? I can see ghosts…” a long, awkward pause followed as Evan Baker stared into the camera. “I don’t know what else you’d want from me. I see ghosts.”
    Bill Lendon hit pause on the TV and carelessly set the remote down on his spacious desk with a clunk. The image of Evan taken in his dimply lit parent’s basement froze on the flastscreen in an unflattering expression with his mouth agape. Leaning far back in his chair, Bill kicked his one leg up over his other knee and rested it there and he placed his fingertips of his right hand against his jaw thoughtfully.
    Evan grinned sheepishly at the man behind his desk. “Do you want to know what I think about this tape?” he asked in the rushed manner Evan had become accustomed to since meeting him. “I think its crap.”
    It was hardly the reaction Evan had been expecting. After all, his audition tape had landed him a trip out to L.A. to meet with the reality TV producer in private. It had come as a shock to him when he received the invitation not three days prior. He scarcely remembered even sending the video, which he had made with low expectations in mind. One of his followers in his chat group had suggested  he submit after hearing about the casting call for a new reality series that was supposed to be premièring in the fall.
    Thinking that he was supposed to respond, but not knowing what he was going to say in his defence, Evan opened his mouth, “Well I…”
    Bill cut him off, “When people turn on their Tvs, they want to see someone exciting. Someone who can command a presence. What do you think they’d think when they see you?”  he gestured vaguely at Evan in what might have been disgust. “I mean you come in here all dressed in black like you’re either a wannabe Johnny Cash, or some Emo kid. You look like you’ve never ever seen the sunlight. I have a stack of tapes like this,” he held his hands apart, “of people who look just like you, making all these bullshit claims. What’s your claim to fame? What do you have on them? Nothing! Just look at this,” he reached out and opened a folder on his laptop. “You’re a blogger? Wow, that’s still a thing? And with what, 20,000 followers? My cat has a twitter feed with that many followers. I’m not even making that up. I make my assistant do it. I read your blog, like, before you came in here. If someone sent me a script with that many grammatical errors I’d have them fired.”
    “Well I don’t really have an editor,” Evan coughed into his hand.
    Bill reached into his desk and pulled out a can of antibacterial air fresher and sprayed it in Evan’s direction a couple times. “Do you know who we had lined up for this show, before she bailed? Those plumber psychics. Their contract was supposed to be up in June and we could have nabbed them, but they got a new deal inked and we were left out in the cold. Now I’m here, scrambling to fill the spaces, and I’m left with few options. I wanted Celebrity names. That’s Celebrity with a big, ‘C,’ and I got little ‘c’s instead. Do you know how many years I’ve been doing this kind of crap? I basically invented reality TV back before 9/11. Don’t listen to that prick over on the big network that will remain nameless in these halls saying that he’s the genius behind, ‘Big Eye.’ That was my idea to steal that show from Sweden and he stole it from me,“ he sighed. Getting up from his chair, he paced over to his window looking out at a smog-shrouded Hollywood sign. “So I got stuck here on cable making shows with genetic defects and failed rap acts trying to bump uglies. I’ve had people in here that are so far down the food chain that I had to have the whole place disinfected. Fact is though, those are the kind of people who make money. Make me money. You,” he turned around sharply and pointed a finger at him, “you don’t look like you’re going to make me money. Do you even have a job?” he asked in disbelief.
    “Well there’s my blog,” Evan insisted.
    “That’s not a job!” Bill laughed. “That doesn’t pay for the electricity. Christ, look at your tape again,” picking up the remote, he rewound the the video and played it from the beginning.
    “Hi, my name’s Evan…. Uhm, I heard you were auditioning for this new show about the paranormal and ghosts, and all that, and you were looking for experts in the field. What makes me qualified to be on your show? I can see ghosts….”
    Bill paused it again in disgust. “The video is only like fifteen seconds long,” he exaggerated. “Did you think this was going to win me over? I’m looking to fill twenty-two episodes and you give me this? You’re on screen for like ten seconds and you’re putting me to sleep. Look!” he walked over to the fifty-inch plasma screen and pointed to a section of Evan’s face. “Is this a zit? You’re like thirty years old!” Evan was actually twenty-five, but he chose not to correct him. “There’s only so much make-up artists can do. You remember Shaquifwa on, ‘Ho for a Pimp?’ That’s how she looked after forty minutes in the chair.”

Paranatural

Chapter One

    “What makes me qualified to be on your show? I can see ghosts…” a long, awkward pause followed as Evan Baker stared into the camera. “I don’t know what else you’d want from me. I see ghosts.”
    Bill Lendon hit pause on the TV and carelessly set the remote down on his spacious desk with a clunk. The image of Evan taken in his dimply lit parent’s basement froze on the flastscreen in an unflattering expression with his mouth agape. Leaning far back in his chair, Bill kicked his one leg up over his other knee and rested it there and he placed his fingertips of his right hand against his jaw thoughtfully.
    Evan grinned sheepishly at the man behind his desk. “Do you want to know what I think about this tape?” he asked in the rushed manner Evan had become accustomed to since meeting him. “I think its crap.”
    It was hardly the reaction Evan had been expecting. After all, his audition tape had landed him a trip out to L.A. to meet with the reality TV producer in private. It had come as a shock to him when he received the invitation not three days prior. He scarcely remembered even sending the video, which he had made with low expectations in mind. One of his followers in his chat group had suggested  he submit after hearing about the casting call for a new reality series that was supposed to be premièring in the fall.
    Thinking that he was supposed to respond, but not knowing what he was going to say in his defence, Evan opened his mouth, “Well I…”
    Bill cut him off, “When people turn on their Tvs, they want to see someone exciting. Someone who can command a presence. What do you think they’d think when they see you?”  he gestured vaguely at Evan in what might have been disgust. “I mean you come in here all dressed in black like you’re either a wannabe Johnny Cash, or some Emo kid. You look like you’ve never ever seen the sunlight. I have a stack of tapes like this,” he held his hands apart, “of people who look just like you, making all these bullshit claims. What’s your claim to fame? What do you have on them? Nothing! Just look at this,” he reached out and opened a folder on his laptop. “You’re a blogger? Wow, that’s still a thing? And with what, 20,000 followers? My cat has a twitter feed with that many followers. I’m not even making that up. I make my assistant do it. I read your blog, like, before you came in here. If someone sent me a script with that many grammatical errors I’d have them fired.”
    “Well I don’t really have an editor,” Evan coughed into his hand.
    Bill reached into his desk and pulled out a can of antibacterial air fresher and sprayed it in Evan’s direction a couple times. “Do you know who we had lined up for this show, before she bailed? Those plumber psychics. Their contract was supposed to be up in June and we could have nabbed them, but they got a new deal inked and we were left out in the cold. Now I’m here, scrambling to fill the spaces, and I’m left with few options. I wanted Celebrity names. That’s Celebrity with a big, ‘C,’ and I got little ‘c’s instead. Do you know how many years I’ve been doing this kind of crap? I basically invented reality TV back before 9/11. Don’t listen to that prick over on the big network that will remain nameless in these halls saying that he’s the genius behind, ‘Big Eye.’ That was my idea to steal that show from Sweden and he stole it from me,“ he sighed. Getting up from his chair, he paced over to his window looking out at a smog-shrouded Hollywood sign. “So I got stuck here on cable making shows with genetic defects and failed rap acts trying to bump uglies. I’ve had people in here that are so far down the food chain that I had to have the whole place disinfected. Fact is though, those are the kind of people who make money. Make me money. You,” he turned around sharply and pointed a finger at him, “you don’t look like you’re going to make me money. Do you even have a job?” he asked in disbelief.
    “Well there’s my blog,” Evan insisted.
    “That’s not a job!” Bill laughed. “That doesn’t pay for the electricity. Christ, look at your tape again,” picking up the remote, he rewound the the video and played it from the beginning.
    “Hi, my name’s Evan…. Uhm, I heard you were auditioning for this new show about the paranormal and ghosts, and all that, and you were looking for experts in the field. What makes me qualified to be on your show? I can see ghosts….”
    Bill paused it again in disgust. “The video is only like fifteen seconds long,” he exaggerated. “Did you think this was going to win me over? I’m looking to fill twenty-two episodes and you give me this? You’re on screen for like ten seconds and you’re putting me to sleep. Look!” he walked over to the fifty-inch plasma screen and pointed to a section of Evan’s face. “Is this a zit? You’re like thirty years old!” Evan was actually twenty-five, but he chose not to correct him. “There’s only so much make-up artists can do. You remember Shaquifwa on, ‘Ho for a Pimp?’ That’s how she looked after forty minutes in the chair.”