Halloween is an interesting holiday. I am aware of many of the cultural underpinings of the day. I refer here to the modern execution.
I can certainly understand the enthusiasm children have for the day. Costumes and candy are a heady combination when you are ten years old.
As a teen, you have a chance to stretch your imagination and attempt the same mayhem your older brother did, which he learned from his friend's older brother, who learned it from that drunken uncle of his... What can I say? The teenage imagination thinks it is far more clever than it actually is.
As one approaches twenty, things just get sad. Seeing that guy -- the one who hung around the high school a bit longer than any one was comfortable -- come knocking on your door saying "trick or treat..." Well, you can almost see him dying a bit inside as he says it.
Once twenty-five hits, or thirty is within sight, things change. Halloween almost becomes an excuse for debauchery. Just look at the costume choices for women. Sexy nurse, sexy witch, sexy devil, schoolgirl (that last one is all for weevil). Bless them all, it is wonderful, especially seeing these costume choices in effect on a college campus. When the cute teacher's aide decides to show up dressed as a magician's assistant -- well, I was glad the day was just calculus review. No new math information would have been retained.
I just wouldn't be Boom without a shot across the bow at the revelers, however.
Today on campus I noticed no fewer than eight people dressed as the Joker. Every single one dressed as the most recent film iteration. Most of them poorly done. I can relate to the enthusiasm over the character. As I mentioned, I enjoyed the movie quite a bit. Honestly, though, I knew months ago that far too many people would latch on to the character for Halloween. There was a single, bright spot of variation, however. I had to run some errands around town, and bumped into a great costume. Green hair, white makeup, black circles around his eyes... nurse uniform. The costume made me smile.
I would imagine today tends to make bank employees nervous...
Friday, October 31, 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Venerable Bede's Trout Farm and Rhinoplasty Clinic
I would say that in order to understand that title, you had to be there. I was there, and it seems every bit as ridiculous to me as it does to you.
Friday night I was surprised with tickets to see an improv comedy show. The show was "An Evening with Colin and Brad." The show surpassed my expectations. People who have seen "Whose Line" will be familiar with a lot of the elements of the show. We saw familiar games from television in considerably extended form. On "Whose Line," bits seldom last much longer than five minutes. Friday, each bit lasted at least twenty minutes.
Being a college venue, the audience participation came across as a bit more esoteric than the performers were used to. When asked to provide a foreign country, I'm sure the performers were expecting China, France, and the like. I heard suggestions of East Timor and Belgian Congo, in addition to the final decision of Djibouti. One game in particular provided some unusual suggestions.
Brad was the suspect in an unusual crime, the details of which he was not aware. Colin was the detective, dropping broad hints and clues in order to get Brad to confess. The crime in question was provided entirely by audience suggestions. While wearing wooden clogs and a plaid alpacca jumpsuit in Inchileum, at Venerable Bede's Trout Farm and Rhinoplasty Clinic, Brad Sherwood used a feather boa to clip the nose hairs of his neighbor's orangutan without a permit. Like I said, I was there and it doesn't make any sense to me.
It was incredibly funny, though. I will certainly keep an eye out for a return engagement.
Friday night I was surprised with tickets to see an improv comedy show. The show was "An Evening with Colin and Brad." The show surpassed my expectations. People who have seen "Whose Line" will be familiar with a lot of the elements of the show. We saw familiar games from television in considerably extended form. On "Whose Line," bits seldom last much longer than five minutes. Friday, each bit lasted at least twenty minutes.
Being a college venue, the audience participation came across as a bit more esoteric than the performers were used to. When asked to provide a foreign country, I'm sure the performers were expecting China, France, and the like. I heard suggestions of East Timor and Belgian Congo, in addition to the final decision of Djibouti. One game in particular provided some unusual suggestions.
Brad was the suspect in an unusual crime, the details of which he was not aware. Colin was the detective, dropping broad hints and clues in order to get Brad to confess. The crime in question was provided entirely by audience suggestions. While wearing wooden clogs and a plaid alpacca jumpsuit in Inchileum, at Venerable Bede's Trout Farm and Rhinoplasty Clinic, Brad Sherwood used a feather boa to clip the nose hairs of his neighbor's orangutan without a permit. Like I said, I was there and it doesn't make any sense to me.
It was incredibly funny, though. I will certainly keep an eye out for a return engagement.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
I Really, Strongly Dislike People
Big surprise in that title, yes? I suppose there might be some out there who desire a bit of clarification.
There seems to be special brand of stupid in the Spokane air, lately. In the past thirty hours I have been in no fewer than eight near-miss accidents. They seem to occur in pairs. And parking lots seem to be a major contributing factor.
Yesterday: Whilst pulling in to the campus parking lot, I was required to merge from my access point into a sort of arterial (if such a thing exists) for the lot. More appropriately, others were required to merge with my traffic flow. I reason thusly: The other guys have a yield sign, whereas I do not. Two consecutive drivers decided that said yield sign must apply to everyone but them. They breeze on through without even slowing down. In the space of about two seconds I almost hit two cars. Fun.
After class yesterday: I was walking to my car and almost run down by someone who decided doing 40+ in a parking lot would be a good idea. After changing my underwear and getting in my car, a different person decided the previous driver had stumbled upon the greatest of all ideas. Exceeding 40 mph in a parking lot was a grand plan, worthy of emulation. After stopping short to avoid this higher-education cannonball, I was nervously on my way home.
Last night: I had to pick my sister up from an appointment of some sort. I don't recall what. Driving up Division (first mistake, I realize) exposed my flank to a pair of drivers who must have determined that exiting the fast food drive-through gave them right-of way.
This morning: It was a carbon-copy repeat of yesterday morning. What the hell? These people are college students, so it should be safe to assume they know how to read--at least at a basic (it was so tempting to use "fundamental" here) level. If they can't read, I would hope they have a basic understanding of shape recognition.
To my great relief, no collisions occurred. Though not for lack of opportunity.
Maybe I'm giving people too much credit with even the basic assumptions of competence. Perhaps it is safer to assume every other person, especially every other driver, has the intelligence of a carrot.
There seems to be special brand of stupid in the Spokane air, lately. In the past thirty hours I have been in no fewer than eight near-miss accidents. They seem to occur in pairs. And parking lots seem to be a major contributing factor.
Yesterday: Whilst pulling in to the campus parking lot, I was required to merge from my access point into a sort of arterial (if such a thing exists) for the lot. More appropriately, others were required to merge with my traffic flow. I reason thusly: The other guys have a yield sign, whereas I do not. Two consecutive drivers decided that said yield sign must apply to everyone but them. They breeze on through without even slowing down. In the space of about two seconds I almost hit two cars. Fun.
After class yesterday: I was walking to my car and almost run down by someone who decided doing 40+ in a parking lot would be a good idea. After changing my underwear and getting in my car, a different person decided the previous driver had stumbled upon the greatest of all ideas. Exceeding 40 mph in a parking lot was a grand plan, worthy of emulation. After stopping short to avoid this higher-education cannonball, I was nervously on my way home.
Last night: I had to pick my sister up from an appointment of some sort. I don't recall what. Driving up Division (first mistake, I realize) exposed my flank to a pair of drivers who must have determined that exiting the fast food drive-through gave them right-of way.
This morning: It was a carbon-copy repeat of yesterday morning. What the hell? These people are college students, so it should be safe to assume they know how to read--at least at a basic (it was so tempting to use "fundamental" here) level. If they can't read, I would hope they have a basic understanding of shape recognition.
To my great relief, no collisions occurred. Though not for lack of opportunity.
Maybe I'm giving people too much credit with even the basic assumptions of competence. Perhaps it is safer to assume every other person, especially every other driver, has the intelligence of a carrot.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Not an Engouraging Term
I have noticed a sort of apologist phrase used for describing bad movies. Summer "blockbusters" tend to get saddled with this label more that other films. That term is "mindless popcorn flick." I think I understand the intent behind the phrase. The movie does not have aspirations for high art, the filmmakers just wanted to make shit explode for an hour and a half. The phrase does not fill me with confidence, however. In fact, any hopes I may have had for the movie tend to drain away rather quickly.
Telling me that in order to achieve the full experience something has to offer, I have to suspend cognitive function makes me wonder why I am encouraged to pay money for the experience at all. Now, there are plenty of movies I have enjoyed that could possibly be considered "mindless." These movies are usually quite forgettable, though. The only one that comes to mind is Starship Troopers, and that may be because of my attachment to the book, rather than anything from the movie, itself.
To be fair, I do not go into movies such as Iron Man or Pineapple Express expecting Oscar-caliber cinema. What I do expect is a reason to remember the movie past the drive home. People tell me I should go into these "popcorn flicks" with no expectations. If I had no expectations, I would not be sitting in the theater. If I had no expectations, my interest could likely be measured with the same gauge.
There are exceptions. Usually, if I can borrow a video or see it on cable, I will give something a chance. I have no problem watching Shoot 'em Up on HBO. I even enjoyed the movie while it was on. Once it was over, I had no intention of inclination to ever see it again.
If I wanted to turn my mind off and enjoy something, there are plenty of options open to me that are free, or included in things I already pay for.
Telling me that in order to achieve the full experience something has to offer, I have to suspend cognitive function makes me wonder why I am encouraged to pay money for the experience at all. Now, there are plenty of movies I have enjoyed that could possibly be considered "mindless." These movies are usually quite forgettable, though. The only one that comes to mind is Starship Troopers, and that may be because of my attachment to the book, rather than anything from the movie, itself.
To be fair, I do not go into movies such as Iron Man or Pineapple Express expecting Oscar-caliber cinema. What I do expect is a reason to remember the movie past the drive home. People tell me I should go into these "popcorn flicks" with no expectations. If I had no expectations, I would not be sitting in the theater. If I had no expectations, my interest could likely be measured with the same gauge.
There are exceptions. Usually, if I can borrow a video or see it on cable, I will give something a chance. I have no problem watching Shoot 'em Up on HBO. I even enjoyed the movie while it was on. Once it was over, I had no intention of inclination to ever see it again.
If I wanted to turn my mind off and enjoy something, there are plenty of options open to me that are free, or included in things I already pay for.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Ghost of Super Bowl Advertisments Past
Sports fans probably remember Terry Tate, Office Linebacker. For those who do not, Reebok started the ad campaign with the Super Bowl in 2003. For whatever reason, it didn't last very long.
Well, it seems Terry Tate is back. Stick with the video. The payoff is right at the end.
Well, it seems Terry Tate is back. Stick with the video. The payoff is right at the end.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Missing the Mark
Earlier this week, Weevil and his progeny (cool, a word that can be both singular and plural simultaneously) arrived at casa de Boom with a new music game. Rock Revolution.
The first thought was "fantastic. All involved enjoy Rock Band and Guitar Hero, so another music game should be fun."
This new offering is from Konami. These guys practically invented the genre. Guitar Freaks, Drum Mania, and Dance Dance Revolution pretty much laid the ground work for the monsters Guitar Hero and Rock Band would become. Things seemed promising. We were excited. We were hopeful. We were wrong.
First, the game is only available as a stand-alone game. The drum kit is not supposed to be available until November 11th. So, Konami is counting on the players of this game to have access to guitars and drums from other games. That's fine. I own way too many compatible guitar controllers, and one drum kit takes up plenty of space in the living room.
Relying on me to have access to other games in the genre, however, is also the game's downfall. If you expect me to already own another, similar product, you had better bring something new and interesting to the table. That, or be so in line with the other product that I can view yours as a sort of expansion pack. Rock Revolution does neither. At least half of the songs are already available in Rock Band or Guitar Hero, so there is very little new content. The game looks like it isn't quite finished. The note charts look slapped in, almost like they built everything else first, then tried to fit the note chart in. This design flaw becomes apparent as red notes are swallowed up by the predominantly red backgrounds.
The biggest flaw, however is the music itself. If I were making a music game, I would think to myself "self, whatever you do, make sure you don't fuck up the music." I don't think anyone had this thought in the entire development cycle for Rock Revolution. Sure, there are 40 songs on the disc, and every one of them is playable right away (good choice), but that's where the praise both begins and ends. Every single song on the disc is a cover. Rock Band and Guitar Hero learned their lesson, and focus on original masters as much as possible. Covers can be forgiven if they are good. These are not. Very few sound anything close to the original band, and the mix is usually horribly muddy. I commented to Weevil that I couldn't distinguish between any of the instruments. It was all just "sound" to me. Even while we were playing, I could seldom hear Weevil's drum tracks.
The final verdict is this: If you are planning on buing Rock Revolution, don't. Instead, might I reccomend sending your $50 to Boom's Triple B Fund. Your contribution will help ensure that not another weekend goes by for Boom without ample exposure to Beer, Beastie Boys, and Boobs. With your contribution, you will receive a picture of Boom simultaneously enjoying Beer, Beastie Boys, and Boobs. Periodic updates will follow as Boom tires other beers, listens to more Beastie Boys tracks, and enjoys more boobs.
Thank you for your support.
The first thought was "fantastic. All involved enjoy Rock Band and Guitar Hero, so another music game should be fun."
This new offering is from Konami. These guys practically invented the genre. Guitar Freaks, Drum Mania, and Dance Dance Revolution pretty much laid the ground work for the monsters Guitar Hero and Rock Band would become. Things seemed promising. We were excited. We were hopeful. We were wrong.
First, the game is only available as a stand-alone game. The drum kit is not supposed to be available until November 11th. So, Konami is counting on the players of this game to have access to guitars and drums from other games. That's fine. I own way too many compatible guitar controllers, and one drum kit takes up plenty of space in the living room.
Relying on me to have access to other games in the genre, however, is also the game's downfall. If you expect me to already own another, similar product, you had better bring something new and interesting to the table. That, or be so in line with the other product that I can view yours as a sort of expansion pack. Rock Revolution does neither. At least half of the songs are already available in Rock Band or Guitar Hero, so there is very little new content. The game looks like it isn't quite finished. The note charts look slapped in, almost like they built everything else first, then tried to fit the note chart in. This design flaw becomes apparent as red notes are swallowed up by the predominantly red backgrounds.
The biggest flaw, however is the music itself. If I were making a music game, I would think to myself "self, whatever you do, make sure you don't fuck up the music." I don't think anyone had this thought in the entire development cycle for Rock Revolution. Sure, there are 40 songs on the disc, and every one of them is playable right away (good choice), but that's where the praise both begins and ends. Every single song on the disc is a cover. Rock Band and Guitar Hero learned their lesson, and focus on original masters as much as possible. Covers can be forgiven if they are good. These are not. Very few sound anything close to the original band, and the mix is usually horribly muddy. I commented to Weevil that I couldn't distinguish between any of the instruments. It was all just "sound" to me. Even while we were playing, I could seldom hear Weevil's drum tracks.
The final verdict is this: If you are planning on buing Rock Revolution, don't. Instead, might I reccomend sending your $50 to Boom's Triple B Fund. Your contribution will help ensure that not another weekend goes by for Boom without ample exposure to Beer, Beastie Boys, and Boobs. With your contribution, you will receive a picture of Boom simultaneously enjoying Beer, Beastie Boys, and Boobs. Periodic updates will follow as Boom tires other beers, listens to more Beastie Boys tracks, and enjoys more boobs.
Thank you for your support.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
To the DeLorean!
The world of bureaucracy is a strange and confusing world.
Yesterday I got an letter in the mail. Apparently the county is having some difficulty in processing my voter registration. The sticking point is that the auditors cannot read my address.
Let me say that again. I got a letter in the mail. Sent regular post. The letter said my registration couldn't be processed since my address was illegible. This was not my registration form stamped with "return to sender." This was a brand new letter, with an address label that clearly displayed my address.
It gets better.
In order for my registration to be processed in time, I had to make sure the return form was postmarked no later than October 13th. Three days ago. Remember, I got this letter yesterday, the 15th. I sent my registration in months ago, and I got this letter yesterday.
I'm not sure if this is disenfranchisement, or simply bureaucratic incompetence. Either way, I'm not happy.
Yesterday I got an letter in the mail. Apparently the county is having some difficulty in processing my voter registration. The sticking point is that the auditors cannot read my address.
Let me say that again. I got a letter in the mail. Sent regular post. The letter said my registration couldn't be processed since my address was illegible. This was not my registration form stamped with "return to sender." This was a brand new letter, with an address label that clearly displayed my address.
It gets better.
In order for my registration to be processed in time, I had to make sure the return form was postmarked no later than October 13th. Three days ago. Remember, I got this letter yesterday, the 15th. I sent my registration in months ago, and I got this letter yesterday.
I'm not sure if this is disenfranchisement, or simply bureaucratic incompetence. Either way, I'm not happy.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Freud Would Be Proud
In doing some preliminary research for this post, I was surprised to find an utter lack of significant Japanese psychoanalysts. So Freud is the go-to name.
I managed to raise some eyebrows and color a few cheeks in Japanese class today. We were trying to piece together sentences about what we like to do and with whom. We were expected to come up with things along the lines of "I like playing video games with Weevil."
When my turn came up, I was asked "Who do you like to eat with?" (pay no attention to the atrocious grammar. Sentence structure tends to get sacrificed in the translation.) I thought I'd be cute and clever and respond "I like to eat with women." Sort of an open invitation for the ladies to join me for lunch. That was the plan.
After I gave my answer, there was some chuckling throughout the class. I was confused. Either people thought my answer was indeed cute and clever, or I had misspoke. Then the answer came. Someone pointed out that what I actually said was "I like to eat at women."
OK. Now I have to find a way to spin this in my favor. Instantly, the appropriate path became apparent.
"I stand by my answer," I said.
The chuckling turned into a lot of whispered conversation. Just about every woman in the class started blushing.
My thought: How you doin'?
I managed to raise some eyebrows and color a few cheeks in Japanese class today. We were trying to piece together sentences about what we like to do and with whom. We were expected to come up with things along the lines of "I like playing video games with Weevil."
When my turn came up, I was asked "Who do you like to eat with?" (pay no attention to the atrocious grammar. Sentence structure tends to get sacrificed in the translation.) I thought I'd be cute and clever and respond "I like to eat with women." Sort of an open invitation for the ladies to join me for lunch. That was the plan.
After I gave my answer, there was some chuckling throughout the class. I was confused. Either people thought my answer was indeed cute and clever, or I had misspoke. Then the answer came. Someone pointed out that what I actually said was "I like to eat at women."
OK. Now I have to find a way to spin this in my favor. Instantly, the appropriate path became apparent.
"I stand by my answer," I said.
The chuckling turned into a lot of whispered conversation. Just about every woman in the class started blushing.
My thought: How you doin'?
Friday, October 10, 2008
What to Do?
Tonight I find myself in an unfamiliar situation. For the first time since I've lived here, I will have the house to myself for the entire weekend. Both of my sisters are in Seattle until sometime Tuesday, giving me somewhere in the neighborhood of 96 hours by my self.
There are three categories of activity I can think of for this abundance of time.
1. Be the responsible sort. Catch up on homework, study for my Japanese and Chemistry tests that sit waiting in the early part of the upcoming week. Maybe do a bit of year-end yard work.
2. Be the mischievous sort. See what sort of trouble I can get into.
3. Be the shiftless layabout. Do as little as possible. Possibly just set myself in front of a TV and watch football all weekend, or in front of a computer and play video games.
To be honest, the second option doesn't seem likely. At 32 years old, I realize that if I were to set something on fire, cause a public nuisance, or systematically disassemble large quantities of something, I would be the one who would have to clean up the mess.
The first option is what I probably SHOULD do, but things will probably lean heavily toward the third option. At least until some point Sunday, then there will be a flurry of activity as I attempt to catch up with everything that should have been done.
There are three categories of activity I can think of for this abundance of time.
1. Be the responsible sort. Catch up on homework, study for my Japanese and Chemistry tests that sit waiting in the early part of the upcoming week. Maybe do a bit of year-end yard work.
2. Be the mischievous sort. See what sort of trouble I can get into.
3. Be the shiftless layabout. Do as little as possible. Possibly just set myself in front of a TV and watch football all weekend, or in front of a computer and play video games.
To be honest, the second option doesn't seem likely. At 32 years old, I realize that if I were to set something on fire, cause a public nuisance, or systematically disassemble large quantities of something, I would be the one who would have to clean up the mess.
The first option is what I probably SHOULD do, but things will probably lean heavily toward the third option. At least until some point Sunday, then there will be a flurry of activity as I attempt to catch up with everything that should have been done.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Sir Psycho Sexy
The Red Hot Chili Peppers and I have a bit of a love-hate relationship.
I love listening to their music.
I want to be able to play their songs in Rock Band.
I was excited about Blood Sugar Sex Magik being made available for download.
The Chili Peppers hate me.
OK, maybe not the Chili Peppers, but the programmers over at Harmonix and Electronic Arts are probably laughing their asses off right now.
"Guess what. Boom only got ONE star on 'They're Red Hot." ONE star! A blind chimp could get one star on accident!"
I need to learn how to play a funk riff if I am going to have any chance of playing this album.
I also need to learn how to spell "their." So frequently I transposed the "I" and "E." Shameful.
I love listening to their music.
I want to be able to play their songs in Rock Band.
I was excited about Blood Sugar Sex Magik being made available for download.
The Chili Peppers hate me.
OK, maybe not the Chili Peppers, but the programmers over at Harmonix and Electronic Arts are probably laughing their asses off right now.
"Guess what. Boom only got ONE star on 'They're Red Hot." ONE star! A blind chimp could get one star on accident!"
I need to learn how to play a funk riff if I am going to have any chance of playing this album.
I also need to learn how to spell "their." So frequently I transposed the "I" and "E." Shameful.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)