My Dirty Gutter Moment

There were hints along the way; evidence that I was about to cross a threshold that cannot be taken in reverse. A couple of years ago I pulled a muscle in my shoulder while adjusting a showerhead. Not long after that a twinge developed in my right knee whenever I walked up stairs. I began to notice that, left unshaven, my facial hair was more silver than brown. As my thoughts turned to bedtime, I began making judgement calls on parents that let their kids play outside after 8:30PM on a summer’s eve. Those children are so loud! Why aren’t they in bed?

Various clues of what was coming.

The threshold I didn’t see coming was being Old. Ancient, really. Less than two years from 50 and I crossed the line unexpectedly but with such clarity that my brain formed a simple two-word phrase to mark the occasion.

Running Jump

 It feels like I've been swirling a blog post around in my head forever but like anything swirling it hits an orbit far enough away that I forget about it. Then when the feeling swoops back close enough to my consciousness I start to wonder what I should write about. There's no shortage of historical events -- I have feelings and thoughts on things in the news, especially lately -- but I could write past things, my recent move, working entirely remotely, my trials and tribulations which may too private to share.

How about the Daylight Saving Time? What a pain! But I was kind of laid up with some kind of weird abdominal bug.

And I'm out of things to write.

One Last Thing Before the Apocalypse

As the world falls into this really weird rhythm of endless days and nights, where the calendar is merely a hint at the way things used to be, and the last of the food sits rotting in the sun, there's one thing that I desparately scribble out with a nub of a pencil.

One last bit of knowledge to convey to whatever remnants of humanity might one day stumble upon my barely-legible scrawl. Hopefully whomever finds it speaks in English.

I write: The Macbook charging cable sucks. Like, really it does. Susceptible to breakage, looks weird, attractive to kittens that like to chew on things. If you find one in the wasteland, just leave it. You're better off.

I wish to convey additional knowledge to the inheritors of our failure: P.S. Wireless earbuds. Bad idea all-round.

Staring into the middle distance, I slump forward and hit the ground at an uncomfortable angle then die.

Do Kids Nowadays Care About Graphics?

Short answer with no evidence or even an anecdote: No.

Longer answer with anecdotal evidence:

My 11-year old son is currently playing 1997's Dungeon Keeper and 2000's Nox. I picked up both when Electronic Arts' Origin service had "on the house" games and ever since my Alienware's graphics card bit the dust 5 years ago these are the kinds of games that run best. Objectively, put against the current generation of graphics these two games are terrible to look at, Dungeon Keeper's first-person mode is particularly hard to look at. Everything is smeared, blocky, stretched even with the resolution jacked to 640x480:

Source: Moby Games

Nox fairs slightly better, but the graphics -- if I may drag out an old phrase and utter it once more -- are shit.

Finishing a Book

Since we moved, my commute to/from work boiled down to a 25 minute drive (each way) from a solid 90 minute to/from commute that involved walking and public transit (and long ferry ride on Mondays and Fridays) I havent't finished reading a book. That's more than two years!

It wasn't unusual for me to finish multiple books in a week and listen to 10 or more podcast episodes. Like I said, I haven't finished a book in a long time, but also my podcast listening has dramatically dropped off. Not just the number of podcasts I listen to. Worse than that it's a struggle to find time to even listen to a whole episode before the next one is availale.

All of the above taken into account I'm finally about to finish a book: Bill Bryson's "At Home."

Now, I will stop writing this to finish it.

Iron Man, Mark III (from Hot Toys and Sideshow Collectibles)

In my mind a good indicator of a high-quality collectible -- *ahem* action figure -- is that I start getting ideas how the makers could have added even more layers, more detail to a piece that is already packed with detail. In the case of Iron Man, Mark III (from Hot Toys and Sideshow Collectibles), I wish there was a button to press for catch phrases from Capcom fighting games. It seems a perfect fit, especially given the fact the figure is already wired for lights in four locations. Why not a sound chip to spout, "Proton CANNON!"?

Makes me wonder if there's an after-market supplier that I could contact to install such a thing. I'd even settle for a sound chip in the large base that ships with the figure.

The attention to detail actually starts with the box Iron Man is packed into. And for the price tag of $309.99 USD ($405.00 CAN) that should be expected but as much as I like boxes, the showpiece, of course, is Iron Man.

No assembly required! Just free the figure from the deftly cut styrofoam liner, remove the copious bits of protective plastic and foam, and enjoy!

Well, there is some assembly necessary if you want the full effect of the lights. The package includes the necessary "button" batteries to install for the four light-up locations: visor (accessed through the forehead), the hands (batteries installed in the biceps); and the chest (located in the back). Each of these compartments are secured by a screwed-down hatch.

The included mini screwdriver is, in a word, terrible. This is a deluxe figure so why not include a screwdriver that will actually get the job done? The mini screwdriver slips easily when it use thereby damaging the heads of the screws. In the long run this will mean the battery hatches will become wholly inaccessible.

Non-Fiction

Up until recently, my forays into non-fiction were almost entirely restricted to university writing assignments.

Only one example springs to mind. I read a biography of Ludwig II of Bavaria after finishing Gabriel Knight II: The Beast Within.

Now it's almost all non-fiction. I just finished up "Tesla: Inventor of the Electrical Age" and prior to that it was "Big Bang: The Origin Of The Universe." Now, I'm reading "L.A. Noir: The Struggle for the Soul of America's Most Seductive City" which has so far been fascinating.

I've probably recounted here or elsewhere my love of the stories of Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler and their "hard boiled" detective fiction, the multitude of radio dramas that rolled out from the 1930's and 1940's, and Rockstar's "L.A. Noire" game from 2011. No doubt this has affected my enjoyment of "L.A. Noir" -- specifically, I'm probably enjoying it more than most.

The author, John Buntin, chronicles the parallel rise of gangster Mickey Cohen and (eventual) LA Police Chief, William Parker, but there's so much more going on in the story of life in Los Angeles' earlier years. Through the Great Depression, during the onset of World War II and it's aftermath, Los Angeles, as conjured in my imagination, seems like it was always about 48 hours from outright chaos and societal collapse.

It's hard for me to think that this is no longer the case.

Every time I've been in LA -- mostly for E3 -- it always felt like it was on the verge of unraveling. Maybe it's the fact downtown is devoid of people after normal working hours or the dust; a perfume of asphalt, concrete, and car exhaust; those burrito places that open walk-in churches when the sun goes down. There's just something desperate about the place.

I realize that it's quite possible my brain has just imprinted the "hard boiled" sensibility on the entire place, so maybe that feeling will be inescapable no matter what I do, but "L.A. Noir" isn't helping dissuade my assessment of the place.

Another thing the book does -- at least for me and it's probably inadvertent -- is draw parallels between the way the Los Angeles police operated in terms of wire tapping and the current operation of the US's National Security Agency. As I wrote previously, it's very good read so far!