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!

Good ol' Edgar A. Poe

After reading finally Hemmingway's "The Old Man and the Sea" then plowing through Jonathan Harvey's "The Girl Who Just Appeared" I thought it was high time that I finally read some Edgar Allan Poe because I read somewhere that he single-handedly invented the "Detective Fiction" genre, which is one of my favourite genres..

C. August Dupin as he

appeared in 1999's

"League of Extraordinary

Gentlemen."

Previously my exposure to Poe went as far as:

1. Oh yeah, he's the writer of "The Tell-Tale Heart." (Never read it, but referenced heavily in an early episode of The Simpsons.)
2. The Simpson's "Treehouse of Horror" (Season 2) segment "The Raven."
3. (Without realizing it at the time) C. Auguste Dupin's guest spot in 1999's "League of Extraordinary Gentlemen" written by Alan Moore.

And that is the totality of my exposure to Edgar Alan Poe, unless you take into account the numerous authors so obviously inspired/influenced by Poe, most notably Sherlock Holmes creator Arthur Conan Doyle.

So, I grabbed a copy of The Modern Library's collection of stories that focuses on the exploits of Dupin, "The Murders in the Rue Morgue: The Dupin Tales." The book contains three stories and I've only finished reading "The Murders in the Rue Morgue" but I'd say I'm a fan, even if the opening paragraphs are dense with lots of big words it felt like my brain was out of shape the same way a 40-year old sprints up a couple of flights of stairs then has stop to catch his breath and, possibly, throw-up before walking the rest of the way at a staid pace more in line with his age and physical prowess.

Pretender No More: E3 2014

Although I'd felt brief impressions of being a pretender – someone that did not belong, someone that shouldn't be there but had somehow gotten away with a giant con – prior to attending my first production meeting, it wasn't until the introductions and initial briefing were underway that the word "fraud" fully formed in my mind.

Maybe the best way I can describe it...

It could be like the feeling you might have if every day you wished you could visit Paris. Years go by and you think the dream of getting to Paris will never be realized. Then one morning you groggily shake off the remnants of last night's Indian food and lager and realize you're standing on the inexplicably-named Avenue Franklin Delano Roosevelt outside Palais de la Decouverte, a stone's throw from La Seine and the Eiffel Tower. To be fair, it would be a hell of a throw to hit the Eiffel Tower from Palais de La Decouverte but that's really beside the point: You're suddenly in Paris!

Did you earn that trip? Deserve it? Did you pay your dues? Work all those extras at a job that pays just enough so you could sock away a few dollars from every pay stub to make your dream a reality? Did you hunt for the best deals on a flight? Figure out where to stay so you could stretch each dollar (or franc or Euro or whatever) to it's fullest?

In my brain, all that preparation stuff – those extra hours, that extra work, all that writing over the course of 15 years with The Armchair Empire – zipped out of my head and I was left with the feeling I imagine most murders feel at some point when they're in large crowds. Someone out there, someone close to you, is about to stand up and, with a Phoenix Wright flourish, call attention to the fact that you are, in fact, a killer.

So, what was this production meeting I'd conned myself into? Where had I arrived that I felt like I didn't deserve to be there?