The Bimillennial Man

Another Great Advantage Of The Season

2012-01-25T10:31:00.000-05:00

Or, why I love winter . . . Reason # 12 (or something like that). I should really compile them all into a list one of these days.

But, anyway, as I was getting dressed to head out to work this morning, I was reminded once again about one of the many advantages of the cold, dark months of winter. The primary advantage for me, of course, is being able to work out excessively and not drip buckets full of sweat in the process.

But another convenience is getting dressed in the morning.

Nothing is easier than throwing on a sweater over some slacks or jeans, a big coat over that, and heading right out the door. In the winter time, no one is paying much attention to what you wear. And even if they are, you're wearing a big coat anyway -- so who's to know?

This is why I love it this time of year! Here in New York City, summer time is a pain in the ass in more ways than one. But one of the biggest peeves of mine is that too many people take the warmer months as an opportunity to model their wardrobes. It's kind of perverse how bad it gets here. On the subway, you get sized up from head to toe by pretty much every pair of eyes. Not because people are so nosy (although, insatiable human curiosity is certainly part of the blame), but because sitting on the subway waiting to arrive at your stop is supremely BORING! And, hey, checking out your fellow passengers is better than peering at that Citibank poster board for the umpteenth time, right? At least, that seems to be true of most MTA riders. I personally just read an e-book or close my eyes for the duration of my trip.

So in the summer time around here, everyone is in your business. And this means you must constantly be aware of what you're wearing. Mismatched color schemes or wrinkles can be covered up by a jacket during the colder months. But in the dog days of summer . . . you must step correct. Clothes need to be ironed and set -- and things need to MATCH!

I hate putting effort into the way I dress. It's the last thing I want to be doing. I hate clothes shopping, and even more clothes CHOOSING! But when you live in a big city where you are forced to interact daily with the press of humanity, there's a certain pressure to maintain at least a semblance of decorum about your person. For those of you who have the luxury of driving to and from work in the solitude and privacy of your own vehicle, you have my eternal envy. I'm pretty anti-social, so subway commuting in the big city is a major annoyance to me. And I have to do it EVERY. SINGLE. DAY! Twice, in fact. Both ways! And summer time only cranks up that exasperation factor by twenty.

But here in January? No one cares. Everyone's too cold to notice what you're wearing. It's too dark in the morning, anyway. And that's right where I belong. I thrive best in environs where people ignore one another and go about their own business, just as it should be. And here in NYC, only during this brief window of December to March can you achieve such a perfect anti-social balance in a city populated by 8 million narcissistic souls.

Also, winter clothes never need to be ironed. Hallelujah! As long as you fold them nicely, or set them on hangers the night before, sweaters stay perfect no matter what! And, of course, there's always the big overcoat to hide it all anyway, as I've already mentioned. This means that I spend all of three minutes in the morning getting dressed for work -- which is HUGE, don't you know? It's literally the least amount of effort you can possibly expend to look passably decent. And that suits me just fine, pardon the pun. :)

Chillin, Kicking Back A Few . . .

2012-01-22T23:47:00.002-05:00

And by "chillin" I of course mean that literally!

It seems a few of you were more interested in the part of the cruise where my wife and I hung out at the onboard ice bar, so I figured I'd talk about that unique experience some more.

Aboard the Norwegian "Epic," among the many different distractions like the casino and two (count 'em) 3-lane bowling alleys--not to mention all the other bars and themed cocktail lounges--is a Svedka-sponsored joint called the Ice Bar.

It's basically a huge walk-in freezer setup to resemble the inside of a glacier . . . or maybe Superman's Fortress of Solitude, you take your pick. After paying the cover charge, you're handed a pair of woolen gloves, shown a rack containing parkas lined with fake fur, and then led through the bunker-like door before having it slammed shut behind you and bolted.

Yes, bolted. I shit you not.

You then pass through a second metallic door and some plastic flaps and come upon this scene:

As you can see, it's quite an experience. Amid the ice-block seats and sculptures of Vikings and polar bears, you have a bar tended by one guy wearing a fur cap and surrounded by bottles of Svedka vodka.

The specialty drinks are presented on a menu atop the counter as you first enter the place. Since blue is my favorite color, I naturally went with the Cobalt Blue as my first drink. The image is a bit blurry above, I know, but the ingredients for this drink are: Inniskillin Icewine, Vodka, and Blue Curacao -- in case any of you playing at home would like to make your own.

All drinks were served in specially formed ice chalices, which serves double duty as a holder for your drink as well as chilling the contents. Ahhhh! I have to admit, it was quite delish! Even if I couldn't feel my lips or tongue beyond the third sip.

The poor bartender had to keep ducking in and out of the establishment as I could imagine standing in a 0-degree freezer for minutes on end is not a particular fun job to do. I myself lasted a whole fifteen minutes in the place before I, too, had to bow out. But I was wearing long pants and a button shirt at the time, while others there were in shorts and sandals. And even after we left for the night, I have to admit my fingers were still numb a half hour later from gripping those blasted icicle cups! Brrrrrr!

It was a fun experience, though. I would very much love to go to one again, particularly in the summer time here in New York. I have to research that, because I'm sure there must be one here in this big ole city. Something to keep in mind when those dog days of August arrive, eh?

Hope you all are having a great Sunday. I know I am -- my Giants are going to the SUPER BOWL!!! Fun for me, but most likely dull for the rest of the country not part of the Northeast right now. I mean, talk about a broken record! :)

But yes, life is good. Night, everybody!

A Study In Extremes

2012-01-22T01:32:00.000-05:00

So, I'm back. Miss me?

We just got in a few hours ago, and I'm pretty beat. But just wanted to say that this last week spent traipsing across the western portions of the Caribbean was a blast! Lisa and I had tons of fun, tons of sun . . . and tons of FOOD! Oink, oink!

As per usual upon returning from a cruise (and we've been on THREE now!), it's kinda hard getting used to not being waited on hand and foot, and to not having copious amounts of food and drink being shoved in your direction at all hours of the day and night. You'd be surprised how fast you can get accustomed to such kingly treatment.

But alas, all good things must come to an end. We're back in the mean ol' boogie-down Bronx tonight, and boy the differences could not be any more extreme! See, we left behind daily temps in the upper 70s and low 80s, with vistas such as these:

(That's the island of St. Martin, btw) . . . Only to have the airplane descend through the clouds over New York City today and reveal the following landscape spread out below us:

Wow! Talk about a slap in the face back to reality, eh? We went from perfect beach weather every day of the week, to 25 degrees and 5 inches of freshly fallen snow on the ground. Brrrr!

I took the pic above right through the airplane's window as we flew over Far Rockaway on approach to JFK airport. And once landed and through the terminal, was met with the most intense, meat-freezer like temperatures I've ever felt. And this from the guy who has an unnaturally high tolerance for the cold. Wow! Guess all that beach and Mai Tai drinks went to my head.

Although, it wasn't all warmth and sunshine while we were away. Our cruise ship had an onboard ice lounge, whereby patrons donned wool gloves and [faux] fur-lined parkas before stepping through a freezer door into a bar and lounge comprised almost entirely of ice! The thermometer hovered on or just above 0 degree Fahrenheit. How's that for COLD??? Lisa couldn't stand three minutes of it before having to bail. I myself loved it! I had three arctic-inspired beverages in specially designed ice-cube chalices. Yes, these were glasses made from frozen water! You could feel the bone-numbing coldness seep through the wool gloves, people! It was so cold that my lips became numb after just a few sips, and as a result some of my drink dribbled down my chin and onto the parka. What a clutz!

Still, I'll leave you with this blurry iPhone pic of me toasting the Icelandic gods of ice and . . . er, more ice. Skål, everybody!

Some of you on Facebook have already seen these pics, but I should be posting up a host of others shortly. In the meantime, I hope you all behaved in my absence, and that your week was a great one too! I'll try to update more deets about our trip in the days to come.

Rejection . . . And An Unexpected Surprise

2012-01-12T20:49:00.002-05:00

Ugh!

I've been so flustered lately (for reasons I won't go into here) that I've forgotten all about blogging. And then, I woke up this morning to find a rejection letter waiting in my inbox for one of my more recent short stories I submitted over a month ago. But that's the breaks, I guess. I'm in the middle of putting the finishing touches on yet another short story, so I'll find another place to submit the rejected one before finishing up that one.

And then I get back to work on the ongoing novel. Phew! The life of a part-time writer who still has to work a 9-5 every day, eh? Now you know why finding the right amount of time to blog can be so crucial. At least to me.

Anyway . . . I have some unexpected news. Remember back when I said I was contemplating my very first sci-fi convention in Boston next month? Sure you do, I mentioned it right here! Well, turns out that I won't be making it to that after all. Boooo! I know, right?

But the reason why, is . . .

We're going on a cruise! And I mean, as in right now!!! Well, okay, not RIGHT NOW, right now. But in less than two days! Holy crap, why such short notice? Well, I only just found out yesterday and needless to say I've been in a whirlwind trying to get things ready--including having to let my boss know I would need to take an immediate leave for all of next week. Whoa! Thank god I have an awesome boss, and that I am an awesome employee who usually never ever does things like this. So everything worked out fine and my leave request was quickly and painlessly granted.

But yes, we're going on a cruise. I won't go into the details of how this fortune came upon me, but suffice to say that my wife did all the planning and neglected to tell me until the last minute. Surprise, surprise! But as far as they go, this is a good one. If you recall, I was just mentioning how I thought I might plan a beach vacation sometime for later this month. Well, looks like I was beaten to the punch!

And where will we be going? Well, let me not get ahead of myself. First, this is the cruise ship we will be sailing on:

It's Norwegian Cruise Line's "Epic," one of their largest--if not THE largest--vessels in their fleet. In fact, it's so large that it belongs to a new class of cruise ship called "megaliners," and can carry as many as 4,100 passengers. *gulp* That's a helluva whole lot of people!

We'll be leaving from Miami this Saturday afternoon for a 7-day tour of the Eastern Caribbean:

As you can see by the map, our first stop will be in Philipsburg, Sint Maarten -- which is the Dutch sister country to the French colonized St. Martin, situated on the same island and to the north.

After spending a day there, we'll sail west nor'west to St. Thomas in the U.S. Virgin Islands.

And then our last port of call after that will be the Bahamas. I hear Norwegian has their own private island there, but if time allows I will endeavor to hit up Atlantis Resort and give it a quick look-see. Or maybe not. When in the Bahamas, I prefer more out of the way and laid back locales. Atlantis is a huge tourist trap, but as such it might be worth seeing what all the fuss is about.

In-between it all, we'll be spending approximately 3 days completely at sea. If you've ever been on a cruise before, you know that sea days can be brutally boring if your ship is lacking on the entertainment side and is too crowded. Luckily, I get the feeling we won't have to deal with too many large families and kids. I'm not aware of January being a terribly popular vacation period for families, especially given the fact that kids are still in school. I've never been on vacation during the winter months, though, only the summer. So needless to say I'm going to be thrilled if I don't have to deal with the usual HORDES of annoying, screaming kids and bratty, sulky teenagers. Oh, I so hope that is the case!

But, anyway, it's not like we won't have our distractions. Epic seems to be fully prepared for long sea days, as evidenced by their many on-board venues and amenities. I've only done a casual perusal of what's on offer, but here's what I found thus far:

Can you believe that? A huge outdoor theater, a water park, and--GASP!--is that a freaking bowling alley? Double-you Tee Eff? How big is this ship, anyway? Of course, we've been on huge cruise liners before, so none of this should really be all that surprising to me. Still, I seriously doubt we'll be left wanting for things to do. On top of this, I'll be bringing along my laptop to get some writing done.

As you can see our cabin has a balcony, so I plan on sitting out there in the morning hours and getting a few hundred words in before the sun is directly overhead and I head up to the weather deck for some lounging and reading!

Ah, what a life! I anticipate my most difficult decision will be whether or not to wear shorts or trousers to dinner . . . and, do I really need that second dessert?

Because, oh, it is SO ON! :)

Fear not, though. I'll be sure to take plenty of pics while we're gone, and perhaps even a vid or two. We'll be back a week from this Saturday, but I can't rule out a possible quick blog update or two in the interim. Personally, I wouldn't hold my breath on that if I were you. But stranger things have happened on our excursions . . .

In the meantime, you can peruse the Facebook photo albums from our previous two cruises here and here if it suits you. No pressure, though.

I hope you all have a pleasant weekend and following week. I'll try not to come back with too deep of a tan! :)

Take Away My Sun, Give Me The Snow!

2012-01-04T21:58:00.000-05:00

Over at the Economic Disconnect, my good friend GYSC relates the tale of why he dislikes winter. It's a great story, and you should head on over there to read it. I have to admit, he gives a pretty good reason for hating the season.

But me? I absolutely *love* the winter. If I had my way, I would live somewhere up in Maine or the frozen wilds of Canada, even. As far away from people as possible. I'm a recluse like that. Also, I find that the cold weather has this habit of civilizing people to the point where they behave like normal human beings. I suppose this comes from living in New York City all my life. Especially in the congested urban blight that is the Bronx where I grew up, where people practically live on top of each other and crime, as a result, is rampant. The only time this place gets decent is when the temps dip below freezing. Then everyone stays the hell indoors and learn to mind their business. Trust me, no one starts trouble around here in the months of January through March. It's glorious!

I was reminded of this very fact tonight as I was walking home. I took a shortcut through the city park across the street from my building, and not a single soul was out. I had the entire park to myself! The trees were bare and ghostly all around me--the air so crisp--and I could hear my own footfalls echo across the expanse. It was surreal, and even beautiful if you can believe it. And the biting cold just made me feel so ALIVE! This is why I love winter, I thought. This right here. When else do you get to be so alone and feel so great smack dab in the middle of the South Bronx?

The park, devoid of less hearty souls than I! (Yankee Stadium in the background)

Summer time is horrendous here. In the months of July and August, that same park has literally 80 - 120 people at all times just loitering about, talking late into the morning hours, playing craps and dominoes, shooting off firearms at random moments (yes, this DOES happen), and just generally making the park an unpleasant place to walk through.

But not now. Now, when the temps are in the low 20s F, and the windchill is in the single digits, the neighborhood is calm and at peace. And I find my mood reflecting that.

Like my friend GYSC, I have my own winter tale of caution to tell as well. When you read it, you'll wonder how I could ever love the season as much as I do.

See, I was in the Boy Scouts once. Rose all the way to the rank of Scout First Class before finally quitting around the age of 15. But this one time when I was 13, my troop decided to go camping in the woods in the middle of January. Yes, that's right: JANUARY! It was to attend some Scouts version of the winter Olympics, by which a bunch of local troops gather in the woods and compete at various skill-based competitions. First Aid and Rescue, Knot Tying, Shelter Building, Snow-Shoe Assembly (oh yes), Map & Compass use, and even Tracking. We sign up and participate in all these events in the attempt to earn our relevant merit badges.

Sounds great, right? Except, we were all kids from the inner-city ghetto. We didn't know shit about tracking through the woods. WTF? Still, our little Bronx troop of misfits tried our best. We didn't win anything, but at least we tried.

Here's where things get interesting, though. See, we had to set up our own lodging of course. Which meant constructing lean-tos and unrolling our sleeping bags inside them. Plain and simple. Problem is, I came woefully ill-equipped for that last part. Whereas everyone else somehow had these specially insulated winter sleeping bags--or "mummy bags" as we called them--I could only afford the thin, warm weather variety. My friends nicknamed it a "desert bag," since the desert is probably the only place such a pathetic excuse of a sleeping bag might work.

I've never been so cold in all my life! And to make matters worse, on that first night it started to snow. And continued snowing. By the time morning came around, we were all buried under 8 inches of snow! Yes, here we were in the middle of the woods in New Jersey while a damn blizzard was raging around us. We accumulate around 4 more inches before noon when the storm finally stopped. I don't think I ever once stepped out of my full winter gear, even to use the latrine. Hell, I even slept in my coat and mountain boots!

We managed to still have fun, though. That's what I remember the most. The bunch of us collecting firewood, running through drifts of snow, playing capture the flag and king of the mountain. I busted my knee slipping on a covered boulder while running through the woods once, but for some reason I got right back up and continued to chase after the rest of the troop. It really was like we were the Lost Boys out there.

But by the time the weekend came to a close, I was feeling the pain. Not even my glove warmers were doing the trick anymore. And I was wearing two pairs! I remember the troop packing up and hiking the long trail back down to the Ranger's station and parking lot. We stumbled along like zombies, none us able to feel our toes. And carrying all that gear on our backs sucked!

But then we made it, and I remember having a hot chocolate at the trading post while waiting for my aunt to come pick me up. Yes, we were too poor of a troop to afford organized transportation even. But somehow that only made the experience more endearing. When I came home, I took the longest, most decadent hot bubble bath of my life! I soaked in the tub for HOURS, submerged up to my nose, and still the warmth didn't seem to reach my bones. After continuing to run the hot water from the faucet for a while, it finally happened. But damn if I'll never forget that feeling of everlasting cold. BRRRRRR!

Yet despite all that, I loved it! I tell you right now I would do it all over again. I think something happened that weekend out there in the barren woods. For, from that moment on, I was always impervious to the cold. When I went away to Vermont for college, I would develop an even higher tolerance for the cold. Nowadays, no matter how cold it gets here in the city, it can never ever be THAT cold. This is nothing. I can do temps in the teens and twenties in my sleep. Ho-hum!

That all being said, I find myself thinking the impossible lately. I find myself contemplating taking a vacation to the Bahamas later this month. I know it won't really happen, but I can hope. My wife and I have this one perfect little island we like to go to there, and right about now it sounds just about DIVINE. Not because I need to escape the cold, but because I've never taken a beach holiday in the winter. Every time we go to the Caribbean, or some other near tropical locale, it always seems to be in the summer time. For once I would like to experience the novelty of getting on the plane where it's below freezing, and getting off where the people are wearing shorts and t-shirts and sipping mai-tais. :)

Sounds nice, doesn't it? Maybe we might do just that!

Maybe.

Channeling Crazy Dreams Into Creative Projects

2012-01-02T19:41:00.000-05:00

About a month ago I posted this update here about one of my short stories that had been based on a strange, Vicodin-fueled dream of mine. And although I never did sell the damn thing, I still consider it one of my better tales.

Well, looks like I've been inspired by Mr. Sandman all over again. Just, this time, minus the drugs.

Last night I had a pretty wicked dream, one that unfolded like a Stephen King story. It wasn't as wild and deranged as you might expect though, but I thought it to be quite interesting nonetheless. I woke up from it in the early morning hours before the sun had even risen. It was such a great idea for a story that I jumped out of bed and rushed into our den to dictate the dream into my iPhone.

But something told me to sit down and power up the PC, which I did. And instead of reciting the bare bones of a cool sci-fi/horror blend short story, I ended up cranking out a full-fledged outline in quick hand without pause. When I was done, I sat back and blinked, surprised that the sun had risen in the meantime. Whoa, that was intense! Somehow I had managed to perfectly capture the main essence of the dream, while at the same time roughing out the skeleton of a compelling 3-part narrative in the process.

I felt shocked. I felt proud. I felt . . . AMAZING! I went back to my pillow with a smile, but was too excited thinking about plot points to resume sleep.

Has this ever happened to you writers out there? Isn't it the most incredible feeling, like, EVAR?

When eventually I did get up for the day and finished eating breakfast, I immediately locked myself away in the den and proceeded to pound out 1,000 words of the initial draft. I get the feeling this will be one of my shorter tales, so it's possible I'm already 1/4th of the way through. It certainly feels like I'm moving along nicely. After I finish the first draft and maybe a second, I'll return to that ever progressing novel of mine. Don't worry, that's still moving along nicely. I'm not neglecting it.

I love writing!

Anyway, switching to different gears . . . if you notice my "Now Playing" sidebar on the right of the page, I've started up that game I mentioned a few months back:

I've been heavily invested in this title pretty much since the very moment I slid the disc into my Playstation 3 last week. I didn't think I would get drawn in so completely by it, but I did. The story just sucked me in LIKE THAT! This is why I love the end of the year. I get to choose from among all the great titles I didn't have time to try out during the year, and pick the one that looks like it will be the most fun. This Christmas season, as it was back in 2009, that game turned out to be an Uncharted title. And in this adventure, Nathan Drake and his compatriots travel from the London underground (literally), to a run-down medieval estate in France, to a Crusades-era castle in Syria, and now to the Arabian desert. All in search of a forgotten city of treasure lost beneath the sands.

This, for me, is the type of stuff that fuels my dreams. Which in turn fuels my writing. It's a neat "circle of life" approach to creativity, don't you agree? And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Now if I can only discipline myself to write when I need to write, and play when I need a break. But that's every writer's dilemma, I know. :)

Tomorrow I return to work since being gone for two weeks. I'm actually looking forward to a return to my normal schedule. Funny how that happens, huh?

Have a great week, guys!

How Bout Them G-Men, Eh?

2012-01-02T00:12:00.001-05:00

Well, this was an awesome night for my NY Giants. Way to go, Big Blue!!! Sucks to be a fan of any Texas-based team this Sunday, but sometimes that's just the way the cards are dealt. But at least one of your teams is still going to the playoffs, Texas. Us New York football fans--with (count 'em) THREE pro teams to root behind--are certainly no stranger to drawing all blanks come the post-season.

But not this year. Oh no, 2012 is already starting off to a promising start. What a happy New Year, indeed! :)

It's funny, because at the start of the season I had that OTHER New York team heading to the post--those Jets. I am and always will be a Giants fan, though, so in my heart of hearts I secretly wished that they would be the ones to pull it off. And boy did I get my wish!

And you can't write them off as a fluke, either. I mean, their offense is really starting to look dangerous out there, folks! I mean *really* dangerous. It's too early yet, and I don't want to jinx things . . . but, yeah. I'll just leave it at that. But you know that saying about waking the sleeping giant, right? 'Nuff said.

They face Atlanta next week. Will be a tough game, but one that will be on our home turf. The Giants are pretty confident at home, so this could end up being one for the ages. If somehow they make it through and have to face the Packers next, though, I think I might have to take the week off sick as I'm going to possibly pass out from nerves.

But in the meantime, hey -- FIRST BLOG ENTRY OF THE NEW YEAR! w00t!

Have a good night, everybody.

That Time Of Year Again

2011-12-31T18:49:00.001-05:00

Hi folks.

I've been gone a loooong time from the blogs, I know. Sorry about that. I usually get scarce this time of year, as I'm rarely online when I'm on staycation. How's that for irony, huh?

So this means I haven' blogged or read blogs in all this time. And I therefore apologize for my lack of comments, people. Nothing personal, okay?

Anyway, I hope you all are having a good wrap-up to the year. 2011 was not a nice year to me, and to be honest I can't wait for it to be done with already. But I hope the rest of you have had a better year. And even if yours sucked as much as mine did, let us join forces and wish really hard that we ALL have a fantastic 2012!!!

As some of you already know, the end of the year is never a good time for me. New Year's Eve is when my mother was taken from us, as I've already chronicled here and here before. So it's not a happy, merry ol' time for me or my family. We tend to be very low-key on this night, watching the ball drop on Times Square from the comfort of our living rooms, but not much else. I can only remember one time since my mother's passing that I've gone to a NYE party, and that was mostly to take my mind off depressing thoughts than anything else.

Still, don't let me spoil the fun and merry hijinks of this night. I wish you all the best . . . auld lang syne, and all that jazz. May you have a prosperous and joyous 2012.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

A Brief History Lesson, Game Of Thrones Style!

2011-12-19T14:19:00.001-05:00

So how was your weekend? Mine was fine, filled with a lot of writing done on the ongoing practice novel . . . but also much wailing and gnashing of teeth over the performance of my NYC-area NFL teams. Grrrrr! Way to eff up my Sunday, Giants and Jets! But at least I got to see the Pats embarrass the Broncos. Was looking forward to that the most, actually. And Tom Brady delivered!

Anywho . . .

Got a nice surprise over at Winter Is Coming.net this morning. Seems they received a specially made press-kit from HBO bearing the sigil of House Stark, and packed with all sorts of goodies for the upcoming home video release of the 1st season of Game of Thrones. You can click on the link to see what was in the kit, but I'm going to embed a special video below which was taken from the Blu-ray box set. The clip is part of one of the many special features, this one consisting of 24 videos pertaining to various aspects of Westerosi life, culture, and history -- and each containing sketch-art animation with narration provided by various members of the show's cast. This particular one details the religious institutions of Westeros, and is narrated by both Michelle Fairley (Catelyn Stark) and Isaac Hempstead-Wright (Bran Stark). This brief history of the dual religions which came to dominate Westeros is information that was spread out in bits and pieces throughout the books, but which is very handy for newcomers to get all in one place like this. Watch for yourselves and enjoy:

I'm impressed. And also, highly excited to get my hands on my own Blu-ray set this March! I'm going to watch all 24 vids as if they're a History Channel doc. It's going to be AWESOME, I just know it!

Batista's 10 Contrarian Rules To Life

2011-12-15T11:58:00.001-05:00

I've overcome many obstacles to get to where I am today. Those who know me already know the long of it, so I won't bore you with the details about my chaotic childhood. But do you wanna know a little secret I utilized to get through some of the tougher periods of uncertainty and doubt?

Simple: I did the opposite of what everyone else was doing!

It sounds like a an odd thing to say, right? But somehow it worked! I got through high school, for instance, by taking a look around me and realizing that I didn't want to be like all those other kids I saw because they were obviously headed in a very bad direction. So instead of hanging out, chasing girls, and seeking attention -- I stayed indoors, studied my ass off, and generally avoided people. Getting out of the inner city is really tough when the odds are stacked against you. Even more so if you don't come from a solid nuclear family who's members emphasize working hard to succeed. It's a vicious cycle! I simply did what I had to do to break out.

So, this is when I came up with my "opposite" rule. Do the opposite of what is undesirable, and perhaps you'll achieve that which is desirable.

It worked for me! Well, so far at least.

So, then, here are the 10 most crucial observations I've made about various aspects of this world that should really be obvious to most, but is sometimes not. Generally speaking, doing the complete opposite of these things will make you an all-around better person. These are my "Anti-Asshole" rules, in effect.

Ready?

1) Those who constantly talk about how smart they are, usually are not. (So don't be like that)

2) If it's easy money, it's illegal money. True financial reward can only come from working hard and smart.

3) The man who talks the loudest usually has the least of interest to say. (So speak softly and carry a big stick!)

4) If your charity needs to be acknowledged by others, then it is not true charity. (The anonymous donation is genuine)

5) If you begin a sentence: "I'm not racist, but . . ." You are most likely racist.

6) If you have to say: "My gay friend is coming to the party." You are most likely a bigot.

7) The popular girl in school has the most admirers, but the least friends. (Cherish your unpopularity)

8) Angry people die young. (Don't worry, be happy)

9) Fervent patriotism is not always a good thing. (Hitler was the ultimate patriot)

10) Pride is the ugliest human emotion. No one's ever donned a hood and bombed a church over "humble" power.

I'm sure I could go on and on, but these 10 are a good start. Thinking like this has prevented me from committing some spectacular failures in my lifetime. It also grants me the occasional immunity to "foot-in-mouth" disease.

Useful, that.

If anyone wants to add to the list, feel free to do so in the comments section below.

G.I. Joe Done Right!

2011-12-14T10:59:00.001-05:00

So, I don't think I've talked about it much here . . . but I hated that live-action G.I. Joe film that came out 2 years back: The Rise of Cobra. It wasn't a spectacular fail of my 80s childhood by any means (I liked it a lot better than the Michael Bay Transformers movies, for example), but it still left a lot to be desired by this fan.

Well, looks like that might all be changing when the sequel hits theaters next summer. At least, going by the recently released trailer, that is. Check it out below for yourselves:

Whoa! I like! I like it very, very much. I don't know how this is possible, but in some ways this one little trailer alone is far better than the entire 2009 film. HOLY HELLS! And yes, yes . . . I know that Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson is now in this as "Roadblock," and that all the talk is about Bruce Willis's surprise cameo as the original "Joe" -- General Joe Colton. That's all cool and all. And, in fact, Willis's delivery at the end of the trailer is just damn hilarious!

But forget all that! Do you know who I'm excited to see in this movie the most? My favorite ninja girl -- Jinx!

You spot her a few times in the trailer with the red blind fold. She's a scion of the famed ninja clan, the Arashikage, and is a disciple of the one and only "Blind Master" (played by the RZA, of all people) -- hence her "blind" fighting style, which I just think is the epitome of AWESOME!

I first fell in love with this character in the original G.I. Joe cartoon movie released back in 1987. She was part of the new rookie recruits known as the "Rawhides", trained by "Beach Head." In fact, one of my all time favorite scenes in the movie is when Beach Head gives her a hard time and tests her to see if she's got what it takes to join his team. Check out the clip below, which I'm sure will bring back tons of memories to you fellow 80s kids out there! :)

They just don't do animation this well anymore, do they?

And, oh how I love this scene! And from this point on, little 10-year old me was a die-hard Jinx fan! I would even dare say I had a huge crush on her. *blushes*

So, imagine how pleased I was to find out that the talented and beautiful French actress, Elodie Yung, would be playing her in the film. Are you serious? SCORE!!!! To be sure, I only know her previously from the movie, District 13: Ultimatum -- but she was one of the more memorable presences in that otherwise forgettable film.

Yeah, I think she might just work out fine!

G.I. Joe 2: Retaliation is currently slated for release on June 29, 2012 -- the weekend before Independence Day here in the States. I, for one, will be there opening day!

Winter Is Still Coming . . .

2011-12-12T10:35:00.004-05:00

. . . And the Cold Winds are Rising.

Eh? Not as strong a tagline as I would have liked, but I'll take it. Even if it was never uttered in the books. Anyway, THE DAY HAS ARRIVED. Finally, after so long a wait, the first teaser with any actual footage has been aired for the next season of HBO's Game of Thrones! It aired just before the season finale of Boardwalk Empire last night, and it was GLORIOUS!

Watch it for yourself below, and I'll comment afterwards:

“My brother left no trueborn heirs.
By right, and birth, and blood,
I do this day lay claim,
To the Iron Throne of Westeros.
Let all true men declare their loyalty.
The Iron Throne is mine by right.
They will bend the knee,
Or I will destroy them.
The cold winds are rising.”

Whoa! We only get to see a small amount of new footage, but it was enough to whet this fan's appetite. How about you?

I feel I need to provide a little context for what was just seen, though, as I think it might be difficult to follow for those who are not readers of the books. Or for those to whom the last season is a barely remembered blur. Heh, heh . . . it happens.

First off, the man you hear talking is Stannis Baratheon, younger brother to King Robert (who died in the first season), and older brother to Renly. Renly, if you recall, is the guy who served as King Robert's Master of Laws on the Small Council, and who urged Ned to seize the throne before Queen Cersei could place her illegitimate son on it. Ned, of course, refused and Renly fled King's Landing to marshal his own forces. Both he and Stannis lay equal claim to the Iron Throne now, under the pretense that the new King Joffrey was no seed of their brother Robert. The two younger siblings, in turn, hate each other and seek to eliminate their rival despite the blood they share.

Yeah, it's getting positively Shakespearean up in this piece!

Although it is Stannis's voice you hear doing the narration (acted by the talented Stephen Dillane), the first person you actually see in the clip is Renly Baratheon, astride a horse and wearing the stag crown of his noble house. The next scene--a night time one--shows Stannis himself, accompanied by his wife Selyse and a host of soldiers. These two are new to the show, and were never seen in the first season. Stannis was only ever mentioned by name on several occasions, including once during that now infamous grooming/blowjob scene between Lord Renly and his buddy, Ser Loras Tyrell--aka, the Knight of Flowers.

You remember THAT, now, don't you?

Next we get a series of one-shots featuring many faces you should all be familiar with by now. Of particular note is the quick shot of a short-haired Arya Stark, who should have a sizable role this season if they are closely following the book. Yay!

Pay particular attention to what you're hearing near the very end of the clip (at the 0:30 mark). That's three horn blasts from the top of the Wall. This is significant, if you don't know. One horn blast means a Ranger of the Night's Watch is returning from patrol beyond the Wall. Two blasts means a Wildling attack is imminent.

But three blasts . . . well, that means the White Walkers are approaching. *shudder*

Damn, this season is going to be BAD ASS! Are you as excited as I am?

Sports Week Roundup

2011-12-11T16:04:00.006-05:00

This has surely been a week for the ages in sports land. Where do I even begin?

West Coast Rattler In The MLB.

It all started with Jose Reyes leaving the Mets for the FL Marlins. Uh-oh, how low can the Mets sink now? As a dyed in the wool Yankees fan, I can only laugh at our poor miserable red-headed stepchild of a sports team we've got there across the East River. Their misfortune is my glee, and for them to lose who is arguably the "Derek Jeter" of the Mets -- well, I can only say good riddance! The Mets are a suck-ass excuse of an MLB team, and I think it's high time the local media admits it. In case some of you don't know, while the Yankees are of course the darlings here in New York, for some reason the actual news anchors who deliver the tv news are heavily slanted in favor of the Mets. I've never quite been able to get a clear explanation why this is the case, but I think it has to do with the "underdog" theory. Well, perhaps now they'll see just why the Mets deserve to continue being underdogs. They can't seem to do anything right!

Staying with the MLB, there was also news mid-week of Albert Pujols getting snatched up by the L.A. Angels. Oh great, as if that city needed MORE superstar sports stars on their local teams. I think this is going to be big trouble for the Yanks next season, as there are times I feel the Angels are a more feared rival than even the hated Boston Red Sux! Still, I'd be lying if I didn't admit to being excited about seeing Pujols on the West Coast. Too bad New York is aging pretty badly and won't really have anything to offer up next season to counter the threat from the West. Oh well, such are the whims of this sport. I still hold out hope that we can pull out some surprises of our own before Spring training begins.

NBA Losing Touch With Reality.

Or rather, Commissioner David Stern seems to be. Just when I thought L.A.'s luck couldn't possibly get any better, word came early in the week that the Lakers would be getting coveted super awesome point guard, Chris Paul. HOLY SHIT! I couldn't believe the news. Although, personally, I thought the deal stunk to high heaven from the get-go--I would never give up Gasol for ANY prospect in the entire NBA, period--I thought it was a gutsy move, and one that I could see as possibly paying off huge dividends for the Lake Show if handled properly. But then David Stern had a hissy fit and decided the league was better off without L.A. being an even bigger contender than it already was, nixing the deal in the name of fair balance to all the owners who currently have a shared stake in the N.O. Hornets. The fuck??? I've never seen more shady underhanded switcheroos going down in sports since the 1919 baseball World Series. And since I wasn't even around for that, this goes down as number 1 in my book. I mean, wow.

Still, while it's a shitty thing to have happen to Chris Paul, I guess there is nothing technically illegal with Stern stepping in. The Hornets are owned by the NBA, for all intents and purposes, and the Comish has the power to steer the NBA any way he deems necessary for the maximum revenue generation he sees fit. It still stinks, though. And I for one do not like it at all.

But on a local front, I'm pleased as punch to see our New York Knicks getting an early Christmas present this year. Tyson Chandler is now a Knick! OMG, I can't tell you how thrilled I am by this turn of events! Although it sucks if you are a Mavericks fan, eh? Damn, that must hit hard! But we get to benefit from Chandler's big-D, an area in which New York was sorely lacking. And with 'Mello and Amare already set in place, I think we're going to finally see the most dominant front court we've seen on the Knicks in what seems like AGES. And guess what? We also got veteran Mike Bibby, to boot! Holy shit! I'm a HUGE Bibby fan! Can this actually be the time for the Knicks to truly make their presence known? Christmas day is going to be extra special for me when they take on the Boston Celtics. Wow, what a game in the making!

There are rumblings that Dwight Howard may be coming to the Nets. If he does, this is going to be BIG, people! And I'm actually more of a Nets fan than I am of the Knicks! There's still no telling which way this rumor will turn out, but I have to admit I have my doubts. Will have to wait and see and cross my fingers in the meantime.

Let's Get Ready To RUMBLE!

The week started out huge with the fallout from the Cotto vs Margarito fight last Saturday. I was so glad to see that Mexican bum get his comeuppance, let me tell you. But it was a very good fight, nonetheless. As much as I hate the guy, Margarito does have staying power. But Cotto is the better boxer, and definitely the better man. Cheaters deserve to get punished and suffer in the worst way possible. I only wish the fight could have gone the full 10 and end in a spectacular knock-out! Though, to be honest, that was never going to happen with these two. Margarito, naturally, wanted a rematch immediately. Cotto just laughed it off for now, but personally I think there is one more bout left between these two heated rivals. Margarito's star is hugely diminished, but for the sake of closure I think there needs to be a definitive end to this saga.

HBO Sports had a big boxing event last night. Besides replaying the Cotto fight, they headlined the bout between super lightweights Amir Khan and Lamont Peterson live from Washington, D.C. But before we get to that, I have to say I was greatly entertained by the undercard heavyweight matchup between Timur Ibragimov and Seth Mitchell. The fight was over before the 2nd round even really began, but Mitchell impressed the hell out of me! Wow! The Uzbek, Ibragimov, is a respected technical fighter used to going long in the rounds -- but Mitchell absolutely put him down while barely breaking a sweat. I can't wait to see more from this guy in the future.

The main event of the night, Khan vs Peterson, was one of the better fights I've seen in a long time. I was so not expecting that! I honestly thought the bout would go long, but that Khan would come out on top in every round. Such was not the case. Peterson showed great heart out there, and really gave it as well, if not better, than he was getting. Still, I'm highly upset at the outcome. Although local boy Peterson did fight with real guts out there, there was no doubt in my mind that the fight belonged to Khan. But due to some truly bizarre officiating, the Brit ended up losing on the count of two points deducted for pushing. Pushing? PUSHING??? Are you fucking serious? That was some bullshit right there! The ref never even gave him any hard warnings. He did tell Khan to stop doing it a few times, but never a direct, hard-nosed warning like you would expect before a full deduction. And who the hell takes away points for pushing, anyway? Bizzare, I tell you!

So Peterson (right) is the new champ, and honestly it was an awesome fight. He showed great class, too, by immediately agreeing to a rematch. Really, it's the decent thing to do considering the shady circumstances surrounding the decision.

NFL Sunday Is The Place To Be.

Right now I'm watching the Kansas City Chiefs get absolutely demolished by Gang Green as I type this. It's good to see the Jets finally getting their act together, but I only wish it was against a more worthy opponent. I can't say this impending win inspires much confidence in me for where they go after this, but hey . . . one step at a time, eh?

The bigger news today, of course, is the matchup between my beloved NY Giants and that scrappy, little-known team you may have heard of, the Dallas Cowboys. HOO-BOY! I've been antsy ALL FUCKING WEEK for this game! Even today I've been a restless ball of nervous energy for the game to hurry up and BEGIN already! But, of course, the NFL wants to drag out my torture by scheduling it as the premiere lineup later tonight. Pure, unadulterated TORTURE, I tell ya! This is going to be a game to end all games. So much is on the line for the Giants. It's do or die for my team here. It's so big that I really have next to zero interest in whatever the hell else is going on in the NFL right now. I'm vaguely aware that the Pats and Redskins are involved in a major throw-down this current moment, with the Pats on top so far. And that's all good and all, but -- GO BIG BLUE!!!!

And that, as they say, is all the news that's fit to print. Sound off on your own thoughts re: the big sports week we've just had, and are still having, in the comments section below. Also, if you will (and if you follow such things), be sure to include your pick for who you think will survive tonight's big NFC East showdown. Pretty please?

Have a good Sunday, all!

EDIT @ 12:13am: Phew! That was such a nail biter of a game. Right down to the wire. SWEET MAMMA-JAMMA, JAMBALAYA!!! I must have had a hundred heart attacks during the 4th quarter alone, plus another one when 6 seconds were left on the clock for that attempted field kick. Jesus H. Christ! But, alas, I am so thrilled the G-Men pulled it off. Wow, Eli was looking like a real QB down the stretch there. He showed heart against the Cowgirls on their own turf! It was close, but I'll take that win straight to the bank, thank you very much. WOOOOO!!! :)

In Which I Get My Man Card Revoked

2011-12-10T21:54:00.001-05:00

My wife, Lisa, and I just watched this movie (again) tonight, apropos of the season upon us.

I know I risk my masculinity by admitting this . . . but Love, Actually is one of the best Christmas movies of all time! Definitely my favorite romantic comedy bar none. That's right, you heard me. I watch romantic comedies on occasion. Sue me. Of course, I have Lisa to thank for this, as I'd probably want to stab myself in the eye were I single and all angsty about love and what-not. But as it stands, I like a well made romantic comedy. Don't you? And Love, Actually is the most heart-whelming and funniest of them all, in my opinion.

Anyway, watching this film for the umpteenth time now I've decided to officially crack open my special Xmas playlist on the ole iPod. I only ever listen to this playlist in December, before closing it again for yet another year. But I had to listen to Mariah Carey's song "All I Want For Christmas" twice, because honestly it is just that awesome! Click on the link to see her official video of the song. Like Love, Actually is to romantic movies for me, I strongly feel that this is the best Christmas tune of the modern age. Seriously, how can you not get into the holiday spirit after listening to that? It is sublime perfection, I tell ya!

Also, that Mariah sure can sing her heart out! It's only fitting that the song was featured so prominently in the movie, then. And, with that being said, I leave you now with the perfect scene from that movie to set the mood off. This little girl does an impressive cover of the song in question:

And how cute is that little boy with his puppy-love crush? Ah, young love! Where have you gone? (ha, ha)

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Motherly Favoritism?

2011-12-09T11:50:00.000-05:00

Hmmm, I've been wondering . . .

Why does it seem mothers proffer way more attention on their sons instead of their daughters? It's an observation I've been making among many of my real life and Facebook friends (not that FB isn't real life, but you know what I mean -- ha!). And yes, if you're a mother with both sons and daughters, I already know what you're going to say:

But, Batista, I love ALL my children EQUALLY! Blah, blah, blah.

Can it, okay? Because, let me tell you: that's sooooo not what I'm seeing! What I see on FB and the blog-o-spheres is a tendency of many mothers to baby the living hell out of their sons, meanwhile giving their daughters what they term a sense of "self dependence." Haha -- but we all know what that really means, right? It means: toughen up, little lady! Because your whole life will be nothing but you fighting for your rights and dignity, and sticking up to the cruel injustices the world inflicts on women.

While there is much truth to all that, of course (girls really need to be taught strong, independent values), I think mothers should take a step back and examine what they're really doing to their kids.

On Facebook, for instance, I've noticed that mothers of both boys and girls constantly praise their sons and record every little motherly greatness they've performed for their male offspring on any given day. And what about their daughters? These they relegate to the occasional reference on birthdays or major milestone moments.

That's it.

But for the 364 other days of the year, it's: "go team Mama's Boy!" all THE DAMN TIME! It's almost as if mothers are making up for a self-perceived inferiority complex they themselves developed growing up in a generation where we were all taught that men RULE THE WORLD!

Which is strange, actually, since nowadays we're very much living in the time of the Super Mom who can never do no wrong. Super Mom is so much smarter, harder working, and a better parent all around than her nameless, helpless spousal partner who gets occasionally referenced as simply "the hubby" whenever Super Mom is feeling magnanimous.

So I find it weird, in this day and age when we're supposed to be more sensitive about empowering the women in our lives, that mothers are STILL practicing the time-worn tradition of holding their sons up on a higher pedestal than daughters. As if to say that boys are lacking in certain areas and actually NEED the boost up? Oh, forget the girl! She's strong and brilliant--JUST LIKE ME--and will therefore be fine. I'm not worried about her.

Admit it, mothers: this is how you rationalize your treatment of your daughters. Right?

But fine? FINE YOU SAY? Hundreds of psychiatrists and millions of dollars spent on therapy say otherwise, methinks. After all, is there anything more fraught with pitfalls than the modern day mother-daughter relationship? By contrast, father-son rifts look like a day at the spa!

Look, I understand the opposite-gender favoritism thing that parents have going on. Mothers favor their sons, fathers favor their daughters. Freud wrote many, many articles on the subject, I think. And I get it. Really, I do. Still, if you're a single mom, or a mom who has a very strong presence in her kids lives (meaning, you actually give a damn), then please stop raising boys who grow up into pampered, egocentric, entitled pricks. Those self-centered ignoramuses who think women exist solely to prop them up and mooch off of.

This is all I'm getting at here. It's becoming an epidemic around these parts nowadays. I can't tell you the number of assholes I know who just so happen to be mama's boys, too. I mean, honestly -- you think there's not some correlation there?

So please, unless you're an ancient Egyptian . . . ease up on that there son worship, ladies. In this day and age where the good, conscientious, self-sufficient man is a dying breed, and where mother-daughter relationships have never been at their most fractured, how about you stop pretending your daughters are thick-skinned and actually reflect her accomplishments on Facebook or the blog for a change?

I'm so tired of hearing how great Billy is, and how he will be your baby FOR-EVAH and EVAH!!! Stop shouting to the world how handsome, tall, and strong your Mark is -- and, oh . . . as an aside, Sally won a scholarship to Yale, too. She takes after me, you know?

I think you know by now which one of those accomplishments I find more pertinent to the real world and, therefore, worthier of praise. Give me brains over good looks any day, I say!

As mentioned earlier: it might not be as apparent to you, but it is to us. Your sons are getting WAY too much of the shout outs and atta-boys from you on the Internet. So let's stop this blatant favoritism before the world is filled with nothing but soft, mewling, pansied man-boys getting absolutely NOTHING done, and hurting the women around them with their gender-elitist attitudes.

Oh wait -- TOO LATE!

And this is coming from a former boy who got pampered and exulted from the female parental figures in his life, you know? Yes, even in my screwed up, shit for luck life I couldn't escape this preferential treatment. Sure, I benefited greatly from it on an emotional level, but holiday get-togethers with my female siblings and our guardians is the stuff social therapy textbooks are made from!

Just a friendly word (or thousand) of advice this holiday season. I'm all about giving, don't you know . . .

That Time I Dreamed Of Talking Flowers . . .

2011-12-05T16:13:00.000-05:00

Over at the Economic Disconnect, my good buddy GYSC waxes nostalgic about the joys of taking prescribed painkillers, and cautions why it's perhaps not the best time to perform even basic automotive maintenance while under their, er, spell. In the comments section, I mentioned I have my own cautionary tale to tell--which coincidentally also came about from being prescribed painkillers after surviving a sometimes harrowing, though rudimentary, dental procedure.

It was late January, 2007. I was 30 years old and going in for my first major surgical procedure of my life. Fortunately, it was a routine wisdom tooth extraction. Unfortunately, I had opted to get all 4 removed at once! Pretty much since the age of 12 onward I would experience periodic and quite painful gum swelling at the rear of my mouth, just behind the last molars. One time, even, a small space opened up and got infected back there. I needed penicillin that time, and oh how my pee smelled terrible for the next 2 weeks or so!

There was a brief time during and just after college when I had no medical or dental insurance, so I went a few years longer than I should have without regular checkups. But finally, just as I was starting to take all facets of my health more seriously as I entered my 30s, all this negligence caught up to me right quick! In 2006, I learned that some of my wisdom teeth had not come through the gumline completely, and that in fact one of them was actually impacted. A visit to the oral surgeon confirmed that I would need to have all my wisdom teeth removed at some point, and preferably sooner rather than later.

I agreed to the sooner option, and all at once. I hate when jobs are left incomplete, don't you? It's a pet peeve of mine. So I insisted on this. I also insisted that I not be put under, since this is a rule I live by until it becomes absolutely impossible to maintain. If there is an option, in other words, I will never agree to be put under. I simply cannot abide the thought of losing that kind of control even for a mere second, if I can help it.

For some reason, the surgeon didn't seem to think this would be a problem. I know some of you might be thinking I'm crazy right about now. But I actually have a VERY high pain threshold. And I figured that, plus the novacaine, would be enough for me.

And you know what? I was right! No shit.

Yes, I know you were expecting a different outcome. One filled with blood, curses, and prodigious amounts of screaming, right? Well, sorry to disappoint. The entire procedure, once the surgeon rolled up his sleeves and got to work, only lasted 25 minutes. It would have been faster, in fact, if not for the very last tooth getting caught around a nerve ending. The surgeon had to be more delicate with that situation, obviously, and ended up busting the tooth up into little pieces with a drill first, before gingerly removing each chunk by hand.

The entire time I barely felt a thing. I could feel the tug at my jaw as he wrenched each tooth out with those huge pliers, and the crunching sound that ensued was pretty awesome to my ears as well. But, honestly, I felt not even one moment of piecing pain. To this day, I have no idea what people go on about when they talk about the horror of getting wisdom teeth removed. Especially since so many opt to be put under and wouldn't remember the pain anyway. Go figure on that one.

Anyway, after all was said and done, I was given the drill (not literally) on how to keep rinsing out my mouth at home with slightly salted water, flushing the empty sockets out with this water pic type device, and taking my percocet pills on a regular schedule.

At first I didn't think I would even need the pills. The local hadn't worn off yet and, except for the huge wad of gauze inside my mouth, I felt perfectly fine.

And then I came home, and the anesthetic wore off!

Yeah, I felt true pain then. Enough for me to run for the pills. And oh how it hit me, that blasted percocet! At first I felt nothing. Then gradually over the course of a few minutes the pain began to subside. Pretty soon I was feeling fine. A little too fine, perhaps. Then I got sleepy, so I took a nap.

What happened next is too graphic and surreal for me to adequately describe here. My head was spinning, first off. And somehow that had me spiraling down, Alice In Wonderland-style, through the looking glass of a demented Tim Burton-esque experience. I was floating high, I was floating low. Angry colors assaulted me as if they were real, breathing people, and then the happy colors came and chased them away. I heard voices far and near, echoing as if through canyons.

And then the talking flowers showed up. They had a lot to tell me, the petaled folk. I can't say I remember exactly how the conversation went, but I know it was fairly deep. I was being told secrets of the universe I really should have tried harder to retain.

Anyway, next thing I knew I was waking up three hours later from what was supposed to only be a thirty-minute nap. The fuck?

But the last vestiges of that crazy dream was still there, floating around on a euphoric, rainbow-hued cloud in the back of my head. Quickly, before it all vanished, I ran to my PC and started cranking out the hasty outlines of a brand new short story. The concept was bizarre and unlike anything I had conceived up to that point, but already the effects of the drug-fueled dream were fading fast. I managed to get all the important bits down, and then I took another nap.

It wasn't long after that I switched from percocet to maximum strength Tylenol instead. Yes, it meant that I would have to deal with a little more pain . . . but at least my head stayed clear and free of talking plant matter. Honestly, the freaky dreams were cool in that they provided me with great writing material. But the vertigo and spinning rooms I could do without. I really don't know how people get addicted to this stuff, because it quite frankly scared the shit out me.

Anyway, once I could think clearly I sat down and started to type out the story proper. It turned into a pretty long story, in fact, and was very bizarre. Several critiques and revisions later, I had a final draft that I tried to shop around. It got rejected to hell and back again, and eventually I trunked the behemoth.

But this is what blogs are for: to dredge up old ghosts of stories past. If you would like to read the story that resulted from my brief brush with Rock 'n' Roll fun, click here to get to it. Alternatively, you can also find the story, titled "Ascending the Sending Road," by checking out my Unpublished Short Stories sidebar on the upper right-side portion of this blog.

Give it a read if you feel like it, and then come back here and leave comments. But don't feel obligated to. It's a lengthy read at over 30 pages long, so I'll understand if you take a pass.

And also, remember . . . DON'T DO DRUGS!!!

Boston, Prepare Thyself!

2011-12-01T20:08:00.002-05:00

I may be all up in your shiz come President's Day weekend!

Yup, folks, I think this my be it. I think this may be the time I finally pop my cherry (of sorts) . . . and attend my very first ever science fiction book convention! What in the seven hells could I possibly be going on about? Why, take a looksee for yourselves:

Yes. I've been giving it a lot of thought lately, and I think I just might be able to pull this off. I've known about Boskone for quite a few years now, and each year I promise myself that this will be the year I go. And then I never do. But that's it. I'm putting my foot down! This time I will not flake out. Boston is also not very far from NYC, so I really have no excuse. The con itself is being held at the Westin Waterfront, somewhere downtown on Summer St. near the Boston Convention Center.

Of course, my decision is made all the more easy by the fact that the one and only John Scalzi, extraordinaire, will be there in person as next year's Guest of Honor. I missed him the last time he was here in New York promoting his novel, Fuzzy Nation. So this may just be my chance to make up for that oversight.

To be sure, Boskone will have a lot more to offer us con goers than just His Baconess alone, radiant though he may be (or maybe that's his cat?). If you take a gander at last year's program, you can see that Boskone is no joke when it comes to jam packing the weekend with lots and lots of interesting and varying things of a geeky nature for us fans and newbie writers to squee over. Since all this will be new to me, however, I'm pretty sure I'm going to utterly screw up my time management skills during this event. There's just too much to do! But oh well, no time like now to finally learn. And Boskone is a relatively small convention compared to, say, your Worldcons or DragonCons.

I'm very excited, though, but also not yet decided on this course of action. I'm going to give it a few days to stew over the pros and cons of going before finally taking the plunge. But in the meantime, if anyone has been to any Boskones past and/or would like to use your powers of persuasion to convince me to go, the comments section below is at your command. Use your powers for good, though.

Thank you.

Post-Turkey Day Wrap-Up

2011-11-29T20:30:00.002-05:00

I love this time of year!

I know I've stated this many times ad-nauseaum here already, but actually the reason this time has nothing to do with the holidays. It has to do with work. Many of you don't know this, but November and December are wind-down months at my office. Most of the busy work is between the months of April and September, with October being a transition month. But especially starting in mid to late November, we get to sit back and take a breather while more mundane, non-critical tasks are completed and reviewed. So in addition to the already festive mood I'm in, I get the added luxury of having it pretty easy at my nine-to-fiver as well.

So, this is my rather roundabout way of saying that the return back to the office after 4 luxurious days off has been a breeze. Nothing too taxing for me to stress over. How was your own transition back into the daily grind?

In addition to an easy, breezy start to the week, I had a rather sweet weekend spent at home finishing up some odds and ends. I did a bit of house cleaning, sure. But more importantly--I finished up two items of import which I shall go into more detail below:

Dragons are such terrible dancers.

Yes, at long last, I have finished reading the massive 960 page fantasy novel A Dance with Dragons after only 4 months. Took me long enough, eh? Yes, normally I would have finished it within a month, but it was so good that I wanted to savor it for as long as possible. Plus, I kept getting distracted by personal life issues I shall not discuss. But in the end I got through it, and what an ending it was! For those of you who may not know, ADWD is the fifth book in the "A Song of Ice and Fire" series -- a.k.a., the "Game of Thrones" series. It's been several years overdue, and probably only came out at long last back in July due to the well-received and hyped HBO adaptation of the first novel, which I suspect kicked the author into gear to complete this latest installment in his ongoing opus.

The book had many epic ups and downs, but I was particularly hard hit by how a favorite character was treated near the very tail end of the novel. However, the epilogue made up for it in spades with a very cool "twist" of sorts and the death of a fairly important secondary character. His end came about quite chillingly, too, which left me with my mouth hanging wide open. I won't spoil the details here concerning who it was or what the extenuating circumstances were, but I'll leave you with the last couple of sentences below, including an ending line that by itself should win a major literary award:

"They were all around him, half a dozen of them, white-faced children with dark eyes, boys and girls together.
"And in their hands, the daggers."

How's that for a closer? Damn, I wish I could deliver an ending that bad ass!

Speaking of dancing: have you ever danced with the Devil in the pale moonlight?

"It's just something I ask of all my victims."

Yes, I have defeated the Joker and brought law and order of a sort back to Gotham City! I finished up Batman: Arkham City for the Playstation 3 over the weekend. The ending boss fight was a bit anticlimactic to say the least, but that's becoming common practice with games these days. What matters is that the whole rest of the game was aces in terms of story, gameplay, and adherence to the Batman mythos. I believe I had more fun on this sequel than the previous game, mostly due to the amped up everything: environments, gadgets, combat, and the Rogue's Gallery of villains. I even completed damn near all of the side missions save for two. I think I'll spend a few more days cleaning up any overlooked items I missed during this initial playthrough, but even now I'm searching for my next game to play and conquer. Nothing big, mind you. Just something to tide me through the holiday season when I'll be taking 2 weeks off from work at the end of the year.

If you have any suggestions, send them my way.

And now in the too cute to ignore category . . .

I posted up on Facebook earlier today this Youtube video I stumbled upon while searching for something entirely different (don't you just love when that happens?). It's a vid put together by two college-aged ESL teachers for their middle grade students in Japan. The clip primarily teaches the funny differences between American and British English. Even though these two are not professional actors (and it shows!), I simply find it so adorable the effort they put into educating their young charges on the wackier challenges our fair language can present to the unsuspecting new learner:

I especially adore the female contingent of this awkwardly nervous but lovable duo. She has such great positive energy that I'm sure her students appreciate. Actually, the pair of them offer up great chemistry together. Heck, if I had the money I would love to produce a more refined series of tutorial vids starring these two. As someone who's had to learn not one but two second languages (heh, heh), I can't stress enough how important fun and engaging learning aids can be when picking up a foreign language.

My hat's off to them both!

There And Back Again, A Thanksgiving Tale

2011-11-25T23:09:00.003-05:00

Woke up early yesterday morning for the long drive. Where we live in New York City is fairly close to the major highways heading north, so driving to visit my aunt and uncle upstate is easy. It's just a matter of navigating the very twisty, narrow roads as you get closer to the mountains and out into the "boonies," where the trees far outnumber the people.

As I wrote two nights ago, I had rented a Hyundai Santa Fe from Enterprise for the occasion. The car was a brand new 2011 model, and it certainly did not disappoint! For a mid-sized SUV, it had pretty decent gas mileage. I believe the distance between the Bronx and Old Chatham where my aunt and uncle live is about 160 miles, but I only ended up using a quarter tank of gas. Pretty sweet!

My sister brought her crazy dog, Shiva, along. She would not sit still at all the ENTIRE. WAY. UP! But once she got out of the car, she was totally loving all the free space to run around in. I think she got more exercise on this one trip than an entire week in the city affords. Wow!

A few years ago my mother's sister and her husband purchased this old, dilapidated wreck of a house on the edge of a 3-acre plot of land in the middle of the woods outside Albany. I mean, this is REALLY out there in a red riding hood going to grandma's sort of way. Visiting them reminds me a lot of going to college in Vermont, actually. I love how crisp and fresh the air smells outside of the city!

As you can see, the house is looking pretty darn nice now. My uncle put a lot of work into restoring it, and now it looks like a quaint little cottage in the woods. I really like what they've done with the place. Before they purchased it, it had been a hangout for local teens engaged in dubious activities. And now it is the home of a loving couple, their two cats -- and an assorted variety of uninvited guests in the form of chipmunks, field mice, and the occasional bat or two. It's amazing what a little tender loving care can do to bring a community together, huh?

This is Carmen, the Tabby. She looks a lot like our old cat, Tiger. Except she's way fatter! :) She was completely not phased by the introduction of a nosy, rambunctious doggie into her quiet zen solitude of a world, though. She simply took one look at Shiva and then immediately returned to her nap. Their other cat Star, however, promptly ran away and hid in the basement the entire time we were there. Oh well, her loss.

The interior of the house is amazing. I, of course, simply love the fireplace! We all settled down to a nice, if somewhat low-key, dinner while the logs crackled and popped in the background. Surprisingly, no one really pigged out like on Thanksgivings past. We ate well, don't get me wrong. But lets just say I had plenty of leftovers to lug home when the night was through.

I drove back in the complete, utter darkness you can only find up in the mountains away from all the visual pollution of the city or even the suburbs. I had my high beams on for most of the way back to the main highway, all the while expecting Big Foot to come running out of the woods. But all we saw was a scared raccoon scuttling away once. As usual, the road had a couple of a-hole drivers out and about late at night who really should never be allowed to drive, ever -- let alone on a major holiday. The less said about that experience, the better.

But, yeah, it was a great little excursion to get together with the family. We missed having my little brother there, who lives out in Houston now. All in all, though, it was wonderful to be with all my loved ones. And I got us home in one piece, too, so who can complain, right?

Thanks for all the warm holiday wishes on the other post, everyone! I hope you and yours had a great holiday and/or Thursday. I'll be catching up on your own blogs in a little while, but I just wanted to take the opportunity to say . . . now, BRING ON CHRISTMAS!!!

Yes, this is my absolute favorite time of the year! Whatever crummy, shitty year I might have had before late November suddenly fades away as a distant memory when the holidays finally crop up. It's at times like this that I wish Americans celebrated more really big, national family holidays. Unfortunately, our history doesn't go back far enough for a major holiday every two months like some countries have. But I wouldn't change anything about this time of year.

This . . . this is all right!

Another Holiday, Another Rental Car . . .

2011-11-23T20:55:00.001-05:00

As many of you may already know, parking in NYC is atrocious. Add to that the overcrowding and all the never ending parking rules, and it's practically prohibitive to own a car in this city. But for those of us who sometime find the need to drive where the subways and taxis won't venture, this can provide a bit of a quandary. I've gotten over that particular hump in recent years by resorting to Zipcar. Which works fine, most of the time.

The only time it becomes impossible, though, is on or around major holidays. Like now. This year all the Zipcars in New York are booked solid for tomorrow. My aunt's having Thanksgiving at her house up north near the Mass. border with New York -- a quaint, out of the way place in the woods near Old Chatham. That meant, naturally, that I would be needing to rent a car. Ye gods!

This year I decided to give Enterprise a try for the first time. Usually I go with Avis, even if they are very overpriced. Enterprise is more modestly budgeted, however, which I used to always view with suspicion. But this year I had no choice -- all the other big rental agencies were sold out in the area. Bummer!

The surprise was on me, though, when I showed up today and found the people who work at my local Enterprise agency to be both professional and very accommodating. I had reserved a Nissan Sentra since it was the only class of car still available online, but when I got to the garage all they had for me was a Sonata. And a pretty decrepit looking Sonata at that! WTF?

But the agent lady was very nice. She offered me an upgrade to a Hyundai Santa Fe for no extra charge! I thought about it, realized that I'll be travelling on dirt roads at least for the tail end of the journey, and quickly decided that perhaps having all-wheel-drive at my disposal might just be a good thing.

And I have to say, it's not a bad looking vehicle for a two-day rental:

Of course, I knew finding a parking spot for it in my neighborhood was going to be a nightmare. I tried to get home before rush hour, however, and lucked out big time after finding an empty space big enough for two cars to fit directly across the street from my apartment building. SCORE!

So I'm all set for the holiday now. Tomorrow I will be driving up to my aunt's house with my grandmother, sister, and her boyfriend in tow. It's a 2.5 hr drive on twisting, albeit scenic, two-lane highways, but I'll have good company and music to wile away the time. And, best of all, plenty of interior space high up off the ground, which I actually prefer.

All in all, I think things turned out far better than I had anticipated earlier this week. Hopefully the drive up and back will be non eventful (i.e., no stupid drunk drivers on the road). While I'm gone and away from blogger land, I'd like to take this moment to wish you all a very Happy Thanksgiving. And if you're not from the U.S., then have a fantastic Thursday, Nov. 24th!

Gobble, gobble! :)

Sample Scene From Unnamed Novel

2011-11-21T12:43:00.003-05:00

Although I don't speak about it much here, I've been busy these past couple of months taking a second stab at my practice novel. My earliest readers may recall that I'm writing this so-called "practice" novel based on the old Nintendo video game, Castlevania III: Dracula's Curse. This game was a huge thing back when I was 14 yrs old. I remember literally saving up PENNIES for its release, and going to the nearby K.B. Toy Store with my younger brother and friends--and a brown bag full of loose change with which to pay for it! That's some dedication there, boy! And although there are better games in the series (Super Castlevania IV and Symphony of the Night, to name two), I felt this was the best game for me to try and novelize, being that it had a bare-bones plot and is a prequel to the very first game which came out in 1987.

A while back I wrote a brief book flap synopsis to give my friends an idea of what was in store for this novelization of mine. You can read it below, if you'd like:

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

DRACULA IS DEAD!

Or is he?

15^th century Wallachia is on the brink of civil war. The great noble houses vie for control of the throne left empty by the demise of their prince, Vlad Dracula. Yet rumors persist of renewed activity at Dracula’s haunted mountain citadel. Dark clouds brew above the tallest parapets, while ungodly beasts stalk the forests below. Some say Dracula has turned strigoi—vampire!—and means to spread his unholy influence all across Europe.

The people pray for a hero to appear. They whisper the name: Belmont!

Armed with a legendary heirloom bequeathed by his ancestors, Trevor Belmont answers the call. But if he ever hopes to see daylight again, he’ll need to enlist the aid of a motley trio of unlikely allies:

Grant the adventurer, charming and deadly with a dagger.

Sypha the warlock, cryptic master of the arcane arts.

And finally, Adrian—an enigmatic immortal who’s hatred of Dracula may surpass Trevor’s own.

In the highest tower above Castle Dracula, the Belmont clan's eternal foe patiently awaits. Can Trevor overcome the fiendish traps set before him? Or will he and his companions surrender their souls upon the treacherous battlements of . . .

CASTLEVANIA?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, I'm still down and dirty in the trenches writing this thing. It's been a whirlwind of an experience so far as I learn the rudiments of novel crafting. This is my very first attempt at a novel, hence the "practice" part. I have no intention of selling this or making anything from this work at all. In a sense, it's a glorified fan fiction--although it's actually more of a dramatic re-telling of the events that happen in the game. I've added way more than the game provided in terms of story, dialogue, characterization, and even plot. The outline still remains the same--a Belmont is summoned to deal with a horrific vampire--but I added varying levels of nuances not immediately found in the game itself. This is what a novelist is supposed to do with an established media vehicle, after all.

Below is an excerpt taken from fairly early on in the novel. It's in its draft stage, barely edited, and very rough around the edges. But I wanted to give you all an idea of what I'm writing so far--in terms of tone, pacing, dialogue, and character fleshing. Its not much, but I hope some of you enjoy.

By the by, the artwork above depicts three of the characters who appear in this scene, including my main protagonist Trevor Belmont. If I knew who the artist was, I would credit them.

And now, on to the excerpt!

=======================================

Trevor crouched beside the trunk of the large Cyprus tree, clutching the Vampire Killer’s handle impatiently. Down the side of the embankment along the stream’s edge, Grant made a show of stumbling over his bare feet. The torch in the sailor’s left hand had been reignited, and the demon hunter forced his eyes from following the flame’s hypnotic dance through the gloom.

Something coarse and yielding pressed against his ear. Trevor glanced up to find the mysterious mage suddenly standing beside him, his voluminous habit billowing in the gentle breeze left in the wake of the storm. The hooded figure watched the scene below them in silence.

“You’re back,” Trevor whispered to the man after stretching to his full height. The mage had been gone a good while, forcing Grant to redouble and begin his farce all over again half a dozen times. The agile seaman’s colorful choice of epithets, however, had not all been for the benefit of the ruse.

“Did you find any sign of the beast?”

Sypha turned to him. “The lycan is near. I found her den hidden behind a fallen tree a hundred yards west of here. And fresh spore along the trail as well. I believe she has picked up his scent.”

Trevor’s gaze returned to their acrobatic companion, who had decided to splash his way across to the opposite bank. He went down in the mud on one knee, which elicited another round of overly loud swearing.

“I can’t say I approve of this plan, master Sypha. A lycanthrope is serious business. And one who feels she’s being hunted, thrice as dangerous.”

“Be at ease,” the mage rasped in reply. “This will work.”

Trevor waited for the other man to continue before realizing his silence was intentional. He sighed and continued to play at the handle of the tightly coiled leather on his hip. “I don’t think our seafaring friend down there enjoys being the bait in this deception of yours.” He sniffed at the sudden realization. “There’s some irony in that, I suppose.”

The downturned cowl raised fractionally in his direction.

“You know,” Trevor continued, deadpanning, “being the catch rather than the fisherman in all this?”

The demon hunter felt the other man’s gaze linger on him for far longer than comfortable. At length, an odd choking sound emerged from beneath the hood. He realized with a start that the mage was laughing.

“I say, master Trevor . . . you are not at all as I imagined.”

“Oh? Now I must confess intrigue, seeing as how we never met before tonight. Tell me, how is it that I come to be the subject of your personal musings, sir?”

Once again he felt the man’s gaze heavy upon him behind the mask and cowl. “Ever since I was a . . . child, I’ve drawn strength from the tales of your courageous and noble family. The Belmont name still brings hope to the beleaguered people of these lands. Hope that a legendary hero may emerge to banish the Darkness.” Sypha paused, as if carefully choosing his next words. In the gloom, Trevor thought he saw the man’s delicate hands flexing open and closed by his sides. It was difficult to tell for sure.

“I’ve always imagined myself kin to your noble lineage, Lord Belmont. If not in name and blood, then surely in spirit. Should I never afford the opportunity to profess it when our quest is done, sir, allow me to say it now: it is an honor to fight by your side.”

The demon hunter cursed inwardly, but despite his best effort he found himself flattered by the mage’s touching words. Yet before he could find voice to reciprocate the unexpected kindness, Sypha’s pale hand flashed toward him, index finger raised to solicit his silence.

“He is near!” the mage hissed. “Now is the time, sir. Be on your guard and wait for the signal.”

Trevor unfurled the Vampire Killer in a quick gesture, dropping into a half crouch. “How do you know . . .?”

But the mysterious practitioner was gone just as silently as he had appeared. Trevor echoed one of Grant’s choicest epithets under his breath and watched the stream bed below. For his part, the sailor appeared aware of his imminent danger. The wiry man paused in his slow climb up the far side of the muddy embankment, waving his torch from side to side as if seeking the source of some unknown sound.

Then Trevor heard it. A curious snuffling emanating from the dark undergrowth north of where the seaman stood. The sound raised the hairs on the back of his neck, and in his hand the whip glowed a deep shade of heliotrope. He started to crawl forward toward his companion’s direction, but paused after remembering Sypha’s earlier warning.

She must believe her prey is helpless and completely alone.

Trevor checked to make sure he was still upwind of Grant’s position. He hated having to wait knowing the man was in danger, but their mysterious mage had reassured them both that his stratagem was sound.

I hope so, my cryptic friend, Trevor thought darkly. For your sake.

The sniffing sound suddenly turned into a menacing growl, as if the unseen creature had caught the full scent of her quarry at last. The brush alongside the stream bed parted, and out emerged a hideous huge brute of a were-beast. She hunkered low to the ground, the werewolf did, her human-like hands ending in fearsome looking claws which scraped the dirt. Upon catching sight of the truly frightened Grant, the beast raised her head and howled triumphantly to the leaden sky above. Her parted muzzle revealed vicious curved fangs dripping ichor from her last meal.

“Neptune’s balls!” Trevor heard the sailor cry out. Grant stumbled down the embankment and fell onto his back in the middle of the flowing stream. The lycan padded softly along the uneven ledge above, confident in her imminent kill.

“By the Prophet!” Grant turned and yelled to the trees, “I don’t want to play this game anymore, you two. Get this thing away from me!”

The hell with this! the demon hunter swore, but suddenly a robed figure appeared from out of the darkness on the south embankment. The lycan paused and swiveled her massive head in the mage’s direction, eliciting a sharp bark of surprise. Sypha wasted no time and raised his arms swiftly above his head. He uttered a single ancient word of power that resounded loudly above the murmur of the stream. The air grew still and ominous as the staff in his left hand blazed to life. A streak of orange flame erupted from the jeweled knob atop the rod, jumping across the banks between them. The creature howled in dismay and fell down the embankment, scrabbling frantically across the smooth, rounded stones at the bottom in an effort to escape her flame-wielding tormentor.

Trevor remembered his cue and launched himself out of the trees. Down he flew, turning once in midair and landing heavily on his feet amidst the flowing, cool waters of the stream. The werewolf came to a stop mere yards from where the demon hunter stood with legs spread wide apart and brandishing the terrible weapon of his ancestors. The Vampire Killer flickered wildly so close to the preternatural beast, an effect which caused the lycan’s eyes to grow wide as saucers.

“Back!” Trevor commanded, lashing viciously at the air with a crack of the whip. “Back you demon!”

The werewolf snarled viciously, but each attempt she made to rush this new opponent met with another ear-splitting flash of braided leather. She backed away slowly, cautiously, her feral eyes switching back and forth between the demon hunter and her former prey. Grant climbed to his feet and began hurling stones at the creature, launching taunting threats at the beast along with the projectiles.

It’s actually working, Trevor thought. That crazy wizard might just know what he’s doing after all!

The lycan turned and ran, scurrying claw over paw past the energetic Grant. She stumbled down the narrow channel away from the duo, but made it only fifty meters before realizing her mistake. Sypha slid down the embankment and cut off her escape.

The werewolf howled in frustration and crouched low to the stream bed, obviously ready to fight to the death. Trevor had warned the mage of just such a danger. But Sypha stood his ground as if expecting this outcome all along. In his hand he now held aloft a wicked looking four-sided star. The object glistened like polished steel despite the darkness, eliciting a promise of pain and death to all unholy terrors which stalked the night. The demon hunter could feel the weapon’s potency even from where he stood.

Their cornered prey scraped angrily at the soft soil beneath her large, curved hands. Suddenly she leapt for the mage’s throat . . . and caught the swiftly tossed weapon in her exposed belly! With an injured yelp, the werewolf slammed face first into the stream, tossing and splashing through the cold water before sliding to a rest at Sypha’s feet.

The mage’s staff appeared from beneath his flowing robes without pause, a swift blur of vicious strikes which rained down on the creature’s head mercilessly. By the time Trevor and Grant caught up to their companion, the lycanthrope’s skull was a ruined, pulpy mash.

“Holy hells,” Grant exclaimed, splashing to a sudden stop before the sight. “You showed that beastie you were the right boss of him, you did!”

The mage conjured his incandescent ball of light once again above their heads, flooding the stream bed with its bright orange illumination. With no apparent sign of wariness, Sypha bent down and tore the cross out of the dead creature’s stomach.

“It was a properly executed plan,” he intoned simply. “Thank you both for the opportunity to practice my skill.”

Trevor wondered if the man was thanking them, or the beast he had just slaughtered.

“What sort of weapon is that?” He pointed at the large star in the mage’s hand. From this close, he saw clearly now that it was in the true shape of a Holy Cross—ringed by an edged, sharpened band of steel.

Sypha held out the object for both men to see. “It’s a chakram,” he rasped, “a prized weapon among tribesmen in the Orient. Combined with the sign of the crucifix, it’s perfect against all manner of unholy beasts. And when properly cast, it strikes a target before returning to the wielder. I suppose I got carried away in the moment, however. That was not a very noble end, even for such a misbegotten creature.”

“Ingenious,” Grant murmured appreciatively at the sight of the cruciform weapon. “What will they think up next?”

“Indeed,” Trevor said. “Although, you might have explained to us beforehand why it was so important to lure and kill the beast. We have more important matters which concern us this foul evening, sir.”

“I first came across the lycan’s tracks on my way to investigate the Cyclops’ whereabouts,” Sypha explained. “I promised myself I would destroy her upon completion of that task. But as you of course know, my plan was not executed as intended. An oversight which I am proud has been rectified thanks to you both.”

Grant’s eyes went huge. “You used us so you can feel better about yourself? You’ve got quite the hairy pair on, don’t you mister?”

Trevor appraised their cowled companion knowingly. “I sense you had another purpose for this detour. Am I correct, sir?”

Sypha was bending over the carcass once more, pulling at the fur and examining it closely. “I’m guessing you packed light for your quest, master Trevor? I can tell by the way your pack moves upon your back when you walk.” The masked face turned up toward him. “I suspect you never imagined this quest would last very long.”

“Now that you mention it,” Grant said thoughtfully, “it does appear we’ve been expending ourselves overmuch lately. And we haven’t even reached the castle proper yet!”

“Precisely,” Sypha replied. “I expect our labors will only increase tenfold the nearer we approach that vampire’s cursed fortress.”

Trevor crossed his arms. “And your point being?”

“The point being, sir, that we shall need our nourishment to keep us going when all reserves are depleted. Do you have provisions?”

“Some salted goat and a half loaf of bread,” he replied, then stopped short with terrible realization. “Wait, you’re not suggesting?” His gaze fell to the hirsute corpse at their feet.

Grant followed his eyes—then leapt backward, one hand covering his mouth in horror. “Oh-ho! But . . . but that’s disgusting!”

Although the cowl and mask effectively hid the man’s features, Sypha appeared to regard the two of them with disbelief.

“I’ll have you both know,” he began in a reproachful tone, “leg of werewolf is a delicacy. Not to mention its recuperative properties are legendary in the field.”

“I don’t know of which field you speak of,” Trevor replied pointedly, “but I’ve heard of no such stories in my travels. And I’ve been places.”

“No doubt you have, my lord. Trust me: I’ve had it before. With the right herbs it’s actually tasty, if perchance a bit gamey.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Grant said, groaning. “How can you suggest we eat one of these beasties? Aren’t they still human? Lad, I might be a man o’ the sea accustomed to long stretches with no proper grog between ports—but I’m no cannibal!”

Sypha actually laughed outright, a hollow and grating sound unlike anything Trevor ever heard before.

“No, master Grant. I mean . . . yes, some have been known to transform into wolves at the advent of a full moon. It’s a rare affliction, one that is usually brought about after some poor unfortunate’s been bitten by a real lycanthrope. However, such is not the case with this ‘beastie’ here. This one’s a true creature of the wood, more akin to actual wolves than men. It just so happens to walk upright.”

“And hungers for human flesh,” Trevor added.

Sypha nodded. “Yes, this is correct.”

“I don’t know, lad,” Grant said dubiously. “I still want no part o’ this madness.”

“That’s quite alright, master Grant,” the mage rasped. “No doubt you shall have chance to change your mind before the night is through. If I can ask but one indulgence from you?”

The shorter man eyed him suspiciously. “What?”

The arcane practitioner held out a slender hand, palm opened upward. “May I please borrow your dagger, sir? Skinning a werewolf is tough business.”

The blood appeared to drain from the sailor’s face. White as a sheet, his hand trembled as he handed over the requested weapon.

“What ails you, Grant?” Trevor inquired innocently. “Surely you don’t expect a delicacy like leg o’ werewolf to prepare itself?”

The sailor blanched again and appeared to teeter on the balls of his bare feet. “If you lot will excuse me now,” he announced, voice quavering and eyes unfocused. “I believe I shall take a spell over by yonder tree, where I will spend the next hour introducing it to the insides o’ me stomach.”

The mage’s hood followed the man as he climbed up the muddy slope of the streambed slowly. Then, with a regrettable shake of his head, returned to the messy task at hand.

* * * * *

What's funny is: this scene isn't actually in the game. But I felt it was necessary to build a sense of teamwork between my characters before they face some big time challenges ahead when they reach the actual castle. Also, "leg o' werewolf" is an inside joke for gamers, and I thought it would be fun to take that and expand on it here.

Sounds yummy, doesn't it? What? Don't look at me like that!

Never Late

2011-11-16T09:52:00.000-05:00

Another thing some of you might not already know about me, although it's possible I've blogged about this before:

I'm a stickler for punctuality!

I've been told that this is a very Virgoan thing, although I don't hold much stock in astrological signs. But, yes, you can call it another one of my pseudo super powers. With rare exception, I am almost never late. I'm also almost never obscenely early. I tend to arrive at pre-arranged engagements precisely on the dot. I guess I'm a lot like Gandalf when he remarks:

"A wizard is never late, Frodo Baggins. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to!"

Except I think he meant this as someone who lives outside the rules, creating his own time as it were. I, on the other hand, am always conscious of the clock. You can almost call it an OCD, really. But I don't. I simply find it disrespectful to never show up on time. It's bad enough to do it for important events like interviews, meetings, etc., but I extended this rule to casual social gatherings as well. When my friends and I decide to meet, I'm always the one who arrives precisely at the time specified. Which also means I'm usually the one waiting for everyone else to show up. A friend of mine recently shared this funny photo on Facebook:

See, this is the very antithesis of me. I actually despise this cavalier attitude toward time that so many people seem to share. Sometimes I want to yell: GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER! It's annoying as hell to agree on a time only to end up waiting 30 minutes for the other party to show up. Grrrrrr! And in the workforce, this is a huge no-no. Nothing screams unprofessional more than showing up late on a consistent basis.

But yeah, I take it to the extreme sometimes. I know I have a problem. Case in point: If I show up at a place, say, 15 minutes early, I'll go somewhere else until it's almost time and then suddenly appear out of the blue. Because, see, arriving too early is almost as bad as arriving too late to me. This is more so true when it comes to professional meetings. I almost never apply the "too early" rule to social gatherings. I guess this is a holdover from my days of constantly going to job interviews. As someone who now conducts hiring sessions himself, I'm well aware that arriving too early at an interview is not always seen in the best light.

Anyway, how about you? Are you as much a stickler for time as I am? Or are you selfish and march to the ticking of your own effed-up clock? Inquiring minds would like to know.

Boys To Men

2011-11-12T19:28:00.001-05:00

No, relax. This one won't be about that 90s R&B group.

This is about the time a simple tv ad for cola made me sit up and take notice of a particular lady who really needs no introduction if you were a little boy growing up in the late 80s/early 90s. This is the day I went from being a boy to a red-blooded, all-American male . . . and all the raging hormones that went with that. For this is the day I first set eyes on one Cindy Crawford.

You remember the ad, I'm sure. It's the infamous tv spot from Pepsi which played during one momentous Super Bowl back in the early 90s. It has that song playing in the background -- Doris Troy's 1963 hit "Just One Look." It has a fire red Lamborghini, a car maker I would fall in love with. And it stars two precocious youths who just crack me up each time I watch this commercial. I swear, the look on their faces is just priceless!

What, you want to share this trip down memory lane with me? Oh, all right. You know how I can't resist a good video plug here on this blog. So, without further ado . . . here is your blast from the past. Where were you when this first aired?

"It's beauuuuuutiful!"

LOL! Yup, she sure is, kid. She sure is! God, I think I actually blushed watching her down that can like that. HOT DAMN!

Although I have to laugh at those ridiculous 90s shorts. It's takes a truly gorgeous woman to make those ugly things sexy, boy!

Sometime a decade later--perhaps during the 2002 Academy Awards, if I'm remembering correctly--Pepsi aired a new commercial starring Ms. Crawford. Call it an "update" of the first commercial, if you will. Except, this time showing us the new Diet Pepsi. I think she's still got it, don't you? And, look! She's got lines to speak this time, too! My how the times have changed.

This commercial, of course, is nowhere as good as the first. But, then, I don't think it was trying to be. More like an homage to a classic, if anything. And I've since fallen out of my crush for Cindy and moved on to others . . . but yet I can't deny the things that original ad made me feel back when I was a boy on the verge of becoming a man.

Commercials can be great like that sometime, don't you think? Especially the really good ones. Those capture a specific moment in time that, no matter how far into the future you watch them again, always remind you of what you were doing and feeling when you saw them for the very first time.

Now if you excuse me . . . I have a sudden and mighty need for an ice cold can of Pepsi!

Building Your Own PC

2011-11-10T15:59:00.005-05:00

Something you might not know about me:

Over a decade ago, before I started employment at the legal & finance publisher I work for today, I used to be an editorial assistant on 3 national tech magazines: the now defunct Computer Buyer's Guide and PC Upgrade magazines, as well as their sister publication, Laptop Magazine, which still enjoys success today. I was just out of college at the time and, up until that point, had only Mac experience with personal computing. But I learned a lot working on these publications, including the rudiments of building my own Windows-based PC.

Thing is, I've never actually done the deed before. Not on my own dime and in my own space. Also, it's been so many years since I've thought about doing so that the technology has gone up and changed itself in myriad and exciting ways since. To be sure, at its heart building a PC is still the same. You still need the basic components: motherboard (pictured above), CPU, RAM, GPU, hard drive, power supply, heat sink fan, and chassis. Except, of course, nowadays everything is more robust, faster, and way sexier than back in 1999!

Now, I'm not writing this to announce that I will be building my own PC. It's tempting, sure, but after recently ridding my nearly 8-yr old PC of a nasty rootkit takeover and ironing out some other minor issues, it's still running strong. At the time I purchased it back in early 2004, I had customized it with future-proofing in mind, so I'm not quite ready yet to take the plunge and actually attempt to build a new one myself.

However, that time may be coming soon. Maybe within a year, even. In the meantime, I thought I'd post up here on this blog a few really cool resources for the budding new PC builder. It's really not that difficult, but help is always welcome.

And to my friend, Rodney, who may be reading this: no, this is not in response to your recent blog update wherein you state your intent to build your own system. I already know you know what you're doing. This help is more for the novice, in which group I still include myself.

Part of why I'm putting up these resources is to help any of my readers who may be thinking of taking the plunge, but whom also find the whole idea of doing something so "techy" as building your own computer a bit daunting. And the other reason is so that I have a helpful repository that is easy to come back to for my own purposes, should I go this route later next year.

When it comes to building your own machine, as a n00b I can't really recommend a better source of enlightenment than NewEgg.com. It's a great site not only for learning how to properly go about constructing your own computer, but also to purchase the component parts you'll need in such an endeavor. There are other sites out there for this, true. But for ease of use and understanding, I'll stick with Newegg for now.

Newegg also has a convenient video channel you can subscribe to on YouTube, with all sorts of helpful tutorials and showcases for new technology. But I'm going to post up links to 4 videos from the channel that I found to be particularly useful for the purposes of this entry today.

First off:

The Top 10 Tips for Building a Gaming PC.

The title is self-explanatory, but I recommend everyone watch this before attempting to build a PC from scratch. And while this video covers the building of a gaming machine, you can use these general tips when constructing any PC. Even if all you intend to use it for is low-key stuff like web browsing, MS Office, and the occasional movie.

Next up, a 3-part series that really goes in depth as to how to go about getting the deed done:

Part 1.

Part 2.

Part 3.

The first video goes over the list of parts you'll be needing, as well as a general overview of what to expect in this undertaking.

The second video covers the actual installation (note: he's constructing two separate PCs here; one is a higher budgeted machine for performance-minded builders).

The third video covers the software side of things: most importantly the installation of your new PC's OS.

When watching these helpful videos, you'll be prompted to visit Newegg's forums for additional help, or for confirming your parts checklist/compatibility with those in the know. This is a site I would really take advantage of if I were you.

Another helpful place is NeoGAF's open forum thread on building a new PC. Things get a bit nerdy and technical in there, but it's a great resource if you find yourself stuck, or if you encounter problems with your setup.

Lastly, I wanted to post up this helpful chart that's constantly being updated here. I found this chart to be immensely useful. Especially if you have a set budget, or if you know that you want a "good" PC but not necessarily a kick-ass "great" power machine. This guide helps you decide the parts you'll be needing for any of the pre-determined configurations listed. The components are not set in stone, though. This is just a general guide to give you an idea of what you might want, or of what's compatible with what.

And there you have it. Easy, peasy! Personally, I don't believe that this process is beyond anyone reading this to undertake. You save more money for the value you are getting than if you purchased your PC already configured from a 3rd-party vendor. I'm not knocking the 3rd-party vendors, mind you, since I've used them a lot in the past myself and appreciate the convenience. But if you're the type who likes to get things done with your hands, and you have the finances and time to try something new -- then why the hell not do it yourself, right?

Why not indeed!

Don't Be That Person -- Facebook Edition

2011-11-09T15:19:00.002-05:00

Okay, this is my post where I kvetch about all the annoying things you do on Facebook that you probably don't realize are annoying to others, and which you probably shouldn't do. And by "you" I don't mean you, the lovely people who follow this blog. Because you are all cool and not annoying like that.

No, this is a list of Top 10 "DON'Ts" for all those other people on Facebook who annoy the hell out of me. If you happen to be reading this and recognize some of your own shortcomings, don't worry. I've been known to flub a bit on a few of these points as well. This is not meant to be taken THAT seriously, now.

Needless to say, in order to "get" these references, you need to have some passing experience with Facebook, Twitter, MySpace, Friendster or any other form of social networking within the past decade. This behavior has been around for as long as the Internet has existed. Even before then, in fact.

Anyway, here we go!

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1) Don't fish for compliments/sympathy/belly rubs.

This is the person who posts a very vague and ominous sounding status update with the intention of goading her entire friends list into asking for more details, thus fulfilling her narcissistic needs. She might say something like: "Oh, the nerve of some people!" and leave it at that. Which inevitably leads to a bunch of nosy bodies and well-wishers flooding her with comments along the lines of: "Oh, sweetie! R u okay?" or "What happened, mama? Tell me who did it and I'll make him pay!"

Arrgggh! So annoying! Listen people, if something so bad happened to you yet you're willing to go on Facebook to talk about it -- come right out and SAY IT! Don't pussyfoot around with the deets just to be cute. Nobody likes attention whores, but sadly the majority of people on FB are just that. And this goes for men as well. I know the format of the place pretty much sets itself up for attention whoring, but geez -- can you be a little less obvious about it? Whenever one of my friends employs this tactic, I stubbornly refuse to bite the bait. In other words, and using message board parlance . . . I refuse to "feed the troll."

You should, too.

2) Don't post a pic/article/link with no comment attached.

If you spend any length of time on these here Interwebs beyond just quickly checking e-mail, chances are you read your fair share of interesting news items and opinion pieces throughout the day. Same thing with humorous photos you might come across (LOLCats, anyone?). And so naturally your immediate instinct is to share your wonderful discoveries with your friends. Which, you know, is actually one of the founding pillars of Facebook to begin with.

And this is all coolio, dudelio. But I so hate when people link to this stuff on their Facebook profile and offer no commentary or interpretation of their own about what they are asking us to click on. I mean, hello? I come to FB to learn what my friends are thinking, doing, and saying. I don't come to get linked to other sites I might have no interest in opening. I need your commentary to let me know the gist of what it is, and whether or not it's worth my time looking further into it.

I also like to, you know, actually INTERACT with my friends. If you don't provide the opening salvo in what could potentially be an engaging debate, why the hell should I read the article? What, you think I don't already know how to search the Net for my own newsworthy articles and pics? Are you my personal RSS feeder now? Technology already exists for that sort of thing, bro.

3) Don't post private stuff on my Wall that would be better sent to Messages.

In case you might not know this fact about Facebook, friends can write on your personal Wall stuff that will be seen by every one of your other "friends". This is the purpose of the Wall, and should be understood straight off the bat. But too many times I've seen you people post some really private stuff on a friend's Wall and then suffer the consequences for it. And much to the embarrassment of both the intended recipient and all her friends who have now been unwittingly involved in your utter lack of class and common sense, too. Luckily this hasn't happened to me . . . yet. But be certain that there is no faster way to get me to "un" friend you from FB than if you make this mistake. That's what the private messages function is for. It's right there at the very top of everyone's page. Use it.

Posting "happy birthdays" or "Hey, dude, how's it going? Call me sometime!" is acceptable for the Wall. But writing: "Hey, sorry to hear about your sister's abortion. That sucks!" for all the world to see is so not.

Learn to Facebook before Facebooking, n00b!

4) Don't throw a hissy fit when I don't answer your request to chat.

I recently had to bring this to some of my FB friends' attention, so it bears repeating here just in case. Look, to be honest, I don't live on Facebook. At most I check in real quick before moving on to other things like work or writing or plain living my life. And when I say "real quick," I mean 5 to 10 seconds max. I do this throughout the day because I can do so from my phone no matter where I am. It's fast, simple, and I can stay remarkably up to date on my friends lives without actually expending much effort.

However, it also means that by the time you notice me on FB and sent out your chat query, I'm likely gone already. So please stop taking it so personal. Sheesh! Honestly, if I wanted to blow you off I would say so. Politely, of course, but you would hear from me. I would chat back something along the lines of: "Hey, nice seeing you. But I'm actually running out the door and/or just checking in for a split second. Talk to ya later!"

Under no circumstances will I just ignore you just to be a douchebag like that. Sometimes, too, I leave my desk or move on to another website without closing out of FB. So although it might seem like the lights are on in my FB profile, figuratively speaking . . . no one is home. If I missed your message to chat, sorry. But don't come back at me a day later asking me why I hate you or why I'm being so mean. Just, don't.

5) Don't use your kid/cat/favorite celebrity as your profile pic, m'kay?

This is a particular pet peeve of mine, so beware!

Now look, I don't mind seeing pics of the new baby in your life, whether she be of either the human or furry persuasion. it's all good! In fact, if you're okay posting up those pics for all to see in your FB photo album, then I'm more than happy to check them out and comment with the requisite amount of "oooh'ing" and "ahhhh'ing" as is polite.

But for the love of all that's holy, people, please don't use someone else's pic as your own! Grrrr! I understand that you are proud of your accomplishment as a new parent/owner/court determined stalker -- but that doesn't mean you have to change your profile pic to reflect this. Be yourself. Or, if you must, then a pic of you standing next to your boo or pet is acceptable. But when I see your name and then a pic of your newborn baby boy under it . . . that's just plain creepy! Please stop.

6) Don't "friend" me if I don't know you.

Seems obvious, right? But I probably get two new friends request per week from people I've never interacted with a day in my life. Now, to be my Facebook friend it is not necessary that we have met in person. I'm friends with quite a few online associates whom I've never seen in the light of day. But if the only reason you're friending me is because you randomly came across my profile, or because you want to increase your number of friends for bragging rights or whatever . . . then please move on. I can't be bothered.

Sometimes I get friends requests from people who have read The Bimillennial Man and liked what I've had to say, but may not have ever interacted with me in any form beyond lurking here on the blog. This is fine. I will friend you because, in my mind, we have even that tenuous of connections. But please, message me first that this is the reason for why you are friending me. Facebook allows you to do this. Or rather, I should say that I allow you to do this, since I've authorized such in my account settings.

Same thing goes for friends of friends. I will friend you if we happen to have other friends in common. This is not a problem since I always check first to see if we do share friends. And, heck, if I end up hating your guts or thinking you're a sociopath . . . there's always the "un-friend" button anyway. No sweat off my back.

7) Don't flood the front page with your political/social agenda.

Now, I myself have given as good as it gets on the political front on Facebook. Especially during the presidential elections. But I never get carried away with it. When it comes to my Wall postings, I use the general formula of 60%-30%-10%. That is: 60% entertainment or light-hearted drivel (including links, photos, or vids); 30% ranting and raving over some perceived injustice in my life; and 10% soap-boxing. And to be honest, that 10% may be an overestimation, as I generally don't enjoy trying to get people to do stuff they're not already doing on their own.

Some of you, however, I cannot say the same about. Some of my so-called "friends" are actually in danger of being un-friended by yours truly due to the fact that you only ever login to get on your soapbox and preach your agenda and preach it HARD!!! Look, every now and then this is fine. We all have issues we believe in passionately. But when that's the only thing you come on FB to do . . . dude, give it a rest!

8) Don't update your status in a language no one but a handful of your closest friends can speak.

This happens with my foreign originating friends the most, obviously. And I don't have a problem with you speaking your native tongue on FB on occasion. But if 90% of your friends speak English, and only 10% Swahili . . . perhaps you should save your long, rambling Swahili post for private messenger. Putting it up on your Wall makes you look like an uppity snob who's actively thumbing his nose at all his other friends who don't speak the language.

And, again, as with most of the points on this list: if you do this only occasionally, then fine. But when it happens at least once a day, it get's pretty tiring. I can count on half of one hand the number of times I ever put up an all Chinese post on Facebook. Only about .05% of my friends list can understand Chinese, so if I have something to say to them in that language, I'm better off just shooting off a message to them individually. I don't need to show off that I can speak another language, or to display that I know something the rest of my friends probably don't. I mean, are you serious?

9) Don't ask me to help you farm your vegetables.

This is one point I know for a fact that the majority of my FB friends agree with. The issue here are those annoying app games a small fraction of the entire FB community plays, but which ruins the whole experience for the vast majority of everyone else. These games exist to get the player to enlist all their other friends. They often contain rampant attack programming that scans your friends list and then spams the holy hell out of them with numerous requests to join you in your quest to find the perfect tomato crop yield, or mow down the most mafiosos. Or whatever the hell goes on in these games.

You know, it's ironic coming from such an avid gamer such as myself. But, see, I have a place and a time for gaming. And it's definitely not on Facebook! There are these nice, quirky machines called Xboxes and Playstations that can run much better games at a much faster pace and with prettier graphics to boost that are oddly enough NOT connected to Facebook. I know! I'm just a shocked as you are!

Do us all a favor, okay, and disable the "spambot all my friends to hell and back" function on your FB game of choice. And if you cannot do that . . . STOP PLAYING THE GAME! Is it really worth pissing off the majority of your friends list over a digital squash harvest? REALLY???

10) Don't tag me in ANYTHING! Like, EVAR!

Facebook has this particular annoying ability by which you can single out specific friends and attach them to some project, video, or pic you're feeling really warm and snuggly about. Most of the time you find yourself being tagged in some embarrassing photo from your high school days that you didn't even know existed. That in itself is motive for concern. But what's even worse is that being tagged now leaves you open to being notified EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. someone leaves a comment on that particular post or pic. ARRRRGH!

But, you know what? I actually have no problem being tagged in photos. It's when I'm tagged on your soapbox topic of the day that really gets my dander up. Dude, leave me out of your spittle-fueled, vitriolic preaching to the masses! I never signed up for your particular brand of crazy, and have only tolerated it up to this point out of a rapidly dwindling sense of friendship toward you. Keep on tagging my name on stuff I could give a fig about, and I will have to RELEASE THE KRAKEN of unfriendom on you as well. Don't say I didn't warn you.
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Okay, so are we clear on what pisses me off on Facebook now? I hope so, for your sake. Please don't do them anymore. Or at least, cut back a bit. Thanks!

That all being said, though . . . er, feel free to friend request me anytime. :) I'm actually more laid back and accepting than I may seem on this blog. Those who know me know this fact well.

Attack Of The 80s Movies!!!

2011-11-07T16:43:00.002-05:00

Well, apparently I was having a Very Brady 80s weekend or something, because I suddenly got all nostalgic and decided to raid the ol' DVD library to re-watch some timeless classics.

I watched American Ninja II, Karate Kid II, Rocky II, and The Last Dragon.

Sensing a theme here?

Well apparently, aside from having a bad case of "sequel"-itis on my part, they all involve some form of kicking ass! And you know what's funny? I had no idea I was conforming to a trend when I picked these titles. No shit! I thought they were all random choices until RIGHT THIS MOMENT as I started writing this entry. Whoa!

Anyway, it was a good time I had, reminded of days long gone when movies actually made you feel good about yourself -- and had kicking 80s soundtracks to boot! Especially watching Karate Kid II (a very under appreciated film, btw) . . . I was suddenly gobsmacked by that Peter Cetera song from the movie. You know, the one with the really cheesy music video where Pete looks like he's having a cross between a restrained orgasm and a full-on conniption fit as scenes from the movie play out in the background? The song is "The Glory of Love," btw, and personally I think it's one of the best love ballads out there. Each time I hear this, I get all . . . er . . . romantic and stuff. Seriously -- rawrrrrr!

Come on, admit it: you think it's catchy, don't you? It's actually a great song, and I'm not ashamed to admit that it totally rocks my boat. And, damn, that movie is such a huge part of my growing up years! I must have watched it a thousand and one times during my adolescence.

I was also loving, as I always do, the very end of Rocky II. Which, to this day, is still my favorite Rocky bout of all time. I mean, this fight with Apollo Creed was freakin' LEGENDARY! But no more amazing was how it came right down to the very last count. If you watch the clip below, the part that gives me major goosebumps is at the 2:50 mark. The way that wonderful music swells as Rock stumbles around the ring and literally falls into his corner man's arms from sheer exhaustion just . . . *chokes* . . . it gets me EVERY time!

The only thing wrong with this clip is that it stupidly cuts off before an even greater moment in the film when Rocky says to his wife watching from home: "YO ADRIAN! I DID IT!!!" while holding up the belt. That would have made the clip EPIC!

But yeah, I love the Rocky movies! People who write them off as just dumb jock films without properly watching them are doing a huge disservice to some truly great writing, directing, cinematography, choreography, and scoring of films I've ever seen. They're better than you think they are, excluding the fifth movie. Which, let's be honest, was pure turd sauce.

Anyway, how was your weekend? And, hey: don't you miss the 80s? I know it's just my childhood nostalgia talking, but who cares!

The I Inside

2011-11-03T16:35:00.004-04:00

What are you?

*sigh*

The dreaded question. Folks, I can't tell you the number of times I've heard this in my lifetime. Everywhere I go this seems to be the question of utmost fascination when people come across my path:

"You know, I've always wondered: what are you?"

Sounds pretty rude, doesn't it? But this is not an embellishment -- this IS the way it's constantly worded. Sometimes the person doing the inquiring will precede it with a: "I don't mean to be rude, but . . ." And we all know what the "but" means in these statements. The funny thing is, I actually don't get offended by this. Honestly I don't.

However, I must admit to being perplexed a lot of the time. The reason for my confusion is that I don't see other people around me getting asked this question nearly half as much as I do. I try to cut people some slack, though. I mean, I guess to them I must have enigmatic features. I've been told by quite a few folks that I have the type of background that allows me to blend in to a lot of different cultures. And, true to form, depending on where I happen to be or who I'm talking to, the guesses people come up with can cover quite the gamut. But before I list all the different countries I'm supposedly from based on my looks alone, let me put up a personal portrait for reference . . . which I just took with my iPhone:

There. This is me. Not much to see here, right? I think I'm pretty average. But, I shit you not, depending on your own biases, opinions, and experiences, you might have varying interpretations of my background than the next person.

When in the greater NYC area, I'm almost always blanketed as "hispanic." Without fail. Of course, my last name doesn't help, either. When I lived in Vermont for 4 years, I was told I look: Latin American and/or Middle Eastern. When I started learning Chinese, I was even told by people that I look somewhat Chinese. That one's hilarious. But even Chinese people themselves make the mistake, especially when I talk to them in their own language. After the shock wears off, the conversation more often than not follows along these lines:

Them: "Are you Chinese?"
Me: "No."
Them: "But you speak the language so well!"
Me: "Oh, not really. I know very little." (This is a very Chinese response to compliments, btw)
Them: "You must be Chinese. Are you sure?"
Me: "Yes, I'm fairly certain."
Them: "But then one of your parents must be Chinese? You look half-half."
Me: "No, actually they're not."
Them: "Grandparents?"
Me: "Nope. Not there, either. Sorry."

Believe it or not, this is how it almost always goes. Without fail. It's gotten to the point that I think I've developed a complex over it. It makes me hesitant to speak Mandarin to a Chinese person now, only because I don't have time to go through my family lineage right then and there for their benefit.

But look at my face. How the hell do you get Chinese from that? Apparently, though, I look very similar to some Chinese minority groups living in the Western most provinces of the mainland.

When I went to Italy last year, I was told I look Italian. And again, I didn't help my cause by speaking some choice phrases in their own language.

When I was in Turkey, I was told I could pass for Turkish. Although, oddly enough, I also got "Brazilian" a lot the moment we wandered outside of Istanbul and headed south along the coast. I think this is because they love soccer so much in Turkey.

When we honeymooned in Hawaii, I was mistaken for a local by the taxi cab drivers. And when our trip was over and we were on our way to the airport, one cabbie asked us how long our trip away from the island would be. He was surprised when I told him we were tourists.

Here's my theory: I think people see what they want to see. Especially when confronted by a person whom, like me, actually comes from a diverse background. I don't belong to a single race or ethnicity. For me this is a useful trait for blending in when I'm overseas. I don't think I'll ever be identified as American straight off the bat. Not unless I'm wearing my Yankees baseball cap. And even then . . .

For the sake of full disclosure, however, I'm going to list here on this blog my exact background -- oh, the HORROR! This type of thing makes a lot of people uncomfortable for some reason. But relax, I've had nothing but years of practice disclosing these details. It's like nothing to me now.

So, here we go:

My father (who I never grew up with and hardly ever see) was born in Santo Domingo, in the Dominican Republic. His family came to this country when he was in his late teens, but because I hardly knew him I have zero knowledge of Dominican culture or the Spanish language. Whatever Spanish I learned came from six years of instruction in public school. Pretty much the same as anyone else growing up in NYC.

My father's family, however, is itself very diverse. In addition to Afro and Caribbean Indian influences, they also have Italian and *gasp* Asian influences somewhere in there. I say "Asian" because it's hard for me to get a straight answer from anyone on my father's side. It doesn't help that, even to this day, the majority of them still don't speak English.

As for my mother's side of the family; that, too, is a pretty diverse tree. The majority of my mother's ancestry is Scots-Irish and Germanic. Mostly the former. That much I know for sure. There's also a surprisingly large amount of Native American influences in her gene pool as well, which some say I've inherited. On her grandfather's side, there are people who are straight up still part of the Cherokee nation today.

You know, everyone always sees the Latin side of my genes in my face, but it's surprising how much of my mother I retain in looks. My cheekbones are actually hers. As well as my stare. When I glare at someone, that's straight up my Mom! My thick, wavy hair is also hers -- my father has very thin, straight hair. My eyebrows, eye and hair color, lips, and general cranial shape are my father's, though. In a certain light I'm his spitting image. In another, I'm completely not. Yes, very enigmatic I know.

Curiously, my nose is a composite of both my parents. Neither one has the exact same shape as me, although the length of the bridge is all my mom's side of the family.

And there you have it. Now you know why I look the way that I do. And why I don't identify with any single background. However, this is all on the outside. When you get to the *real* me -- the David Batista on the inside -- I have a very definite ethnic identity. Which is to say: I'm 100% American.

No, I'm not trying to be funny. I grew up solely on my mother's side of the family. When she died, it was her mother and sister who took us in and continued raising us. Every one of my cultural references -- food, speech patterns, holidays, religion, jokes -- comes from a largely British/Presbyterian/Anglo-whatever backdrop, transfused through two centuries of living in this country.

Today, people try their damnedest to pigeon-hole me into something Hispanic, which is disingenuous. In looks? Yes, perhaps. In genes? Only half so. But in culture? Sorry, I'm the least Hispanic person you can possibly find on this planet. I had to learn the language the hard way just like everyone else who does not come from that background.

And you know what? I'm perfectly fine with that. I love the family that raised me. I abhor the family which ignored me. How hard is that to understand? In this day and age where everyone seems to want to be something they're not, I'm not ashamed of my rather WASPy background. It's all I've known, and it's the culture where my heart belongs. So, sorry, but I won't be marching in any Dominican or Hispanic heritage parades. I won't even eat the food all that much, since to me it is a foreign food which I eat with the same frequency as any other foreign food like Chinese or Ethiopian.

I'm not dissing Dominican culture. Or any Latin-based culture, for that matter. I just get annoyed when people assume I belong to that whole scene, and then feel sorry for me when they realize I don't. It's not your life, it's mine. And I'm happy with exactly who I am -- both on the outside as well as the inside!

Sorry this entry turned into such a long diatribe. And if it strayed into uncomfortable waters for some, than I apologize for that as well. But this is me, take it or leave it.

I just thought I'd clear this up in the one space where my voice can be heard by a small few. My regular readers don't know this, but recently I've been asked about my background by no less than four separate individuals in the space of a week. I don't know why it's so important to know my ethnic makeup since, as you can certainly tell by now, I do not identify with the culture you may think I look like.

So, there.

P.S. -- The title of this entry is taken from this favorite sci-fi novel of mine from back in the day.

He Giveth, And He Taketh Away . . .

2011-10-31T22:56:00.000-04:00

So, only 2 days after putting up this post about the surprise snow storm we got here in NYC . . . it's almost all gone! Well, yes, I did predict it wouldn't stick around for long (no pun intended), but it still sucks. Here is a panoramic I took outside my bedroom window earlier this afternoon:

Aside from the very small patches of white you can still see, you would never know our area got nearly 6 inches of the white stuff over the weekend. I mean, look at all that green! Luckily for me the temps have not risen too much. We'll be in the low 50s for most of the week. And of course, it IS the start of November tomorrow. Things will only continue to get colder and snowier from here on out. Hip-hip HOORAY!

Oh, and yeah . . . Happy Halloween, all! It's not really a holiday I give a rat's ass about, but all my other adult friends seem to have lost their minds today so -- have fun! :)

Now, bring on Thanksgiving!

Suddenly In The Mood To Re-Watch Game Of Thrones

2011-10-29T19:56:00.000-04:00

. . . Because, Winter is HERE!

Okay, okay -- no, it's still Fall. Let me not get carried away. Heck, it's still OCTOBER for crying out loud! It never snows in NYC in October. Ever! And yet it did today.

Many of you know how much I love Winter. And snow. And so today it was like Christmas came early for me. Completely threw my body for a loop! All morning long I kept thinking it was much later in the year than it actually was. It all began shortly after 11 am. I looked out my windows and saw:

Holy HELLS! Now, yes, before some of you start: I know this is nothing compared to the Midwest or whatever. But that's not the point. Trust me, we're not strangers to snow here in New York, either. No, the point is that it is only October 29th. It's not even Halloween yet!

Another thing is, the stupid forecasters got it all wrong. They kept going on and on all last night about how only the surrounding areas of upstate New York and New Jersey would get snow, and that NYC would have mostly rain and ice during the day today before turning over to SOME snow near midnight. Well, guess what? They were WRONG! And not only was it snowing so early in the day, but it started to pick up furiously less than an hour later:

Wow! Now that's what I like to see! I was so happy I didn't know what to do with myself. Fortunately (or, maybe the best word is UNFORTUNATELY, according to my wife), we had to go out in this stuff! Yup, Lisa and I had already made plans for today, and so off we went. I couldn't get over the fact that we were busting out the winter clothes so soon, too -- coats, boots, gloves and scarves! The temp reading was a nice 34 degrees out. In October. Before we left, I took one last pic. You can already see how it's starting to stick and accumulate, despite the fact that the trees and grass are still green here:

All in all, this was a delightful surprise for a Saturday. It greatly lifted my spirits, and at the same time I got to witness some pretty sketchy looking driving on the roads from drivers who should really know better about handling themselves in snow. I drove through not one but TWO freakishly cruel blizzards last Winter and survived, so I felt like I was a master at it by now. Today's snow was great, but in actuality it really only amounted to a dusting. Child's play, really. I imagine it will all be gone by mid-afternoon tomorrow, too. Bummer!

Still, I find myself daring to hope this means we'll be getting an early and ferocious Winter. I honestly thrive on such chaos, it seems. I absolutely get off on it!

Yes, I said it before and I'll say it again: I am WEIRD! :)

Hope all of you are having a fun weekend as well. Unless of course you're Texas Rangers fans, then . . . uh, yeah.

Last Night I Flew Again

2011-10-27T10:12:00.001-04:00

Or, maybe it was early this morning. I can never tell.

Anyway, I had the most interesting of dreams last night. I, and two other unnamed friends, were trapped in a world where humans had been enslaved by vampires. In this dream, I remember being in a dark urban alley, where the tenement buildings all around me soared to skyscraper heights. It was as if I was in the Bronx (where I still live to this day), but all the buildings were as tall as the Empire State building now.

And I had to get out of there! For some reason, I was supposed to rendezvous with my friends at some big deal vamp hangout spot. So I started to rise up from the ground, higher and higher toward the sky. As I flew upward, hands reached out from the windows of the apartments all around me. They were human slaves, begging for me to bite them and give them the "gift" that would make them immortal. They were the downtrodden, living in ghettos meant to keep them down. Vampires were the elite, and these people were assuming that since I could fly, I was a vampire too.

But I was not.

So, not knowing how to help these people, I rose higher and higher until I was above the rooftops under a brilliant white moon. As usual when I fly in my dreams, I felt so free and wondrous up there -- all alone and removed from it all. But then I remembered my purpose, and started to fly in the direction of where I was to meet my friends. I remember being afraid that the real vampires would see me flying and come after me, so I hurried.

Eventually I discovered that the "hang out" of these elite vamps was this posh NYC-type restaurant at the top of the tallest tower in the city. Again, everyone assumed I was a vampire since I flew in rather than took the stairs, so I didn't have any trouble getting in. When I got to the table on the terrace where my friends were already waiting (who, curiously, still remained nameless and faceless) I got the impression that they had been able to get in by pretending to be my human thralls. One friend, a girl, had somehow faked puncture wounds on her wrist and wore makeup to appear more like a person who's been drained regularly.

Freaky!

Anyway, we started talking about why we were on this world. Apparently we were inter-dimensional travelers come to liberate this world from the vamps. So, from that I took that this dream had sci-fi leanings, and not strictly horror. I still don't know how I was able to fly--except that I always have the ability to fly in my dreams. I wrote about this peculiarity before here on this blog.

Anyway, some officious looking vamps came in and asked to see our credentials or something. But just as the dream was getting good, my alarm clock woke me up and I realized I had to get to work.

Don't you just HATE when that happens?

LOL! Anyway, that was my interesting dream this morning. Or last night. And, yes, for me this dream was a lot of fun and not scary. Nightmares for me don't involve vampires or zombies and such. Those types of dreams are always fun. No, real nightmares are if I dream about, like, losing my job or where I get kicked out onto the street and have to find shelter somewhere. Those are the dreams I don't want to be having. But any dream where I get to fly is a lot of fun. I love flying so much! It's the only superpower I've ever wanted. Well, that and invincibility. Since, after all, it would suck balls if I could fly at mach 5 and then end up slamming into a bird, or a jet, or a building or something and breaking my neck. What would be the fun in that, huh?

So, yeah, in case you didn't already know . . . I'm weird.

Or, as I like to say: I'm an SF writer! You didn't think we all dream normal mundane dreams now, did you? Tsk, tsk.

Dude, Don't Be That Dude.

2011-10-24T16:50:00.003-04:00

Just a random observation I'm making about the workplace. And by workplace, I am of course referring to my own. I've worked in other offices, though, and have witnessed the same behavior. So I'm sure there's some measure of truth to this beyond the personal.

Anywho . . .

How many opportunities are there for men to make fools of themselves at the office? PLENTY, it seems! I don't know why this is the case, but I notice that anytime you have a reasonably attractive and/or fit female co-worker at the workplace, she becomes an instant target of some of the most dorkable kiss-assers we have employed. And the woman doesn't even have to be a knockout by any stretch of the imagination. Seriously, there's no more criteria beyond the fact that she simply needs to not be, well, gross . . . and all the pathetic Y-chromosome losers come out of the woodwork! It's become a joke, I tell ya.

I was walking on the far side of the office (we all have one) where I hardly ever venture to since most of the people I need to interact with are very close to where I am. But while I was there, I noticed this one guy whom some of us have nicknamed the "Stalker." Stalker never seems to have any work of his own to do, apparently, because he spends most of his day just wandering from cubicle to cubicle of all the young presentable female co-workers on hand.

And how do I know he's a pathetic loser? Well, because of all I just described above! I mean, who the hell has the time to do this? What is the point? Socializing is one thing, but there's a limit. Hovering around a poor girl's desk making the most inane small talk while she obviously has much better things to do--you know, like WORK!--is just plain sad. This guy will stand there talking for 15 whole fucking minutes about the dumbest topics.

"Oh, hey, I see you like Mad Men. Oh, heh, that's a rad show." No joke, this is an actual conversation starter I overheard from Stalker. The dude has zero game, yet he hovers and hovers as if expecting to badger the woman into giving in and going out with him. Or perhaps he's hoping they'll take pity on his lovesick, puppy-dog eyes and throw him a bone?

Look, I'm not god's gift to dating. Far from it. It's been so long, I wouldn't even know how to go about the whole ordeal these days. But one thing I do know: no girl's attracted to needy. Or to desperate. Or to, well--pathetic! Guys like Stalker here need to take the hint: if you're constantly wandering over to some cute girl's desk, but she only responds to each of your sentences with monosyllabic vowel sounds . . . she might be hoping you'll go away. If you ask about her weekend, but she doesn't ask you about yours: maybe you're barking up the wrong tree. And if she never comes around to YOUR desk for idle chit-chat despite all the many times you've come to hers, you might have to reconsider that dream vacation for two you're thinking of casually bringing up to her when you can only drum up the courage (sometime next decade).

Because, DUDE . . . she's just not that into you.

Unfortunately, Stalker is not the only such hopeless case here. I was just observing this fact today because we have more than 3 on my floor. These guys show up at random to a co-worker's cubicle from clear across the office, or even from an entirely different floor! Yes, they go all out of their way to visit this person, even though the subject of said attention never returns anything but the most basic of human courtesies.

Ding-dong. Hellooooooo? That's your hint, McFly!

In a way, though, it makes me sad for women. Imagine having to be placed in a position to either endure the creepy stalker guy at the office, or be the bad person and have to tell him off? Because this is normal, every day life for most women at the workplace. There is always that one guy at the office who never leaves you alone. Sometimes, even, he might take it a step too far and the human resources people have to get involved. Yes, this has happened at my office a couple of times.

Guys, WTF? Where is your self respect? I'm sorry, I'm human just like the rest of you. But no woman, no matter how hot, is worth the loss of my self respect. And that goes double at the workplace where your job can literally be on the line. The way I see it, these "stalkers" at my job are only a Victoria's Secret gift certificate away from the handcuffs being slapped on.

I know you're desperate for some love, but there are so many better--not to mention successful--ways to go about it. My rule of thumb is to just be casual and do your own thing. Never go out of your way to bug someone who has other things to do. Say hi in passing, or ask them out to lunch if you must. Not in a date-y sort of way, but just as a friendly gesture. Especially if you know you two have something in common. If she doesn't seem receptive, then LEAVE IT THE HELL ALONE!

No, seriously.

And, I realize the door swings both ways. I know that if there is a reasonably hot, well-dressed heterosexual male at the office that he can conceivably become the target of his very own obsessed female stalker. Believe it or not, I've been there but NOT done that! Still, how often do you see this? How often do you see a woman at the office going from cubicle to cubicle harassing all the reasonably attractive guys around? Again, I'm not saying it doesn't happen, but it's very rare.

I'm sure a sociological study can be done on this, if one has not been done already. But in the meantime . . . sound off in the comments section if you know of the type, ladies. Or, to my male readers, if you have observed this behavior yourself. I won't insult my male readers by asking if perhaps you're this stalker person at your office. I know no creepies read my blog. Am I right? :)

Drake's Next Adventure

2011-10-19T21:12:00.002-04:00

So, in the midst of finishing up Gears of War 3 for the Xbox 360 and preparing to start up Batman: Arkham City on the PlayStation 3, I learned that we're only 2 weeks away from perhaps the greatest game of all time releasing on November 1st . . . Uncharted 3: Drake's Deception!!!

Yes, I know. Blasphemy! For surely, Batista, the new Batman game is the undoubted king this year? And you know what? It just may retain that crown, because from what I'm hearing so far this Batman game is just about better than sliced bread! And I've only played the first 10 minutes, but I'm inclined to agree so far.

HOWEVER!

The Uncharted series has always been a stellar, shining example of Triple-A game making. Seriously, each title has gone on to win tons of awards and plenty of Game-of-the-Year titles (GOTY) from various reporting agencies in the industry. The last game, Uncharted 2, was seriously the best game I ever played! And from what I'm seeing so far, this third installment is pulling out all the stops. Here, check it out for yourself. The launch trailer below was just released, and I'm PSYCHED beyond belief! Hoooo, boy!

In case you don't know the story, Nathan Drake is a treasure hunter descended from the historical Sir Francis Drake. His illustrious ancestor was quite busy in his time tracking down various legendary artifacts across the globe, and he's bequeathed the same unquenchable thrill-seeking genes down through the family line, it would seem. The Uncharted games are sort of a cross between the Indiana Jones movies and the Tomb Raider games. No, really, there is no better way to to put it. The series is just THAT much fun! If you're a gamer and you own a PS3 but you haven't yet played these games . . . seriously, dude, what the hell are you waiting for? Do you honestly want to miss out on THIS much greatness?

The trailer above wowed me, though. I knew the game was going to be great, but I had no idea it would look this fantastic! I didn't think it was possible to improve on the visuals of the second game . . . but now I eat humble pie, because this is ridiculously gorgeous! And the story looks soooooo intriguing. Gave me goosebumps!

Sure, I'll be missing out on it myself since I'll be busy playing Arkham City. I usually save the Uncharted games for the holidays, though, so this is actually coming out at just the right time. Hopefully by December 25th I'll have completed the Batman game. It's going to be close, but I'm sure I can pull it off.

Oh, and one more note on this whole Uncharted thing . . .

A co-worker of mine sent me a link today to this video clip of Harrison Ford playing six minutes of the yet to be released Uncharted 3:

Lucky man!!! But, LOL, it's funny seeing his reaction to the visuals. See, this guy is an ACTOR! He can pretend quite convincingly that this game is blowing his socks off. You can tell he's not a gamer, though, but at least he gives it the ole college try. This was part of a Japanese promo event to sell the game in the Land of the Rising Sun. Apparently they all love themselves some Harrison Ford. But, I guess: who doesn't love the man, right?

Han Solo is still cool after all these years. Bet!

Weekend Update, Post Mortem

2011-10-17T20:28:00.002-04:00

This blog post was to go up last night . . . but I completely dropped the ball. So, you get it a day late. Sorry.

You ever have one of those weekends where you have so much planned, but then so much other crap comes up that you get none of your original plans done? Yeah, that was me. Nothing bad, I must add, but I sure did get a lot of distractions to prevent me from doing what I wanted to do. Of primary suckitude was not getting to continue working on the novel. I had planned to bang out an additional chapter or two, but instead I ended up getting squat done. Oh well, I'm not too stressed about it. Work is coming along nicely on that, and I'm still ahead of the pace I had set a few months back. So, in the long run, I doubt this will be a major setback. As always, you can keep monitoring the word counter at the top of the page to see my progress. I'm about 20,000 words in right now, which I think is roughly 7 chapters or so. Nowhere near the end goal of 120,000 words, or course, but I'm not in a race.

Luckily, I did manage to get in my daily workouts. I almost didn't, because when I get majorly distracted by outside influences it can make it damn nigh impossible to find the motivation. But find it I did. For those wondering, I work out 6 days a week rain or shine. I really don't play around, and never really had a problem with motivation. My schedule is usually:

Mon. and Weds. -- weight training and 3 mile run (1 hour)
Sun., Tues. and Thurs. -- 4 mile run on treadmill with variable incline (35 mins)
Friday -- Rest day.
Saturday -- weight training and calisthenics (45 mins)

Saturday is always my big day since I workout with much heavier weights than I do during the week. So I was glad I forced myself to get that in this weekend. I always get cranky if I miss my Saturday workout.

Additionally, although many of you did not know this, I've been on a juice fast for the past 3 weeks. Yesterday was my last day. This was my first time undertaking such a thing, and I did it primarily as a cleanse. I had no intention of losing weight on it since I'm in very good shape as it is, but in the end I lost 6 pounds anyway. Wow. The "juice" I drank was nothing more than fresh fruits and vegetables put through the grinder. 100% natural, with nothing else added except some wheat grass and spirulina powder for an added energy boost. Still I'm extremely careful with my daily nutrition--I keep charts and everything! So I made it a point to make sure I got a more than adequate dose of protein, too, throughout the day. I'm very particular about my carbs to protein balance since I work out a lot and it's very important to me that I burn fat and build muscle at the same time.

So, yeah, after 3 weeks of eating like a vegetarian hooked up to a tube, I lost a bit of body fat and actually GAINED muscle mass. It's ridiculous, I tell ya! But I feel and look great. Today marks the start of real food, which my body had no problem adjusting to apparently. I guess because I'm still eating healthy anyway. I did have one lapse around a week back when my good buddy GYSC came to visit New York City for his first time. We watched the Jets vs. Pats game at a crazy little Irish pub in Hell's Kitchen, then I introduced him to good ol' NY pizza at this really cool spot I know nearby. But, see, I had already factored in at least one "cheat" day during this juice cleanse--and that happened to be it. So it was actually no big deal. I'm good at not guilt-tripping myself like that. It's how I've managed to keep in sound body and mind all these years. :)

So, at least that didn't get side-railed this weekend. What else?

Oh, yeah, I finished up playing Gears of War 3. You can read all about it in the "Now Playing" sidebar to the right of this page. And just in time for Batman: Arkham City to come out tomorrow! I will most likely pick the game up on Wednesday, however, and won't get around to playing it until this Friday. I have a busy week ahead of me, including catching up on some of the stuff I didn't get to do this weekend, like read and update my iPhone to the newly released iOS 5.0 update. That's going to take me a while to get through since it will erase everything on my phone and I need to make sure I do an adequate backup of all my settings and files first before I commit. Wish me luck!

So, that's all the news that's fit to print in my neck of the woods. How was your weekend?

Movie Trailers That OWNed Me, Big Time!

2011-10-14T23:00:00.005-04:00

So, if you are big into genre movies like I am, no doubt you've already heard the hooplah surrounding the new trailer for Marvel's The Avengers movie. It was just released earlier this week and geeks are going batshit crazy over it. And I'm one of 'em! The film releases next May and will showcase some of the big blockbuster names in the Marvel universe who have already had their own standalone movies prior to now: Iron Man, Thor, The Hulk, Captain America. Now imagine all that bad-assery teamed together in one flick. What do you get? A kick ass-o-pacalypse, that's what!!!!

So, yes, I'm am very geeked out at the moment. And if you want to check out the trailer and see what all the fuss is about for yourself, click here. May 2012 can't come fast enough!

But it got me to reminiscing about other movie trailers in the past that got me seriously amped up. Now, I'm not talking good movie trailers -- or even great ones. No, I'm talking FUCKING great movie trailers! These are the promos that, before I even really new what the movies were truly about, had me literally tingling from head to toe with excitement. Yeah, I know it sounds like hyperbole and all, but trust me--this really was my reaction to each and every one of these!

I'm going to embed clips of each movie's trailer below, followed by a brief explanation of why they--more than most--stand out to this day as key defining moments in my movie going experience. By now, of course, those of you who know me should know that I'm a huge movie buff. I own close to 800 DVDs and Blu-rays at home! It's positively SICK, I tell ya! But before they arrived on my shelves, I first had to have seen the movies in theaters. And before even that, first came the promotional trailers. This is what I wish to focus on here. These things can be works of art, I tell ya.

And so, here we go:

Star Wars - Episode I: The Phantom Menace

This is the very first trailer I can honestly say had me almost close to tears. Not necessarily because it is god's gift to cinematic promos or anything (although it is pretty awesome, still), but because it had been so long since the world had been blessed with a brand spankin' new Star Wars movie that . . . I don't think my body quite knew how to react! A wave of giddiness washed over me, and I went completely numb. I simply could not process that I was living in an age where the Star Wars saga was actually continuing. See, I never thought George Lucas would get around to making these! And so, in the dark confines of the movie theater, I heard that familiar music start up. And then . . . oh, and THEN! The light sabers!!! Each time I heard that familiar whoom-whoomp buzz of the Jedis' weapons in the trailer, the little kid in me stood up and high-fived the sky! This vid owned me like nothing else could back in 1999.

Highlander: Endgame

I think it's safe to say that the Highlander franchise has defined my life. Not only is the original movie in my top 5 films of all time, but the television series is THE favorite tv show of yours truly. I'm talking at the very top of the list, folks. Star Trek: The Next Generation is second, and (the new) Battlestar Galactica is third. But Highlander: The Series is and always will be my number one. By the time Endgame was ready to hit theaters in 2000, however, the show had been off the air for nearly 2 years. 2 friggin years without my fix! I was in some serious withdrawal, with nothing but my professional VHS tapes of each season to keep me from completely going off the deep end. So when I saw this trailer for the first time--yes, it almost happened again! I almost broke down with tears of joy. I couldn't believe what my eyes were seeing! The protagonist from the first movie (Connor MacLeod) teamed up with his kinsman (Duncan MacLeod), who had been the focus of the tv show. For shit serious??? Only in my wettest of fanboy dreams had this pairing been conceivable up to this point! And watching this trailer, you could not tell me this movie was not going to be the AWESOME sauce!

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

Oh. My. God. This right here is the pinnacle of movie achievement to me. This one movie. Well, actually, the entire trilogy as a whole is my favorite movie EVER. Yes, you heard me right. I hold the Lord of the Rings trilogy as the best cinematic achievement of all time. It's in higher esteem, to me, than any other trilogy. Higher even than the original Star Wars films, and higher than the Indiana Jones trilogy, too (Jedi wave: "there IS no fourth movie!"). And the very first inkling I had that this would be so was when I took Lisa to the movies in 2000 and we saw a cardboard standout of Elijah Wood as Frodo Baggins holding the One Ring in his open palm. I was sucker-punched! I vaguely recall babbling to Lisa a brief summary of the books while we waited for our popcorn, and why they are considered the be-all and end-all of genre fiction to this day. Then we saw the trailer, and I'm sure I fainted. There is just too much goodness thrown into this trailer for Rings fanatics to geek-gasm over. The look of the ring being spot on PERFECT, for one. The Nazgul, too! Legolas walking ON TOP of the snow whilst the rest of the Fellowship trundles through it. The swarming Orcs! The nasty Uruk-hai! And the music, too, was just so damn RIGHT for the trailer. Seriously, it all just simply OWNS! But perhaps the single most awesome thing about this official promo--the point that so perfectly encapsulates my undying love for this film--is near the very end when Gandalf stands defiant on the bridge of Khazad-dûm and proclaims to the approaching Balrog: "You. Shall Not. PASS!!!" Oh yes, I definitely blacked out after this point.

The Matrix: Reloaded

You're wondering: why this is on the list and not the original? Well, see, the original Matrix came out of nowhere for me when it released in 1999. I had never seen a trailer leading up to its release, and therefore knew nothing about it when it did eventually hit theaters in the Spring. I was visiting a college friend of mine in the city, and she asked me if I wanted to go with her to see this movie called "The Matrix." Like I said, I didn't know squat about this film except that it was suddenly getting a lot of buzz recently and that it was sci-fi related. Fast forward 4 years later and The Matrix owned my soul! Between then and 2003, I had watched the original movie a billion times before the sequel came out. But a few months prior to that, this trailer for it hit. And because I was such a die hard fanatic of the franchise by now, when this trailer ran in the theater I was absolutely blown out of my seat! It was simply AWE-MAZING!!! If I thought the first one kicked ass, this sequel looked like it was going to do that AND chew bubble gum at the same time! My favorite moment? Morpheus hopping atop the truck and taking off his shades at the same time. How fucking BADASS is that?

Kill Bill - Vol. 1

Quentin Tarantino is DA MAN. There's no denying it. Look that phrase up in the dictionary and you'll find a picture of him there, alongside perhaps Samuel L. Jackson. I've been on the QT bandwagon since Reservoir Dogs first came out. Pulp Fiction was the SHIT, and Jackie Brown was an understated masterpiece according to me. So when I heard he was teaming up with Uma Thurman once more--and in an action-y homage to kung-fu and exploitation movies of the 60s and 70s--I had an inkling that brilliance was in the making. But HOLY BALLS!!! I had no idea the movie that would come out of that fusion mix of awesomeness would be this amazing. And this trailer right here killed it for me! I was down and out for the count, I was. I wanted to see this film right THEN AND THERE! The music is awesome, and this promo is just brimming with more Japanese sword-slicing goodness than you can shake a bloodied katana at! Every single shot in this clip is pure genius, in my opinion. I mean, GENIUS! When the first film eventually came to theaters, I was in a gibbering lather for the opening credits to begin rolling.

Avatar

Ah, we come to the last of the list. The last of the trailers that were such milestones in my life. This one was surprising because I had no idea until almost when the movie was upon us that it would be SO good! I had heard rumblings all year long, sure. But I brushed it all aside. I mean, James Cameron was good, but no way could he ever top Aliens or Terminator 2. Or could he? Well, not until I saw this trailer did it finally dawn on me the epic achievement in awesomeness that was about to come moviegoers way in December of 2009. Avatar completely blew me out of the water! I had no idea movies could still be made today with the power to wow me as much, if not more, than some of the great brilliant movies of the past. Avatar did that. But before I would find that out for sure, I saw this trailer. And, surprises of all surprises, while watching the clip for the first time I began to feel that sense of wonder we sci-fi readers and writers dream about when we think of SF films yet to be made. This, folks. This right here is the type of movie we dream about. There is just something indelibly magical about this trailer. Something that, in just a couple of minutes, conveys to you the breadth and scope of true genius James Cameron brings to a movie. When the trailer ended, I was owned in every way possible. This was a movie I had already fallen in love with before it even released. And, you know what? It's perhaps the best single movie I've ever seen. Yup, I went there. Deal with it! But first, relive the trailer with me below:

So then, tell me: are any of these trailers your favorite as well? And is there a trailer not on this list that simply reduced you to a mass of goosebumps from head to toe, a piece of promotional footage that made you love a movie so much before it even released that it HURT? Come on, don't be afraid. Tell me all about it in the comments section below.

Autumn Is Officially Here

2011-10-02T20:33:00.001-04:00

Well, for me that is.

I took my wife apple picking this weekend. The weather wasn't looking too great for it Friday night, pouring rain like cats and dogs and all. But bright and early next morning it looked like a doable day for it, so I took out a Zipcar from the nearby garage and we drove about 90 minutes north of NYC to a family orchard in Warwick. I've never been there before, but it was a quaint little place. The smell of trees and all that fresh air reminded me a lot of my college days spent in the northern wilds of Vermont. And although it drizzled on and off the entire time, it was a very nice day for picking apples.

My favorite apple is the Red Delicious variety. Why? Well, because it's neither too tart nor too mushy--two things I absolutely loathe in an apple. A good Red Delicious has a chewy outer skin, crisp and watery inner, and can be eaten practically to the core without oxidizing too badly and getting all brown and gross. My next favorite apple is the good ole Macintosh. That one's a little more sweet than the Red Delicious, but still very good. It has to be very fresh and not overly ripened for me to enjoy one, though. Which is why I never eat Macs in the city. By the time they reach the fruit stands here, they've usually gone too soft.

Luckily for me, the two varieties that were ripe on the trees this time of year (last week of September, early October) are the Red Delicious and Mac types. So I scored big time by going now. Yay me! The dirt roads in the orchards were very muddy, however, so the Nissan Sentra I had rented out for the day had a tough go at it. Everything was going fine, for the most part. We had picked around three bags worth of apples, and were just leaving the farm when the missus decided she wanted to check out a grove of Concords off the side of the road. Me being an idiot, I drove off the road right up under the trees.

Big mistake.

After we had picked a few apples, we got back in the car and I reversed. Only to find the Sentra going nowhere fast. Sonuvabitch! I got out of the car and found the tires mired deep in mud and loose grass. We were stuck! Why oh why didn't I pick a 4WD vehicle instead, I thought. The Sentra didn't even have a lower drive setting--grrrr!

I tried pushing the front of the car while my wife reversed, but still no go. The tires were only sinking deeper. It was one of the most frustrating predicaments I'd ever been in. At one point, I got so bent out of shape pushing at the front bumper that I slipped almost face first into the mud. Do you know what it feels like to have your clothes completely covered in wet mud, and nowhere to go to wash it off or change into another set? I would've settled for a hose at the back of a barn at that point, actually. Not only that, but the mud smelled like manure. Yep, that's right: I smelled like a cow's ass!

But anyway, that was the least of my worries. I still had to figure out how to get the car unstuck. We were out in the middle of nowhere, and God only knew where the main house was. Luckily, I found a stack of hay bales nearby. I grabbed one and lugged it on over to the car. I then proceeded to stuff hay beneath and behind the tires, jamming it in there really nice in the hopes that I could give myself some traction. After several touch and go attempts--by which I mean the car got unstuck and then stuck again numerous times--I finally managed to push the car to some gravelly ground with the help of a few kind strangers who assisted me in pushing.

Unfortunately, the Zipcar was covered in more mud than I was now. Arrgh! There was no way I could return it looking like this. Even worse, I had no choice but to climb back into the driver seat and muddy up the interior now.

*sigh*

Some days it doesn't pay to get out of bed.

But, I took it all in stride I have to say. I drove and found the main area eventually. My wife and I sat down with some other pickers at picnic table and had some apple cider (yum!) and apple cider donuts (double YUM!!), and purchased a homemade apple pie to take home. Yes, it was a very apply Saturday for us. :)

But, boy, you should have seen the stares I was getting from everyone. I looked like I had come out of the losing end of a rugby match--YECK! I even had mud caked in my hair. And my shoes were shit! But they were hiking boots so that's what they were designed for, I guess. The whole time I was driving home, I couldn't wait to get out of those clothes, drop them in the washer on the "HEAVY SOIL" setting, and then take a nice hot shower.

But first I had to take care of the car.

Luckily I stopped by a car wash in the Bronx just before reaching home. I paid for the FULL SERVICE option and watched a team of undocumented workers who couldn't speak English go to town on the interior first. Then the car went through the old washer-roo and I watched on the waiting end as it got all spit-shined and polished. Wow! What a difference that made! I wish I had remembered to take pictures of it all, but by this time I just wanted to get home. I tipped the workers generously, though, then hopped in and burned rubber out of there! Got the Zipcar back to the garage with time to boot, then trekked the two blocks home while generating even more odd stares. Funny thing was, they're filming a movie in my neighborhood. The trailers had been set up on my street, and I'm sure someone thought I was some sort of extra or something. I passed by the crafts services truck and the guy working the counter gave me a double take.

Hmmm, on second thought . . . I should have tried to score some free food!

Anyway, I'm home now and I have delicious apple-tastic treats to show for it. Well not show, per se, as I don't want to bother with the camera right now. So you'll just have to take my word for it, but they're GOOD!

It's getting pretty chilly here in New York, too. Temps are now in the 60s for the following week, with nighttime temps even getting as low as the upper 40s here. Sweet! Perfect sleeping weather! I do so love this time of year.

Otherwise, I hope you guys had an awesome weekend. Tell me about it in the comments section, if you please.

Where Does One Find 'Roids In The Post-Apocalyptic Future?

2011-09-29T19:10:00.001-04:00

If you check out my "Now Playing" sidebar, you'll see that this is what I've been busy with as of late. Yes, it's Gears of War 3, which was just released for the Xbox 360 last week. I've been off from work these past several days, so I've had the luxury of getting in some pretty good game time. It's been a while since I've gamed so consistently and thoroughly -- WHEEEE!

The game is, of course, the third in the series. The initial game was my very first title for the 360 when I got one for Christmas back in 2007. It's a third-person action shooter, with team-based squad tactics against horrific alien foes. So it's a cross between sci-fi and horror, with a war backdrop to boot. And I must say, I get a lot of joy out of using my chainsaw bayonet to get up close and rip out some Locust grub guts. Yes, that's right: I said CHAINSAW BAYONET!!!

Thing is, this 3rd game in the saga is supposed to take place some 2 years after the first game when the human race is on its last legs. These guys have been doggedly trying to outrun extinction for a while now, see, but I have to laugh at just how buff they managed to stay in all that time.

It's utterly hilarious to anyone who weight trains and knows a thing or two about muscle building. And I can tell you there is no way in hell these soldiers could maintain that density of muscle mass while constantly in the field and fighting for their lives. Real soldiers come out of years-long conflicts more wiry than buff. So when I play titles like this I have to laugh at the rather adolescent view of male physicality being depicted in these games, especially the war ones.

Muscles like that take constant dedication day-in and day-out in the gym, with careful nutritional intake and supplements thrown into the mix. Running through bombed-out cities and devastated countryside constantly on the run do not a muscle-bound superman make. In such extremes, your body tries to conserve energy and keep one's profile sleek and fast. The soldiers I know--the ones who have seen constant combat--are usually lean and wiry, not puffed-out bulky like in these games. This is the type of build than can maintain energy levels for long periods of time. Plus, I mean the amount of calories one would have to consume each day to support a hulked-out physique -- there aren't nearly enough chickens running around the fictional world of Sera to sustain all that!

Still, silly exaggerations aside, Gears 3 is so far shaping up to be a much better game than its predecessor. Gears 2 left a bad taste in my mouth because it was too much of an all-out frag fest and lite on story. But the final installment in the series brings us back to what I loved so much from the first game--action AND story, blended perfectly.

Sometimes, I love gaming!

Ten Years Ago, On This Day

2011-09-11T12:51:00.002-04:00

*I've decided to update and repost this blog entry I wrote 3 years ago in honor of the tenth anniversary of that terrible tragedy which befell my city.*

10 years ago, on this day . . .

It was a bright Tuesday morning, I recall. Cool and refreshing, with a hint of summer coming to an end. I was walking to work from the West 4th street subway when I saw a plane flying low over the Hudson River. My company was located on the extreme west side of lower Manhattan, just one mile directly north of the World Trade Center. Something about the sight of that plane felt odd to me, as commercial airliners don't usually fly over that part of the city. And certainly not that low in the sky. But as I was running late, I put it out of mind and rushed to get to my office.

10 years ago, on this day . . .

I was in the middle of stacks of tax legislation when I got a phone call from Lisa telling me to listen to the news. She said a plane had crashed into one of the Twin Towers. My immediate thought was: oh, what fool took a joy ride in his little prop plane and got himself killed? See, I thought this was similar to that time someone crashed a private plane into the Empire State Building a few years earlier. It was sad and tragic, but didn't do much damage. I wasn't worried. But then she said: no, it was a 747. Now that was something entirely different, I admitted. That technically shouldn't be possible, I said, unless it was deliberate and not accidental. Still, I didn't want to believe it could be terrorist related. Maybe a suicidal pilot? But the news only got worse as the minutes ticked on by. Pretty soon a noticeable buzz started to build up around the office. My co-worker had her radio tuned to the live news broadcast, listening with her headphones on. She told everyone that another plane hit the other tower, and that's when folks started to really worry.

10 years ago, on this day . . .

I took a quick break and stepped outside our office building to assess the state of the world. I was expecting people to be going about their business as normal, a reassuring reminder that the rest of the city still chugged to the usual beat despite what might be happening a mile south. But to my surprise, the streets were a hotbed of chaotic activity. Fire engine after fire engine came roaring down Varick street, followed by motorcades of police patrol cars with their sirens blaring as well. Fire marshals and unmarked detective vehicles joined the fray, and in the air a distinct smell of something burning hung over us. People were leaving their offices and walking in the opposite direction. Surely they were overreacting, I thought? Still, I had an uneasy feeling in my stomach, so I cut my break short and rushed back upstairs. By now, the office was in an uproar, too. People wanted to go home, but the higher ups told us all--by mass e-mail, no less--to remain calm and continue working until further notice. They were going to keep us abreast of the situation.

10 Years ago, on this day . . .

My co-worker took off her headphones and turned to us, tears in her eyes. One of the towers had fallen, she informed us. They think the other one will, too. My brain tried to process this impossible news. I had an absurd mental picture of a gigantic looming office building toppling forward onto all the smaller office buildings around it. I went numb. The phones were ringing off the hook now; one of them was mine. Lisa was worried. She told me that people were being evacuated from the area, and were they letting us leave? No, I told her. But I had heard enough. I wasn't staying around any longer, waiting for the company brass to decide my fate for me. Others were of the same mind. Finally the official call came over e-mail to leave the premises and to contact our managers from home to find out when it would be safe to come back. We all powered down our workstations and filed out of the building at once. We didn't know it, but it would be a week before we were allowed to come back.

10 years ago, on this day . . .

I was booking it up 6th avenue, heading north. Around five hundred other people were crammed around me, trying to do the same thing. As I traveled up to West 4th street, I stopped and turned to face south. Where the Towers were supposed to be, a giant cloud of smoke obscured the sight. It was one of the most chilling moments of my life, standing there in the middle of the street as others around me did the same, staring up into the sky in shock and disbelief. Once I got myself moving again, I decided to take a shortcut cutting through Washington Square Park and the campuses of NYU. Students and faculty were standing around the steps of the buildings, chatting calmly but obviously confused. No one yet fully understood the magnitude of what had happened. Neither did I, but at that moment I didn't care. I was in pure survival mode, just thinking how in the hell I was going to walk up the full length of the island of Manhattan, cross the Harlem River, and then walk 30 more blocks to my highrise in the Bronx. The subways and buses were frozen, mass transit had come to a standstill. The entire lower half of the city was walking east and north with me it seemed. At 23rd street I had to decide: do I go east past 1st avenue and work my way up the FDR Drive? Or do I go west and walk along the West Side Highway? I knew the east side route would take me past the U.N. building. Having the vague sense by now that this had been a terrorist attack, I did not want to chance that the U.N. might not also be a target. So I made a compromise: I stuck to 5th avenue and continued on north until I hit Central Park. From there I headed east to 1st avenue, and then north again to Harlem. I crossed the barricaded Willis Avenue bridge near 135 street into the Bronx. Buses and trains were not working here, either, so I continued walking home. I walked 10.3 miles that day in 3 hours. A city of dazed and eerily silent zombies had shuffled along with me down those crazily hectic streets. Everyone had a blank look of numbness on their faces as we walked, no one saying a word to each other. Everyone was in survival mode like me.

10 years ago, on this day . . .

When I finally arrived home, I sat on the couch all day long staring at the news reports on tv. Nothing seemed real. From our 10th story apartment, I could see down into the Upper East Side of Manhattan. Not far enough to view the WTC on a normal day . . . but this was not a normal day. A thick plume of black smoke rose up from far to the southwest, testament to how much distance I had covered that morning. My feet were not as sore as the day my boy scout troop got lost and we ended up walking 15 miles on broken trails with heavy packs on our backs, but they were hurt nonetheless. The news reporters kept repeating themselves: a tragedy, a tragedy, they said. Still no word on the Pentagon. Still no word on the fourth plane. A tragedy!

10 years later, on this day . . .

My company has moved locations since that day. Ironies of all ironies, we're now just across the street from the World Trade Center. The site is coming along nicely, and every day the new Tower seems to get taller and more complete. Yet, I am so grateful that 9/11 fell on a weekend this year. With it being the 10-year anniversary, commuting in to work on a weekday would have been impossible. Not to mention the security risk. Although, as a true New Yorker, I can honestly say I'm not afraid of anything happening down there on this day. No, for me this is a time best spent at home with loved ones around me. Knowing that we are all safe is my comfort. My heart goes out to all those families who lost someone close on this terrible day a decade ago. We must do what we can to keep alive the memories of those who lost and sacrificed their lives.

They tell us never to forget. But for me, on this day, it's impossible not to remember.

My Favorite Month

2011-09-04T19:22:00.000-04:00

Buh-Bye, Summer.

Yes, summer is finally winding down to a close and we've come to my favorite month of the year -- September! It's my best month not just because it marks the end of my most hated season, but because both Lisa and I have our birthdays in September. How cool is that?

Grillin' and Chillin'.

With Labor Day upon us, I've decided to bust out the brand new Foreman grill and fire up some burgers and dogs. I've got the patties marinating in the fridge now, and will be preparing the corn on the cob in just a few minutes. You may recall that I busted my old grill to pieces last Memorial Day weekend, much to my grief. But I went out and got a similar version and now all is well. I usually only ever eat this type of food on patriotic holidays--especially the ones that give us 3-day weekends to enjoy. Call it a bygone effect of my childhood. Plus, Lisa absolutely LOVES corn! Must be why she laughs at all my jokes. [crickets chirping]

And On The 14th Day, He Rested.

It was 2 weeks ago that I mentioned I was going to be getting down and dirty with this infected PC of mine. Well, I wasn't joking. It's taken me this long to finally get everything squared away and my machine running at top speed once again. Phew! It seems I was infected by a great many things, the biggest of which was a nasty rootkit takeover. That one took a lot out of me to repair, but eventually I got rid of the nasty bugger! And I learned that I really need to stay more on top of my various protective ~~spells~~ programs that have kept this PC running smoothly for the past 8 years. If I weren't so busy of late this might never have happened, and I intend for it to never happen again. But, yes, all is well now. Hopefully this means I won't be so scarce around the blogosphere anymore. Having Windows running under multiple scans and cleanup protocols for hours on end each day can make one not want to hang around a PC much, let me just say. But now I'm up and running again. Hurrah!

Fun, Fun, Fun 'Till Daddy Takes My Word Doc Away!

And speaking of up and running again, you may notice a certain word counter at the top of the page is showing larger digits than the number ZERO again. Yes, yes . . . I have started working on the Castlevania novel once more. As I mentioned in another post earlier last month, I've decided to start all over and rewrite what's already been written down on the project. Which, last time I checked, was around 12 chapters and some 50,000 words. The good news is that I now know what to expect, and have a much clearer idea of what I want to do with these same chapters. I'm going to be streamlining the plot a little, completely re-doing a certain character's voice (which was getting pretty annoying to me in the first run), and trying not to overwrite my sentences, which I have a tendency to do a lot. After just one day's work, I've already written some 2,300 words and finished an entire chapter. Full steam ahead!

So, I hope you all are having a great weekend. If you live in the U.S. of A., have a wonderful Labor Day. Eat lots of burgers and corn and dogs, or combine the last two and have a corndog on me! :)

The Return Of Kevin Butler

2011-08-31T11:02:00.001-04:00

The "fictional" VP of Sony PlayStation, Kevin Butler, has returned to where he belongs in a string of upcoming new and hilarious television ads for the PlayStation 3. If you follow me on Facebook, you're already aware of how much I love this guy and his commercials. If you need a refresher course, check out some of his more infamous tv spots here, here, here and here.

Anyway, Kevin's been out of the loop for some time. Apparently he's been moonlighting as president of the carpet company "Economy Flooring" while Sony marketing got its collective act together. But, as is only natural, you cannot keep a good guy down for long. Kevin's back, and he's here to put in no uncertain terms to you casual gaming pansies out there why PlayStation 3 means business this Fall.

Check out the launch of the new "Long Live Play" ad campaign below, and tell me you don't just love this guy's enthusiasm:

Oh GAWD, so many awesome lines in this one. Like:

"It's tougher than a no-scope headshot from a moving troop transport." (haha @ the customer's reaction to that one!)

"I'm not coming back to the gaming industry to sell some watered down, get-grandma-off-the-couch weaksauce."

"Long live the kind of play that turns 'five more minutes' into five more hours."

"I believe in that as much as I believe in my no-look flaming crossbow shot."

LOL!

I so can't wait until the new ads start rolling out, especially with such awesome PlayStation exclusives as Resistance 3, Twisted Metal, and Uncharted 3 being released in the near future. And while I don't think anything can top PlayStation's old slogan "It Only Does Everything," I kinda like the new "Long Live Play" one for bringing back the focus to actual hard-core gameplay that seems to have been missing lately.

Long Live KEVIN BUTLER!!!

The Great NYC Shakeup Of Two-Oh-Eleven!

2011-08-23T20:53:00.000-04:00

Because, saying "oh" before the year apparently makes anything sound way more dramatic.

So, I stayed home from work today and figured I'd get up and do the dishes after watching Thundercats (oh what an exciting life I lead on my days off!). Halfway done with the sudsy plates, I was rinsing out some utensils when suddenly I realized I was tipping forward against the sink. Weird, I thought. Then I stopped to listen to a loud banging noise. I looked up and behind me and found the ENTIRE HOUSE swaying back and forth like a sunflower in the breeze. The banging sound was my front door, shut and locked, shuddering within the frame.

Holy crap, are we having an EARTHQUAKE???

I knew it had to be a very minor trembler, if so. Nothing worth even blinking about to my friends out on the West Coast, no doubt. But this was the first time I've ever experienced one. We've had minor quakes before in the region, but always under a 4.0 magnitude and always in the middle of the night when everyone is sleeping. I know for a fact that I've slept through three such events in my lifetime here in the greater New York City area.

So, yes, this was a big deal for me. For the 4 seconds it took to dissipate, I felt like I was on a large boat gently rocking in a calm harbor. Nothing broke, no dishes went flying across the kitchen, the pets in the nearby apartments were not barking mad. Just a smooth swaying to and fro. For a second I thought perhaps it was the D subway line passing beneath my building. Or perhaps a construction mishap at the building next door where workers on the scaffolding were already packing up for the day. I stuck my head out the window, but no one on the streets below seemed all that perturbed.

Was I the only one who felt it, I thought?

Around 15 minutes later, the major networks cut in with the news. There was indeed a 5.8 quake some 80 miles south of D.C. It was felt as far north as New Hampshire -- maybe even Ontario, Canada if some reports are to be believed. Whoa!

Anyway, we're all fine here. Not even the subways were disrupted. The local news people, of course, made a HUGE deal out of it. Which sucks because it's going to give off the impression that we New Yorkers can get rattled so easily by what was just a teeny, tiny baby quake.

Most of the people I know barely shrugged at what happened. Hell, some of them didn't even feel it. Those who did, like me, were more bemused by the whole event than perturbed. Something big always seems to strike NYC around this time of year. I think it was on or near this very date back in 2003 when we had a huge blackout and I ended up having to walk all the way home from my job in the baking August heat. And, of course, we all know about 9/11. And now this?

I think from now on I'll take the entire latter half of August and part of September off. Might be a plan. What say you all?

We're Experiencing Technical Difficulties . . .

2011-08-19T22:57:00.000-04:00

Arrgh! This is so FRUSTRATING!

Seems my main home PC is suffering from some nasty bit of malware that came "from God knows where, infecting [it] with God knows what!" Kudos for anyone who knows what favorite movie of mine that's taken from. Here's a hint:

How do I know my PC's infected? Because suddenly my anti-viral and malicious software removal tools refuse to operate. I get some bullshit message saying that Windows cannot find the file path or whatever, even though I just used these programs not that long ago. I'm also unable to get the latest Windows Update download no matter how many times I try.

Lastly, anytime I try to download anything new to help fix the problem--up to and including online-only runs--I get cock blocked each time by this bullshit denial window.

Like I said -- ARRGH!

Now, in case you didn't know, I run a tight ship on all my computing products. Nothing irks me more than an infected PC, and I go to great pains to ensure that these things don't happen. It's why my machines always last so long. But of course, you can only do so much. And despite your best efforts, something eventually does slips through. In the eight years I've had this same PC, I've had two previous invasions. The first was pretty easy to fix, while the second (around 4 years ago) was hell on wheels to diagnose and eradicate. It took me two weeks before all the dust had cleared and I stood victorious over the smoking corpse of that last trojan.

This one, though, makes that last attack look like the Spanish-American War (to the Americans, naturally). I'm afraid what I'm dealing with here is the Great War itself. Or perhaps the Battle at Helm's Deep? Whatever it is, it looks bad!

I'm going to be busy for a while getting to the bottom of this. It sucks, because I have so much other crap to deal with right now that I need to attend to. Not this. But if I don't nip this in the bud now, there's no telling how much worse it will get.

Wish me luck!

Consequently, I'm also tentatively looking into a new PC. After 8 years, it's damn near time I upgraded. This baby did great to hold out that long with nary a problem, but now it's feeling a little bit long in the tooth. Notwithstanding this latest snafu. I might have to downgrade this PC to a word-processing only machine, but only after I clean her up a bit first.

So, that's what my weekend is shaping up to be already. *sigh* How's yours starting off?

Writing, Reading . . . More Writing

2011-08-16T19:02:00.002-04:00

So, it's me again. Taking a quick break from whatever it is I do when I'm not here blogging. Which, as I mentioned yesterday, has been happening a lot lately. And I'm sorry for that, truly I am. But I have indeed been busy . . . idle hands, and all that.

I'm happy to say that I put the finishing touches on a new short story and sent it out into the wild to see if someone will publish it. I expect it'll go through several rounds of rejections before someone bites. Or not. So it could be a very long time before you hear any more news from me on that front.

In the meantime, I decided to dig into my pile of old stories that might have been but were not, and publish one here for all the world to see. If you remember, I did this a few months back when I resurrected "Hatchling" from my rejections pile. Well now I've added a story I wrote even further back before I wrote "Hatchling." This one is called "Off the Grid," and I wrote it back in mid-2008. To read it, you can click on this link to where I have it up as a separate page attached to The Bimillennial Man, or you can access it under the "Current Short Story WIPs" sidebar on the right side of this page. I created this sidebar to showcase various stories I've written over the past four years which were never able to reach publication status for whatever the reason might be (it varies for each story). These stories don't represent my best work, but I thought it would be an interesting exercise to include my "failures" as well as successes on this blog.

So, feel free to read "Off the Grid" if you're of a mind to do so. As with "Hatchling," I provide a brief insight into why I wrote the story and why I think it ultimately failed. You may or may not agree, but if you want to leave a comment on the tale, you'll have to do so at the end of THIS entry. Blogger Pages doesn't allow comments--just the facts, ma'am.

I've also been reading a lot lately, including that latest "Game of Thrones" novel you might have heard about. That sucker's HUGE, though, and I'm just 100 odd pages into it so far. That's barely scratching the surface on this 1,000 page tome! But--oh yes--so far the book is teh AWESOME sauce! Phew, that George R. R. Martin is an amazingly talented writer. Damn him to the seven hells!!!

In other news . . . if you check the upper right corner of the page, you'll notice that my "Current Novel in Progress" counter is back down to zero words. That's because I've decided to go back and rewrite the Castlevania novel from scratch again. Have no fears, I just wanted to take some time off from it for a while and reexamine my approach. Now that I've done so, I plan on getting back into the thick of things within the next few weeks. Maybe even starting this weekend, although don't hold me to that. But whenever I do ramp things up, I'll make the announcement here and then you can hopefully watch that counter GROW!!!

So, that's all the news that's fit to print in Batista land. How's your summer coming along?

Random Thought Of . . . August

2011-08-15T20:34:00.000-04:00

Yup, I said AUGUST. Because that's probably how long it will take before you hear from me again, judging by the absence of anything Batista on this blog lately.

Yes, yes, I know I've been a bad blogger. But while I'm not ready to come back to full-steam posting mode yet, I figured I'd let you in on the most recent question to pop into my mind a few minutes ago while I was working out:

Why don't all the major booksellers figure out a way to allow people who have purchased the print version of their products to scan the barcode on their receipt with their smart phones or tablet PCs and download the electronic copy for free?

Really, is that so hard to do for us loyal customers?

I only ask because I have a ton of hardcopy books sitting on my shelves in need of reading, but I no longer carry physical books with me when I leave the house. These days, all my on-the-run reading is done on either my iPhone or iPad. It's terribly useful, especially on my mobile since that's always with me when I leave the house. I only read physical books when I'm curled up in bed at night and have 30 - 45 minutes to spare before Mr. Sandman knocks me over the head and it's lights out.

So, being that I'm a loyal book purchaser from such places like Amazon and Barnes & Noble, why can't I just download copies of those self same books on the Kindle and Nook apps, respectively, that are on my portable devices?

I mean, talk about being GREEDY! No wonder the industry's in the crapper.

Thoughts?

For the record . . .

2011-07-20T09:31:00.000-04:00

No, I'm not dead. Or without Internet service. Or sequestered away in a top secret jury somewhere in this great big city.

I'm just taking a protracted break from the interwebs for a while, that's all. I can't rightfully say how long it will last. It could end tomorrow, or last until Fall. I don't know.

I am very busy, though. With mostly good things, but busy nonetheless. And I may drop a post or two at random. But for now I'm taking a break. I ask that you please don't forget me in this time away from the blogosphere, and know that I *will* be back eventually.

In the meantime -- have FUN, people! And, if I'm not back before then: Have a great rest of the summer/winter (depending on which half of this Earth you're currently rotating on).

Peace, out.

Where In The World Is . . . David J. Batista???

2011-07-12T21:47:00.000-04:00

Cue that Rockapella music, maestro!

Actually, I've been nowhere as of late. Just been chilling at home, trying to adjust to the local scene and work and all. Last week was also very busy both at the office and on the personal front, the latter due to preparations for our 6th wedding anniversary which arrived on Saturday. We had a nice quiet day all to ourselves, with some unintentional excitement added near the tail end of the day which I just don't have the energy to detail right now.

So, yeah, the wife and I are still going well and strong after six full years from the day we officially tied the knot. If you would like to read an old blog post I wrote about how and when we first met, click here and get taken back 17 years ago to a much younger, innocent us. As for the actual wedding . . . I don't believe I ever wrote that account down here, but you can go over to my Facebook photo album to see pics of that special day. The photos and captions should tell the story well enough (hee!).

Stop The Presses!

Oh, and just what did my wonderful, FANTABULOUS life-mate decide to gift me so unsuspectingly on this yearly milestone date? Why, look below and see for yourselves:

Yup, that's right! It's been foretold that I would get one eventually, and so I have. Behold, the iPad 2. And damn is this thing AWESOME! It's especially useful around the house because, with the WiFi linkup, I can execute my daily online frivolities from this amazingly compact and lightweight device without ever once turning on my desktop PC. True, for heavy duty usage--such as writing and major online transactions--I still need to power up the main box, but for almost all other things I can save the hassle and energy bill by simply jumping on the iPad real quick from the comfort of my living room couch.

I've already grown accustomed to taking it outdoors with me, too, for when I commute to and from work. The larger screen compared to my iPhone makes it ideal for reading my ePub novels and digital subscriptions. I even downloaded a bunch of comics to the device, which look so amazing in the glorious color palette offered by the iPad's sleek screen. Just take a look at this Conan comic I was reading today:

That right there is the HOTNESS, as the kids say! :)

I've yet to completely configure the iPad to my liking, but it's getting there in bits and pieces. This weekend is probably when I'll get the bulk of the work done, including configuring my mobile as a WiFi hub so that the iPad can tether to it and go online when I'm outdoors. Technology, I tell ya--it's a wonderful thing!

In Other News . . .

IT'S HERE, people! There it sits on the book shelves in our den! Ain't it a beaut? That, in case you're wondering, is the 5th book in the "A Game of Thrones" series by George R. R. Martin, which just hit stores today. Of course I wasted no time in barging into the nearest bookstore and snagging my copy like they were going out of business. Oh wait, it was a Borders store . . . so they actually ARE going out of business. Anyway, you know what I mean.

The book, titled A Dance With Dragons, is approximately 1,000 pages long! *gasp* That's about the size of all 3 Lord of the Rings books combined!!! This also makes it roughly the same size as the 3rd book in the series, A Storm of Swords, which was also quite the hefty tome. I love it!

If you haven't started reading this series yet, I suggest you get a move-on pronto! And to help you along that very path, Amazon.com is enticing you with a pretty sweet deal. Yup, click on that link and scroll down to the "Best Value" section to find out how you can get all four previous books in paperback PLUS the new hardcover novel all for the ridiculously low price of $38!!! Considering that the new book alone has a list price of $35, that's quite the damn steal, ain't it? You'd be CRAZY not to go for it!

Last And Certainly Least

It's been a long time since I've added to my collection of "man purse" sightings here in the city. For my really old-skool readers who've been visiting the Bimillennial Man since 2008, you may recall the ground-breaking expose I wrote detailing this bewildering trend here in New York City. Now, although I didn't follow up on that post and the one after it with even more sightings like I had originally promised, mark my words that this disturbing trend has not diminished here in the Big Apple over the intervening years. Quite the contrary, it seems to have gotten worse!

The other day Lisa and I were waiting for the train to head back uptown to the Bronx. And, lo and behold, look what decided to step up to the edge of the platform in front of us:

*sigh*

Yes, unfortunately, this is an all too common sight. Especially during the warmer months. I don't know who these guys think they are, but this hipster look is so not flattering. Ladies, does this guy look like potential boyfriend material to you? I can't imagine who would think that's masculine, but hey . . . maybe I'm just an old-fashioned red blooded American male. I dunno. Guess it takes a village, huh?

Anywho . . .

Sorry for being so darn scarce around these here parts so far this July. I've been negligent in reading up on your own blogs, too. A sure sign that I'm too busy for idle browsing on these here Interwebs these days. But I shall remedy the latter matter shortly, if not the former. So beware: I shall be ALL UP IN YOUR GRILLS in a manner of minutes!

And by grills I, of course, only mean your comments sections. Technology is a wonderful thing, but it's not THAT good.

Not yet anyway.

The Tale Of Two eReaders

2011-07-07T15:48:00.000-04:00

So, as some of you may have heard me mention, our 6th wedding anniversary is quickly approaching this weekend. And, with that, I've had to finally make the long awaited decision on which eReader to gift to my wife on this occasion. For yes this is indeed the gift I have decided upon. Like me, she reads a LOT of books on her spare time and eReaders can store thousands of books at a time. Seven hells!

Now to be clear I realistically only have to choose between two options: the Amazon Kindle (Generation 3), or the Barnes & Noble Nook (Simple Touch). Yes, I know there are other eReaders out there from other companies. But let's get real here: these are the only two that matter in the e-ink arena! Yes, e-ink technology is important to me. Or, rather, to my wife who can't stand reading on a backlit screen like I do with my iPhone 4. So that naturally rules out the Nook Color or the iPad 2 as possible choices, since both utilize backlit screens.

And then there were two. So once more I'm left to decide between these options:

Ha! Well, the joke's on you . . . I've already decided! Yes, after much deliberation, I've gone with the one on the right -- the Kindle. Some of you might be surprised by this choice. After all, the Nook is clearly smaller and more streamlined. It has no buttons and keys messing up its nice smooth facade, and what's more -- it has a touch screen! True, it's the same sized screen as the Kindle's, but everyone loves touch screens, yes?

Well, not necessarily. I've had multiple opportunities to try out both readers in stores, and for some reason the old-fashioned button technology of the Kindle felt more responsive than the Nook's touch interface. Also, even though the Nook has a memory buffer to keep refresh jitters down to every sixth page or so, the Kindle refresh happens in a blink of an eye and you barely even notice it. Not so once you reach that 5th or 6th page on the Nook. For me it was just too jarring.

Add to all this that my wife and I are certified Amazon.com junkies. I mean, we buy damn near EVERYTHING from that online mecca of trade! I myself have been buying the "Lannister's share" of my books, music, and movies from there since 1998 -- no joke. And I can say that I've never, ever had a bad transaction with them. You heard right. Never. So needless to say I trust them explicitly. Also, up until this new Nook came out recently, the Kindle was pwning the eReader industry left and right. It's still the number 1 standard right now, but the touch screen on B&N's latest version is quickly closing that gap it seems.

Whatever. I shall wrap this gift up and present it to my wife on Saturday (shhh, don't tell!). And we shall see how she responds.

Hell if she doesn't like it . . . then I suppose I'll have myself a new eReader, hey! :)

Back From The Cape

2011-07-04T22:03:00.000-04:00

And boy am I not in a blogging mood!

Still . . . I had a wonderful time away, the rental car held up beautifully despite the heavy usage I put it through, and I feel thoroughly well-rested. So much so that I've been on a mini blog hiatus all this time and really am not ready to return just yet.

So this is just a quick note to let you all know that we're safe and sound back home in the Bronx, and that Cape Cod was indeed quite picturesque and a lot of fun to hang around in. Right now I'm preparing for the dreaded return to work tomorrow and a crap load of catching up to do at the office. Grrrrr! When I finally do have the time and energy to return to blogging, you'll definitely know it. :)

In the meantime, hope you have all been well.

And . . . HAPPY FOURTH!!!!

Ongoing Vacation Week -- Now With Pics!

2011-06-28T20:41:00.001-04:00

I know I'm not supposed to be blogging on my week off while having so much fun in the sun (thanks, guys, for hammering that point home over and over again), but I did promise some pics from the beach. And, so, here they are!

Of course, as per usual, click on the pics and expand the new window if you want to see larger versions.

I drove a measly 2 minutes to the nearest beach from where we're staying in Brewster, Mass. early Monday morning to find the parking lot looking like this:

But before I could rejoice at my luck, I was greeted by this sign:

Drat! If I wanted to park here, I first needed to make a quick detour to the Town Hall for a parking permit. Guess this beach is popular!

I drove to the center of main street and turned down a long side-alley (thank god for the Google maps app on my iPhone), stood in a surprisingly long line for a Monday morning, and then showed my rental car's registration and my driver's license to the nice clerk at the table. She convinced me to get a week long bumper sticker rather than the daily, and then I was hightailing it back to the beach.

This is the sight which greeted me:

Plenty of space for me! Armed with my beach chair, umbrella, book, and snack cooler, I picked a plum spot clear away from everyone else. Lisa was at her conference all day, so it was just me and George R. R. Martin's A Feast For Crows -- Book 4 in the "Game of Thrones" series. Book 5 is coming out in just a few short weeks, so I wanted to prepare myself in advance.

As I engrossed myself in this thoroughly engrossable tome, the beach started to fill up big time. Before long, I was surrounded by large families and their whelps on all sides. At this point, too, the ice-cream truck man drove up and rang his bell, displaying uncanny timing no doubt honed by years of practice. The kids, of course, swarmed the truck. In ones and twos at first, and then in wave after wave as the call went out far and wide: Ice cream was to be had!

Around this time, too, the tide began going out. I've heard of low tide, of course. And even witnessed it once or twice before. But never had I seen it this drastically visualized. What was once a beautiful azure vista of sea meeting shore was now a muddled brown wasteland of soggy sand, revealed pitfalls, and dozens upon dozens of now exposed mollusks.

Below is a before and after shot for your benefit:

Pretty drastic change, huh? People could now walk from the previous shoreline out half a mile into the bay without getting so much as a pinky toe wet! I was properly amazed!

I spent the rest of the lazy day reading, snacking, and napping -- not in that particular order. It was just what I needed, and reminded me that--although I complain about the sun and heat--sometimes a beach day can perform wonders to replenish one's soul.

Oh, don't you agree?

We Hath Arriveth!

2011-06-27T09:16:00.001-04:00

So, looks like the Ford Escape was a better vehicle than I gave it credit for. And, funny, but I actually made it the entire 260 miles without ever needing to fill up. Luckily there's a Mobil station in town, because by the time we did make it to our destination we were *almost* running on fumes.

Anyway, folks, as you might have surmised -- we made it here to the Cape safe and sound. And I have WiFi at the inn where we're staying in Brewster! Thing is, it's clear, sunny, and warm out. And my wife's stuck all day at her conference, leaving me all alone to my own devices.

Do you know what that means?

BEACH DAY!!!

So, yeah, that's where I'll be all day now. At the beach. With the sand. And the waves. And no wi-fi. If I can muster up the energy, I'll try to update this entry with pics at the end of the day. But other than that -- dudes! I'm on vacation!

See you all later!

Stepping Away For A Few Days

2011-06-26T10:24:00.000-04:00

Well folks, we're hitting the road today. My wife's got a medical conference to attend up in beautiful Cape Cod, Massachusetts all this week . . . and I get to be a beach bum. Yup, life will be good! We've never been to Cape Cod before, so I'm actually looking forward to getting some sea and sun for a change. I'm not a big fan of the ocean, mind you, but I do in fact like being near the ocean. As long as there is solid land beneath my feet during my experiencing of it, you can give me all the ocean you'd like.

It's about a 260 mile drive from the Bronx to there, so it should take us around 4 and a half hours I think. I should say it's going to take me that long since I'm the one doing all the driving. Must be nice, huh?

I went to pick up the rental car from Avis yesterday and was in a for a shock. See, when I set the reservation a while back, I had specified a compact or sub-compact -- like a Ford Focus or a Chevy Cobalt. But when I got there today, the woman behind the counter said: "Okay, now let me step into the back and see what we have available. You said you wanted a compact, right?

I confirmed, and then she left. I should have known something was up, because she had already tried to get me to upgrade to something larger twice. The reason I wanted a compact or smaller, however, was because there is only two of us -- me and Lisa. And this isn't really a vacation for us, but more like a get out of town for a few days on business and some pleasure trip. Moreover, I didn't want a gas guzzler that was going to devour my wallet at the pump. 260 miles to and the same back is a LOT of fuel to burn, not even including all the local driving we'll be doing while we're there.

So, of course, wouldn't you know I didn't get the car I wanted? What did I get, you ask? Well, take a look for yourself:

Yes, there you go. I was politely informed that the most "compact" car they had in the lot was this Ford Escape SUV. I just looked at the woman for a while and then said: "A what?"

Arrgh! I was soooo mad! This is the exact opposite of what I wanted!

But then, a strange thing happened. I got in the car, fiddled around with all the bells and whistles for a few minutes -- and decided that I loved it! The interior is really quite spacious, and the seats are all leather. Very classy, in fact. And I was reminded that I did in fact learn how to drive in an SUV--a Jeep Grand Cherokee, to be precise--so the size and the height of the car was at once very familiar to me.

Now if I can only wrap my head around the amount of gas I'm going to be paying for when this trip is all said and done. Ouch!

After I left the garage, I drove around up and and down the East Side of Manhattan all afternoon running some errands. I have to say, although the Escape is much heavier on the pedal than the Civics and Priuses I'm used to getting from Zipcar, it ran very smooth. The interior resembles a Range Rover in many respects, and the chassis felt almost as sturdy. So I guess I can say I'm not too upset by the mixup. I'm sure this baby will serve me well on this trip.

So, we're off! I can't promise I'll be doing much blogging when we get there. But then, I said the same thing whenever we went overseas in previous years and still managed to find a way somehow. If the little inn where we're staying has WiFi, then the chances are good you'll hear from me. Heck, you might even get a video blog from the beach if you're lucky!

If not -- I'll see you guys before the 4th.

This is Mork signing out: Nanoo, nanoo!

P.S. -- I just realized this is my 100th blog entry of the year. Yippee!!!

So, New York . . .

2011-06-25T20:23:00.000-04:00

Ya did something good for once, did ya? I'm glad, my home state you. And -- phew!

If you don't know, New York just passed a momentous law into effect that will make gay and lesbian marriages legal here. This makes it the 6th and largest state to do so.

I have to say, all the arguing back and forth over the past several weeks was really starting to make my blood boil. I think it's utterly ridiculous to disallow two human beings from marrying. This isn't marriage between a woman and her horse, or a man and his dog, after all. These are PEOPLE, people. Damn!

And, you know what? I don't give two shits what your religion says on the subject. Although I think if some of you go back and read your relevant sacred texts more closely, you'll probably realize that you're more wrong on the subject than you previously thought. But I won't get into that here.

No, I don't care about the religion angle because the law has nothing to do with religion. Read up on your separation of church and state sometime . . . our Founding Fathers explicitly put that part in there. The bible has a nice little comment about giving Caesar his due and what not, too. The point being, let the government handle the legal side of things while the church handles the spiritual side -- and neither the two shall meet!

And, at least for now, New York State has taken a major step in keeping those sides firmly apart. There's more that can and should be done, but that also is a topic for another day. For now, I'm proud and at peace. I'm happy any day justice and equality is to be had, and bigots get to go home to cry in their cups. I also expect that church services all across the land this Sunday will be a particularly lively event, which too makes me cackle with glee.

Ah, such are the amazing times we live in . . .

Game Of Thrones For Dummies, Ep. 10

2011-06-24T10:09:00.001-04:00

About a month ago you may recall I posted up this blog entry about a Youtube web series, "Game of Thrones For Dummies," presented by one super fine SF geek, Simone Boyce. Well, I thought that in the spirit of closure I'd embed her latest installment covering the final episode. I'm going to miss these . . . at least until next Spring.

LOL! Girl power indeed! I just love her bit with the plush dragon toy on her shoulder at the beginning. Simone ROCKS!!!

Ep. 10 Reactions: "Fire and Blood"

2011-06-22T14:03:00.002-04:00

So this is it, the season finale. I can't believe how fast time has flown! This is such a bittersweet moment for me. I always knew the day would come--and quickly with a 10-episode season at that!--but this is what I've been dreading since April. The day Game of Thrones would come to an end for the year.

The title of this final episode is "Fire and Blood" with good reason. But to speak more on that would give certain things away, so for now I'll keep a lid on it and await to see if HBO can pull off greatness here. You'll be getting my honest reactions as they occur throughout the episode, along with some clarifications and background info gleaned from the books when I deem it necessary.

So, won't you join me as a I settle in for what promises to be a night of television I'll likely won't forget for some time? But before you do, please take a moment to check out my previous episode reactions by clicking their appropriate links below:

Episode 1: "Winter is Coming."
Episode 2: "The Kingsroad."
Episode 3: "Lord Snow."
Episode 4: "Cripples, Bastards, and Broken Things."
Episode 5: "The Wolf and the Lion."
Episode 6: "A Golden Crown."
Episode 7: "You Win or You Die."
Episode 8: "The Pointy End."
Episode 9: "Baelor."

And now, lets us begin . . . the end.*

*(Until season 2 next Spring, that is.)

======================================

FIRE AND BLOOD

0:00

HBO's recap of last week's showing tells us all we need to know to setup this last and final episode of the season:

Robb Stark thoroughly routes Tywin's hosts, feigning with a token force while diverting the majority of his men toward breaking through Jaime Lannister's lines and capturing the Kingslayer himself.

Daenerys' pleads with the "witch" she saved from being brutalized to use her dark magic and bring Khal Drogo back from the brink of death. Drogo's khalasar do not take kindly to this and threaten to abandon her and her unborn child. Daenerys goes into premature labor.

At King's Landing, Ned confesses to treason even though he was in the right. He realizes the lives of his two daughters are worth not saving face. Cersei has promised to let him leave the capital with his family so long as he continues past Winterfell and take the black at the Wall. But in a stunning reversal, newly crowned King Joffrey takes matters into his own hands and orders the beheading of Ned Stark.

Yoren--a man of the Night's Watch and sworn brother to Benjen Stark--intercepts Arya before she reveals herself to the king and his men. He forces her to look away as Ser Ilyn Payne executes her father before a public throng at the steps of Baelor's Sept.

Wow, the sight of Ned being beheaded is just as brutal now, in retrospect, as it was last week. It kills me to have to see it again. Fuck!

0:02

The title roll this time reverts to where it was in episode two. No more Eyrie, and no more Twins. Music still rocks, though.

The writing credit for the finale, naturally, go to the showrunners--David Benioff and D.B. Weiss. They're the main guys responsible for making this show happen, and it's only fitting that they close the season off proper. They've been doing the Lannister's share of writing for most of the episodes, anyway.

Alan Taylor once again gets the director's credit. I liked what he did last episode, so I'm happy to have him at the helm for the final one.

And now . . . the Game is afoot!

0:03

Oh, damn. I wasn't expecting the episode to pick up mere seconds after the ending scene of the previous one. Ned's own "great sword"--Ice--was used to behead him, and it's dripping red with his blood. We see Ser Ilyn picking up the head in the out-of-focus background. Which is good, because I don't think I can take any more of this.

Sansa faints as they drag around Ned's headless body, which is probably for the better. I've been pretty harsh on her all this time, but I think from now on the poor girl deserves our sympathy. She never meant for it to go this far. I mean, come one--that's her FATHER!

Luckily Arya has good ol' Yoren watching her back. He's pretty rough with her, but it's for her own good. He drags her away from the crowds and into a side alley, where he pulls out a dagger and calls her "boy".

Arya: "I'm not a boy!"
Yoren: "You're not a smart boy, is that what you're trying to say?"

Arya finally gets what he's driving at. She allows him to start butchering her hair, chopping off each lengthy lock in hasty fashion. Seems Yoren has in mind to disguise her as a common orphan boy, a role Arya had no problem playing ever since escaping from the Red Keep. But Yoren has a plan on how to keep her safe and get her out of King's Landing.

Yoren: "North, boy. We're going North."

YEAH!!! I love this. Some of you might not remember this guy, but he's one of the few rangers with special dispensation to wander the Seven Kingdoms. Something that would be a punishable offense for any other Night's Watchmen. His job is to recruit from the dungeons, gutters, and general cesspools of the realm, seeking out new fodder for the Wall.

As such, Arya will easily blend in with all the other dirty little ragamuffins he's bringing back North with him. If she can play her part right.

0:05

And speaking of the North . . .

We're back at Winterfell! God, I just love that landscape shot of Winterfell from a distance! I wish I was a Stark.

Well, actually, maybe not considering all the shit they've just been put through and will be put through again during the course of this series.

Uh-oh. Bran's having his three-eyed crow dream again. As with the previous dreams, the crow seems to be leading him deeper and deeper into the crypt below Winterfell.

The next morning, Bran asks Osha the wildling to take him into the crypts since Hodor is being a big chicken-shit about setting foot down there. Osha is clearly uncomfortable at the prospect herself, but she decides to help a cripple out.

I'm loving the camaraderie between these two, which is just as it should be as per the books.

OH SNAP! That direwolf scared the piss out of me! I can't fucking believe it--it's SHAGGYDOG! It's about damn time! It took until the very last episode for them to FINALLY show us Rickon's own wolf, whom he affectionately named "Shaggydog" as only a 6-year old would.

Whoa, creepy huh? Seems like both Bran and Rickon had the same exact dream--that of their father being down in the crypt. As before, Rickon seems to know way more than a little boy should. He's being all cryptic and shit about it, though. Arrrrgh! (Get it . . . cryptic?)

When Bran exits the gloomy subterranean passage out into daylight again, it's to find Maester Luwin waiting for him with some bad news just delivered from King's Landing.

Oh, damn. Sorry, little dude. But if it's any consolation, all of fandom is right there with you in mourning.

That little shit Joffrey has gots to DIE!!!

0:07

At Robb's camp not far from Riverrun, Catelyn Stark walks stiffly through a line of bowing bannermen showing their respects. She's become truly Northern, though, and puts on a brave face long enough to exit the camp and enter the woods where she can let her grief overcome her.

This is a really touching scene, and says so much about the strength of this woman. Such awesome acting!

Cat comes across her son expressing his grief in his own way--by giving a poor, hapless tree the death of a thousand cuts! Whoa! I can't help but feel sorry for that sword!

LOL @ Cat! She just echoed my own sentiments.

"Robb! You've ruined your sword!"

Aww, such a touching scene between mother and son. It makes what happened to Ned even more heartbreaking, seeing how it affects those who loved him most.

Damn, I love this show!

Robb promises he's going to kill them all.

Cat: "My boy . . . they have your sisters. We have to get the girls back. And then we will KILL THEM ALL!"

Yeah. You're damn right, mama Stark!

0:09

Ugh. Didn't much care for this scene. It doesn't match up with the books, and I'm not quite sure what was being accomplished with the way they chose to mix things up here.

Marillion is that wandering minstrel who was at the Inn when Catelyn had Tyrion the dwarf arrested. He was also there when the party got attacked by the mountain clans on their way through the Vale and to the Eyrie. I have no idea how he got back to King's Landing, why he's even there in the first place, nor why his tongue got forcibly removed by Ser Ilyn for singing a bawdy song about Robert's death.

It was funny, though. The song. Implicates the Lannisters in a bad way, and perhaps sets up the legitimacy of Stannis's and Renly's separate claims to the Iron Throne, since this shows that the common folk are perhaps not all too fond of the golden-haired lions of Casterly Rock.

0:12

Ick! Joffrey--that prick!--asks Sansa to walk with him. He has something interesting he wants to show her.

Joffrey: ". . . and as soon as you've had your blood, I'll put a son in you. Mother says that shouldn't be long."

Um, no thanks. Sheesh, what a charmer this boy is! And your mother was talking about your weiner, jackass!

Ugh! The bastard brings her to where her father's head, and those of all the members of the Stark household, are on display atop pikes. He wants to teach her a lesson about what happens to traitors.

Now that's just wrong, man! What the fuck?

Oh, that Joffrey is such a bitch-ass punk! He has to have his lackey, Meryn Trant of the Kingsguard, give Sansa two quick but vicious slaps to keep her in her place.

YEAH! This girl has some spine after all! She tried to do exactly what I was yelling at the tv screen for her to do--push that punk ass off the ledge!

Oh, nice! Sandor Clegane, aka The Hound, intercepts her at the last moment, and covers up her attempt by making a show of wiping the blood at the corner of her mouth with a handkerchief.

I love it! See, what you need to realize if you haven't already (the clues were there before now) is that the Hound doesn't like to see innocents get pushed around for too long. Especially not Sansa, whom he actually has started to feel sorry for. Remember, he was brutalized himself at the hands of someone he trusted--his older brother, Gregor, aka The Mountain.

Keep this in mind for later . . .

0:14

Oh, HELLS to the YEAH!!! I thought this scene would come much later in the order of things this episode. But I'll take it!

The Greatjon basically says fuck giving his loyalty to Stannis or Renly for the Iron Throne. The only king he will serve is from the North. He lays down his sword at Robb's feet and proclaims him the King of the North. Just as in olden times before the Targaryens showed up, when Westeros had several kings dividing the lands between them.

Others take up the call, including Theon Greyjoy, Robb's best bud. Pretty soon the whole camp is chanting it:

THE KING IN THE NORTH! THE KING IN THE NORTH! THE KING IN THE NORTH!!!

Now this has become a true Game of Thrones, people! You see the significance of the show's title now? I hope so.

Wow--GOOSEBUMPS! This was taken straight from the book, and every bit as awesome still.

0:17

Hmm, I don't recall this scene between Cat and Jaime being in the first book. But I might be wrong.

She slaps the shit out of him with a fucking BRICK! LOL -- you show him your PIMP HAND there, mama Stark!

She threatens to send his head to his sister in retaliation for what happened to Ned. But Cat knows he's worth more alive. She's not stupid.

Jaime: "If your gods are real, and if they're just . . . why is the world so full of injustice?"
Cat: "Because of men like you!"
Jaime: "There are no men like me. Only me."

Damn, that was deep. And, unfortunately, I happen to agree with Jaime. He's a prick, but he's a smart prick. I also like his self-deprecation here. It sets up the beginning of what I feel is one of the greatest character arcs in all of literature.

Yup, you read me right. I said ALL of literature!

Again, you'll just have to wait and see what I mean in future episodes . . .

0:20

Ugh! This scene was quite unnecessary. And rather premature, seeing as we don't find out Cersei is sleeping with Robert's squire, Lancel Lannister, until the second or third book (I always forget which one). And--damnit woman! He's your fucking cousin!

Then again, this is the woman who's been sleeping with her twin brother all these years and even had three children by him. A cousin is actually a step toward normal for her.

Damn, she really does think her family is hot shit, doesn't she? *shudder*

0:21

Tywin Lannister just got the news that the Northmen have his son. He's livid, but he's also old school in that he doesn't show it except to order all his imbecile advisors out of his tent. All save Tyrion, where we learn that for once his father is actually proud to call him son.

Seems after all these years it's finally dawning on Tywin just how cunning and scheming his dwarf of a son truly is. He's pissed that Cersei allowed that idiot Joffrey to jeopardize all their plans by killing Ned, thereby antagonizing a large contingent of Westeros into rebellion.

Tywin: "You will go to King's Landing."
Tyrion: "And do what?"
Tywin: "Rule! You will serve as Hand of the King in my stead. You will bring that boy king to heel and his mother too, if needs be."

Tyrion is clear flabbergasted. LOL! Look at that look on his face! He can't believe his father is actually expressing confidence and pride in him, but most of all he's amazed to be treated as a son. Something so simple as that, and yet it makes a HUGE difference.

Wow, this scene is just ACES!

But of course, Tywin had to throw one more line in there just in case we were thinking he's not really an asshole after all.

Tywin: "Oh, one more thing. You will not take that whore to court."

Yup, you just know Tyrion is thinking back on Tysha now. The subject of that sad little story he told Bronn and Shae in last week's episode. He can't forgive what his father did even after all these years.

0:24

Across the Narrow Sea, things are not looking good for Daenerys. They're still camped along that precarious spot atop some desolate ridge, but it seems most of Drogo's khalasar has vanished. Only Daenerys' own sworn servants and bodyguards have remained behind. Oh, and some of the slaves from the village they recently raided--including Snooki's moms, Mirri Maz Duur. The witch that was supposed to save Drogo.

Ah man, this is so heartbreaking. Ser Jorah just informed a waking Dany that she lost her baby! The child had been stillborn and deformed, all scaly and leathery like some misshapen bat.

Um, dude, the word you're looking for is DRAGON!!!

There's more bad news. Drogo is healed from his wound, but he's pretty much a vegetable now. He doesn't speak and hardly moves. All he does is sit under the sun and stare out across the land, dazed and confused. It seems the spell kept him alive, but ripped away all that was Drogo in the process. He's really just a zombie now.

It's about time Dany learned the truth about MMD. The bitch -- er, I mean WITCH never intended to save her Sun and Stars. She wanted Drogo to feel empty and a shell of himself, exactly like she's been feeling ever since the Khal's men brutalized her and destroyed her temple.

I remember being so devastated when reading this in the book for the first time. I wonder how newcomers are taking to this revelation. I know Drogo was many people's favorite character. Or, at least, one of their favorites.

Yeah, things don't look good now at all.

Life is pretty damn harsh in this world, ain't it? As you've probably learned by now, this series does not follow predictable paths. You thought Ned would triumph over the evil Lannisters? Wrong! You thought Drogo would lead his horsemen across the sea and sack Westeros? Wrong again.

But, damn if this isn't what makes the series so freaking exciting!

Forrest Gump enters the scene and says to Dany: "Life is like a box a chocolates, child. You never know what you're gonna get."

She promptly has him tied to a horse and made to run naked behind it.

0:29

At the Wall, Jon Snow has just learned the news about his pops. Despite Maester Aemon's talking-to last episode, Jon is deciding to put family before his duty. Precisely what his oath at the heart tree with Sam said he ought not to do.

Uh-oh, this can't end well. If he's caught south of the Wall, he will be executed!

Poor Sam, he's trying to keep his best bud from doing something rash. And what does he get for his trouble? Hoof tattoos all across his face!

LOL @ Jon's direwolf belatedly running out the front gate in his master's wake. Go, Ghost, Go!

0:30

Yes! I get a Shae sighting. As I mentioned last week, I just love this actress. She totally ROCKS my WORLD!

Damn, she 's even hotter pissed off. The current subject of her ire? Why, the same as always -- Tyrion! Specifically, she's more upset at his father's decree that he wasn't allowed to take her to court when the dwarf assumes the mantle of the King's Hand.

Don't worry, darling. You should know enough about Tyrion to know that he doesn't obey rules--he breaks them!

Tyrion: "I believe the ladies at court could learn a great deal from a girl like you. Why don't you come with me? Be the Hand's Lady."

Shae gets this sly look on her face and proceeds to show Tyrion her deepest . . . er, gratitude.

Well, HELLO!

0:31

So, looks like Jon's daring midnight escape from Castle Black didn't last very long, did it? His friends come after him to put some sense into his head.

At first I didn't know who was chasing Jon through the woods. That is until that bumbling hopeless case, Sam, got himself clotheslined on a tree branch. LOL! Only Sam . . .

Whoa! That was so cool! Sam, Pyp, and Grenn surround Jon and start reciting the Night's Watch oath to him in unison. Jon is humbled by the words and you can see in his eyes that he knows he cannot abandon his friends and his duty.

Yet another scene giving me goosebumps tonight!

0:33

Oh christ, no! Damn! I knew this scene was going to come eventually tonight, but I don't think I'm prepared for it.

Oh well . . .

Dany realizes there is no hope for her Sun and Stars. She tries one last attempt to bring him back, but the Khal is unresponsive.

With no other recourse, she takes matters into her own hands and ends the mighty warrior's life . . . with a pillow to the face?

What a fucked up way to go after going through life undefeated.

R.I.P. Khal Drogo. You might have accomplished great things in this world . . .

0:35

Okay, this gets the award for most bizarre scene EVAR on Game of Thrones! It's another sexposition scene--ye gods!--although, not quite. This one's post-coital -- but it's between Ros, the hardest working whore now in all of King's Landing, and . . . Grand Maester Pycelle? Of all people!

Wowza! Who knew the old geezer had it in him?

Ick! There's something off-putting about Ros washing away at her lady parts, bare ass turned to the camera, as the old man drones on and on about all the King's he's served under in his time. There seems to be a lesson here, but the old man keeps going off on tangents. Ros hears enough and puts on a skimpy little number and beats it out of there.

LOL! You know, I never would have guessed that Grand Maester P was playing at the feeble old man all this time. He does some quick calisthenics, demonstrating to all of us that he's really a spry chicken. Then he throws on his heavy robe and Maester's chain, and stoops his shoulders before leaving for council business.

That sly devil! Guess you only survive in the King's court by making yourself appear less of a threat than others. I wonder if this guy watches Survivor.

0:39

Great! We get another "dueling spymasters" scene between Littlefinger and The Spider before the Iron Throne. Hey, haven't we seen this before?

They each get off some pretty cool jabs at each other, but ultimately this adds up to just some unnecessary dick-measuring, for which purpose I have no idea. The two men certainly never interacted this much in the book. But, then again, they didn't have their own POV chapters in the first novel, either. So who's to say these little games of will weren't going on behind the scenes anyway?

0:41

Yay, we get to see Arya again! She's sporting a cute little pixie cut now courtesy of Yoren, which to me isn't much of a disguise considering she's still wearing the same clothes everyone at the Red Keep recognizes. Not to mention Needle is strapped to her side, which I imagine would raise red flags to any City Watchmen or Kingsguard . . . but whatever.

In the squalid, retched alleyways of Flea Bottom, Yoren of the Night's Watch tutors Arya in her new identity.

"You're Arry now, hear me? Arry the orphan boy. No one asks an orphan too many questions, cuz nobody gives three shits."

Yoren goes on to explain the importance of maintaining her disguise as an orphan boy amidst the rough crowd he's going to be taking back to the Wall as new recruits.

"Half of 'em would turn you over to the king quick as spit for a pardon. And the other half would do the same, except they'd rape ya first! So keep to yourself, and when you piss do it in the woods--ALONE!"

Wow. Arya's come a long way since stealing arrow shots from her brother Bran back at Winterfell, eh?

Whoa! Yoren points out three guys in a cage, which to us who have read the books is a HUGE moment! Holy shit, I don't believe it!

See, let me just interject here for a moment. There's this really cool Braavosi character in the books who helps Arya out big time at a later point. He goes by the name of Jaqen H'ghar. For various reasons, many fans have gotten it into their heads that Jaqen may in fact be Syrio Forel in disguise! There's a reason why this could be plausible, which I won't go into now. Arya never picks up on it in the books, although she does wonder at one point. But Jaqen is supposed to come from an ancient Braavosi order who's members are known for their supernatural ability to disguise themselves.

It's possible--just MAYBE--that Jaqen might be Syrio. I bring this up because I find it interesting that Jaqen is the one guy in the cage who is covered up with a cowl and robe. We never see his face! In the books, however, he is not covered up.

Is this the showrunners messing with us book fans? Or is this foreshadowing?

Time will tell.

Anyway, Arya runs afoul of some other little boys being sent to the Wall. These kids are as rotten as rotten can get! In the book (this scene is taken from the second novel, btw), the skinny one is named Lommy Greenhands. His arms aren't green here in the show, but they're supposed to be! He gets them from being a dyer's apprentice. The fat one who gives Arya a particularly hard time is, of course, HOT PIE! Oh my god, it's him!

Hot damn, they nailed him perfectly!

After standing about as much of the bullying as she can, Arya shows them the fear of god by pulling Needle on Hot Pie.

"I already killed one fat boy . . . I'm good at killing fat boys. I like killing fat boys!"

Everybody in Flea Bottom pause and look around to see if Prince Markie Dee, Kool Rock-Ski, and Buff Love come beat-boxing their way onto the scene--but nope, nothing. The Fat Boys will live on FOR-EVAH!!!

Oh shit! Looks who's here to help Arya out. Why, it's GENDRY!!!

Do any of you remember Gendry from an earlier episode? He's the armorer's apprentice from the Street of Steel who Ned came to visit. If you recall, Ned discovered what Jon Arryn already knew about the boy--he's really King Robert's bastard son, and potential heir to the throne. Too bad he doesn't know this. I love that he's carrying his iconic horned helm from the books--the helm he made himself and refused to hand over to Ned.

Hmm, it seems his employer kicked him out. Presumably this is because Robert died and the money flow going to the armorer to look after the boy thus died with him. Anyway, Gendry has Arry's back, so that makes him cool in my book. He immediately sets off on Hot Pie.

Gendry: "Oh you like picking on the little ones, do you? You know I've been hammering an anvil these past ten years--when I hit that steel it sings! You're gonna sing when I hit you?"

LOL! Between Arya and Gendry, I think Hot Pie just shitted like ten pounds away into his trousers.

Yoren gathers all the recruits and delivers one of the coolest lines in this entire episode:

"Come on, you sorry sons of whores! It's a thousand leagues from here to the Wall, and WINTER IS COMING!"

Fuck yeahs!

0:44

Speaking of the Wall . . .

The morning after Jon's short-lived escape attempt, Commander Mormont lets slip at breakfast that he's wise to what Jon's been up to.

Jon looks about to piss himself!

Lord Mormont: "Don't look so terrified. If we beheaded everyone that ran away for the night, only ghosts would guard the Wall."

It would have been cool if Jon's direwolf, Ghost, looked up at that and said: "One already does, thank you very much!"

Still, that was a very awesome line. The Mormonts, whether at the Wall or across the Narrow Sea, kick ass on this show!

Lord Jeor reveals to Jon that the rangers are reporting rumors of a large amassing of wildlings beyond the Wall. And more and more blue-eyed corpses are being discovered closer to the Wall each day. Their brothers over at Eastwatch were wise enough to burn them on sight, however.

The Commander has a plan. Rather than sit behind the Wall waiting for trouble to come to them, the Night's Watch are going to launch a preemptive strike into the heart of wildling territory.

The troops are gathering. This is it, folks! Jon is finally going to venture out into the true wilderness and perhaps find out what the hell happened to his uncle Benjen.

Mormont: "So I'll only ask you once, Lord Snow. Are you a brother of the Night's Watch? Or a bastard boy who wants to play at war?"

Are you excited? Because if you're not, you just might be a wight yourself. In which case, watch yourself. Jon's coming to BURN that ass!

0:47

Oh. My. GAWD! The scene I've been waiting all season for. This is it, people. After this, the first book in the series ends. Wisely, the showrunners knew they, too, would have to end this spectacular season on the same note.

Oooh, I so can't wait. They better not fuck this up, I SWEAR to the Old Gods!

Dany has Khal Drogo's body placed on a funeral bier, along with the three petrified dragon's eggs. She grants all the slaves who have remained with her their freedom, and asks that they stay and fight alongside her anyway. Some leave, but a good number remain.

Ser Jorah Mormont begs for Dany not to do what she's about to do. But, no, the Dragon does not fear fire. The Targaryen house motto is "Fire and Blood," after all. There's a reason for that.

That horrid witch woman, Mirri Maz Duur is brought out and tied to the bier. She laughs and proclaims that they will not hear her scream.

Dany: "I will!"

She kisses Jorah tenderly on the cheek, then sets the pyre ablaze. As the fires gets really high and toasty, sure enough MMD's chants turn into shrill shrieks of pain.

Good. She deserves worse!

Just as the pyre is at its most intense, Dany steps forward and through the wall of flames. The remaining slaves and horsemen kneel at the sight of their khaleesi engulfed in her fiery doom. Little do they realize that a dragon does not fear fire.

0:51

HOLY SHIT!

HBO almost gave me a heart attack! The scene just faded away like as if the credits were about to roll. But, nope--we're BACK!

Hot damn! They had me worried there for a sec. They could NOT end this season without the most pivotal cliffhanger moment of them all . . .

For, the next morning we find Ser Jorah walking through the ashes left behind by the funeral fires. And in the very center of those ashes, a certain silver-haired figure glances up, completely nude save for the strange creature nuzzling at her bare breasts.

Daenerys Stormborn, of the House Targaryen and Mother of Dragons, rises from the ashes like the fabled phoenix. We see the creature in her arms is a baby dragon--and there, another one! Climbing over her shoulder. And at her feet, a third little drake clawing up her fleshy thigh!

Jorah drops to his knees and proclaims: "Blood of my blood!" It's what bloodriders say to their new Khal. The others at camp do the same.

Dany looks out over their bowed backs. She stands there like a goddess reborn, looking down at her worshipers and decrying the dawning of a new era. An era when dragons return and lay waste to all the enemies who dare oppose their mother.

She will name them Rhaegal, Drogon, and Viserion after her older brother who died before she was born, her husband, and her crazy-eyed other brother. I think the one on her leg is Viserion, and the one at her breast is Drogon. The one on her shoulder has to be Rhaegal, the boldest of the bunch. He spreads his wings proudly and screeches his arrival to the world.

And for the first time in hundreds of years, the night comes alive with the music of dragons!

END CREDITS

So.

I mean, honestly, what more can be said? Although I know it was telegraphed to the seven hells and back, and everyone knew it was coming, that closing scene was just BAD ASS!

DRAGONS people! Can you believe it? There are DRAGONS back in the world again! And they all belong to Daenerys!

Also, things are ramping up pretty big time on all other fronts. Robb is proclaimed the King in the North. Arya's on her way home. Tyrion's coming to King's Landing to lay down the pimp hand and set things straight. And the Night's Watch is on the march behind the Wall!

To say the deck is set heavily in favor of a second season like you'll never forget is a severe understatement. I wish I could just hibernate now and wake up in April of 2012, this way it will be like I'm getting my fix right away with no withdrawal months in between.

On the bright side, next April is only less than 10 months away--not even a full year! And somewhere in that time we'll get the Blu-rays of season one.

So, what did you guys think? Was it all that and a bag of chips? Or did the season fall short of your expectations?

More importantly, for those of you who have never read the books: are you thinking of starting now? Is it because you just HAVE to know what happens next?

I can understand that. I just ask that, if you go this route, you start with the first book in the series--A Game of Thrones--and not jump immediately to A Clash of Kings. Even though season 1 ended exactly where the first novel left off--and the season as a whole stayed pretty damn close to the book--there is still quite a lot you missed out on, especially the little nuances that flesh out the characters and their backgrounds. Fans are still pissing mad that they left out the "Tower of Joy" flashback/dream Ned had in the book.

Also, too bad you guys can't get your hands on the first edition of the book. I picked it up way back in '96 or '97 based solely on the very cool artwork on the front, which depicts Jon Snow and Ghost riding beyond the Wall. Check out Longclaw strapped to his side!

Unfortunately, the new editions of A Game of Thrones all have the HBO promo artwork on the cover. Doesn't quite have the same punch for me.

But others might wish to remain fresh and unspoiled for the next season. This is fine, too. I'm this way with True Blood. I've never read the books, and I have no plan to. That's a show I'm more than happy to watch in complete innocence of what might be coming next. And besides, they don't stick as closely to the Sookie Stackhouse books with True Blood as they do with Game of Thrones. At least from what my wife tells me.

Well, if you're of a mind to do so, please sound off in the comments section below. And thank you all so much for sticking with this series of blog entries through thick and thin. I hope it was as fun for you to read as it was for me to write.

Till next year.

And, yes . . . Winter is STILL coming!

If You Loved Him As Khal Drogo . . .

2011-06-18T00:44:00.000-04:00

Perhaps you'll love Jason Momoa as this summer's Conan: The Barbarian?

Yup, they went and rebooted the Conan film franchise. You knew they would one of these days, though, right? I mean, really nothing is sacred in Hollywood anymore.

But you know what? As much as the fanboys of the original Arnie film from the early 80s are bitching over this . . . I have to say this upcoming version of Conan feels more like the source material to me. Well, hell, let me show you guys the trailer so you can see what I mean:

See, to me, this world looks and feels more like Robert E. Howard's Hyboria than the John Milius movie did. The Conan I know and love always had this Lovecraftian feel to it, which this trailer definitely evokes. And Momoa's take on Conan seems a lot more true to the original pulp stories than Arnie's could ever dream of matching.

Of, course all I've seen so far are trailers and tv spots, so it's quite likely this movie could end up being nothing like REH's Conan and more like the Arnie flick than I realize. But for now I'm willing to give it the benefit of the doubt that the filmmakers were smarter than to try and rip off Milius's movie.

I loved the 80s Conan films, don't get me wrong. But I'm not going to pretend I'm not interested in a new take. Yes, the effects look kinda like SyFy channel budget effects -- but I'm still going to be there in the theaters for this. Yes indeed.

Anyone else there with me?

TV Music Shouldn't Be This Good

2011-06-16T21:50:00.000-04:00

I was reminiscing today, as I often do, about my favorite tv shows in recent memory. And, so, of course I eventually came to the Ron Moore remake of Battlestar Galactica, which is in the top three of my favorite sci-fi shows of all time (Star Trek: The Next Generation and Firefly are the other two). But more importantly, I started to ponder on the music from this show -- which is just absolutely PHENOMENAL!

What always tickles me to this day about the music from BSG is just how huge the composer, Bear McCreary, has become since the series first began. It's like I hear him everywhere I go now. He's in high demand, going on to do some very memorable scores for such shows as: Eureka, The Sarah Connor Chronicles, The Cape, The Walking Dead, Caprica, and Human Target (1st season only).

It seems no matter which show he touches, the music for it becomes instantly memorable. In particular, his expertise seems to be at creating really catchy opening credits themes. Case in point, the opening for the very first season of Human Target. When they switched to a different composer for the second season, I almost stopped watching the show. That's how good the music for the first season was.

Listen to the opening theme here. Now contrast that with the opening theme from the second season here, composed by Tim Jones. Ugh -- what is that shit, right?

Anyway, back to Battlestar Galactica. I'm not going to link to the opening theme (there were two of them), but instead I will focus on the pivotal MASTERPIECE known as track 17 of the Season 2 soundtrack titled: "Prelude to War."

I mean, damn, this was masterful! Especially when the Japanese taiko drums show up halfway through. Yup, you read me right -- mother-effing TAIKO drums! They were Bear's signature touch throughout the show's entire run, but never moreso than in this piece. Curiously enough, I went online and found a vid of Bear playing the piece on piano. He even covers the drums somehow (beginning at the 2:50 mark in the vid). It has to be seen/heard to be believed:

Now, wasn't that just made of pure awesome? This guy is GOOD! The fully orchestrated version of the piece played near the end of episode 10 in season 2, when the Galactica and Pegasus squared off against each other. You can hear that version by clicking here.

Arrrrrgh! I just love this so much!

And, yes, if any of you have not watched Battlestar Galactica, you're missing out BIG TIME!!! I didn't much care for the 80s original back in the day. It was such an obvious Star Wars cash-in back then. But the remade series which began in 2003 and ended a few years back needs to be watched by all sci-fi fans. At least, in my opinion it does.

And Bear McCreary is a big part of that.

Trust Me, You Don't Want To Mess With This

2011-06-16T12:29:00.003-04:00

Yet another entry in the Batista commuter saga, NYC subway edition.

So, I get on the crowded 4 train this morning to get to work. As usual, all the ass clowns are standing by the door, even though the interior of the car still has plenty of wiggle room. And per usual, too, no one wants to move out of the way as we all try to board.

So I say "excuse me" to get by this one asshole, but he doesn't move. I say it again, and still nothing. Hey, I just gave this dude my "two warnings, fair game" rule, which means that now I get to shoulder your dumb ass aside with much prejudice. And when I shoulder someone, let's just say it's not pleasant. I've been told it feels like the grill of a Mac truck hitting you dead on.

So this guy decides to get offended and mouth off at me. Right there in front of everyone. I let him spew off a few choice syllables, the whole time not saying anything but giving him my patented STARE OF DOOM! Yes, I was wearing my shades, but the STARE burns through the opaque windows baring the rage of my soul to those fools stupid enough to test me:

This is how I normally look when I ride the subway, by the way. I call it my "subway armor" for reasons to be made clear shortly. I was wearing these exact same shades today, and giving this exact same look. Except, minus the mock turtleneck and leather bomber naturally (the pic was taken back in February). This look is my "fuck off or DIE" look. Most people get the point and know to leave me well the hell alone.

This guy mouthing off this morning did, too. After a few seconds. See, I find that the best way to deal with potential fight scenarios is to simply stare at the person and never say one word. It gets them piping mad at first, sure, but when you keep spouting bullshit and the other person is simply staring you down the entire time, silent as death, pretty soon you start to feel a tad foolish. Maybe even frightened.

I have that effect. If the look isn't enough, my size backs me up. Most people don't want to take on what I bring to a fight. They talk a lot of shit, but when it comes time to put up or shut up, they eventually back down and . . . yup, shut the hell up.

Same with this fool. It was quite funny, actually. He started off all hot and belligerent. Then, as it became obvious that I was plotting to murder him behind those shades without a single word spoken, his sentences trailed off to gibberish, and then nothing. Everyone else in the train was smirking or outright laughing at this imbecile.

He got off at the next station. Wise decision on his part.

Here's the thing: I don't ever start fights. Some people ride the subway just looking for an excuse to get into trouble. I know this. So in situations like the one I just described above, I usually stare at the offender until he wizens up and decides to take his particular brand of bullshit somewhere else. But in the off chance that's not enough, I calmly tell the person to "do something" about it.

What I mean when I say this is: Hey, if you feel so strongly about your convictions, ignorant peon, then put your grievances to action. I'm standing right here; take me on!

The purpose of this is to get the person to throw the first punch. I'll never initiate it myself, because this is how people end up taking a nice overnight trip to the Riker's Island holding facility. Whoever makes the first move in an altercation is ALWAYS the bad guy. But the minute the person throws that first punch, I'm free to open up a can of whup-ass on them. And -- oh trust me, no one wants that!

Once again, proof why it takes a certain type to survive in this zoo we call the Big Apple. I'm only this way because I was born here and had to learn to adapt to survive to adulthood. Especially as a male trying to simply do the right thing and stay out of trouble. My outward appearance is such as to discourage most would-be offenders from even thinking they can take me on. It's a strategy that works far better than you'd think.

So, that was my morning. How was your commute?

Ep. 9 Reactions: "Baelor"

2011-06-15T13:03:00.003-04:00

Well, here we are. The penultimate episode of Game of Thrones in what has been a fulfilling season far exceeding expectations. And yet, sadly for those of us who have read the first book, the title of tonight's showing clearly brings home a certain fateful event that will transpire. One which, to this viewer at least, lends me a heavy heart in anticipation of what's about to come.

But as the British say: stiff upper lip, ol' chap!

And so, mentally fortified, I pick up the remote and switch to my trusty Tivo HD box where tonight's episode is already queued up. But before I do, please take a moment to check out my previous episode reactions by clicking their appropriate links below:

Episode 1: "Winter is Coming."
Episode 2: "The Kingsroad."
Episode 3: "Lord Snow."
Episode 4: "Cripples, Bastards, and Broken Things."
Episode 5: "The Wolf and the Lion."
Episode 6: "A Golden Crown."
Episode 7: "You Win or You Die."
Episode 8: "The Pointy End."

And now . . . the show must go on.

======================================

BAELOR

0:00

Preview clip reminds us that Ned is locked in the dungeon, Tyrion has reunited with his father at his battle camp, and Robb is at the head of a huge horde of some 20,000 northmen heading south to crush the Lannisters' armies. Seems the Game of Thrones is about to start right proper here in this episode. Glad we at least know who the players are now. Or do we?

0:02

Oh man, I wasn't expecting a change in the opening sequence tonight -- although I should have! With Catelyn no longer at The Eyrie, and her sister no longer of any significance for the remainder of the book, I should have expected that location to be removed from the game map. In its place is a new location north of King's Landing and south of Winterfell, around the area known as the Riverlands.

Yes my friends, it is The Twins, domain of Lord Walder Frey, bannerman to Lady Catelyn's father. I mentioned in last week's reactions entry that The Twins was the key to Robb advancing farther south. We shall see how this works out for him tonight.

Oh, and hey! We have ourselves a new director finally. One Alan Taylor. I imagine he must be a more than capable director to have been given the reins on what is probably the most pivotal set of chapters in the first book. Can't wait to see his mettle tested here.

0:04

The Master of Whispers, Lord Varys, visits Ned in the dungeon once again. Somehow this fat eunuch is able to slip in and out of the place at will, disguised as a gaoler. He tells Ned that he's going to die for his vaulted morals and scruples, but that he can live and take the black at the Wall, serving alongside his brother and son, if he would only tell Cersei what she wants to hear and confess to the court. Seems she's more worried about Robert's ruthless warrior brother, Stannis, who's intent on seizing the throne now that he suspects the true parentage of Cersei's children.

Varys claims he's only trying to keep the realm from war and bloodshed.

Ned cautions the Spider against believing that he values his own life so precious as to betray all that he stands for.

". . . I grew up with soldiers. I learned to die a long time ago."

Varys calls this a pity. He turns to leave, but then stops and tries one last tactic.

"What of your daughter's life, my lord? Is that a precious thing to you?"

Got you there, Ned.

It always amazes me when honorable men are so blinded by honor that they can't see how their enemies may use those they love against them instead. This is why honor be damned--sometimes you have to fight fire with fire!

If I were Ned, I would tell that ice bitch of a queen all she needs to hear in order that I might live to plot and get my revenge another day. But maybe that's just me.

Damn, things are looking grim indeed.

0:08

Ah, THE TWINS!!! Wow, they look absolutely GORGEOUS! Better than I ever imagined them from the books. The Twins represent the fortified crossing over the Green Fork river, granting access to the Riverlands and the rest of Westeros to the south, and to the Neck and Winterfell to the north. Lord Walder Frey sits atop this river, and he's a crusty curmudgeon of an old bastard. It's he whom decides who gets to pass through the gates and over the bridge.

He also has like a gazillion children, from various different wives, mistresses and servants over the many years. He's known as the "Late" Walder Frey because, at the Battle of the Trident 17 years earlier, he waited until the tides had already changed in favor of Robert Baratheon to send his own forces in support of Lady Catelyn's father and the rebels.

LOL! Theon Greyjoy is putting his archery skills to good use, shooting down messenger ravens as they leave the Twins. Cat fears the Freys may be trying to communicate in secret code with Tywin Lannister's forces, trying to see which side offers him the best deal.

But if Robb means to cross and meet Tywin's army on even footing, he'll need Walder Frey's permission. However, the old man is still angry that Catelyn's father refused to marry her to one of his sons, or her brother to one of his daughters, so many years ago.

Catelyn decides that it's too risky for Robb to go inside and meet with the lord of the castles himself. He could be taken hostage or killed outright to serve as an offering to the Lannisters. Because of her standing and her family's history with the Freys, she makes the decision to go alone herself.

Damn, that's a brave woman!

10:00

Ick! Lord Walder Frey is even more slimy and lecherous on screen than he was in the book. He has some young teenage strumpet sitting on his left side, who he steals a pinch off of every now and then. He's rather rude to Cat.

Old fucker better watch himself with that shit!

He tells all his many children to go fuck off so that he can speak with Cat in private, smacking the girl on her backside to send her off as well.

"Do you see that? Fifteen she is--a little flower." He licks his old man lips. "And her honey's all mine!"

He's probably doing this to unnerve Catelyn, but this is Eddard Stark's wife you're dealing with here. She's of the north now, asshole. Her blood is as icy as Winter!

Hmmm, looks like old man Walder is going to take some convincing . . .

13:00

At the Wall--yay! My favorite place in the show, as it was in the books. Things are simpler here, more workaday like. Although, after what happened a few nights earlier with that business with the wight, this might be changing rather quickly . . .

Lord Commander Jeor Mormont gives Jon Snow a present. It's his family's sword--Longclaw!

Oh FUCK YEAHS!

I've been waiting for this moment! Like Ned's great sword, Ice, this sword is made of Valyrian steel. The best and strongest steel in all the lands. The sword was meant to go to Mormont's son, Jorah, but now that his son dishonored the family and is living in exile with the Dothraki, the Commander decides that Jon is the most worthy person to have it now. Especially after saving his bacon the other night.

Jon is clearly touched. Shit, I would be too. I want that sword!!!! When he shows it off to his friends, Sam has some troubling news delivered by raven from King's Landing. Jon learns that his half-brother, Robb, is marching south to make the Lannisters pay for what they did to their father. He wishes he can leave the Wall to join him in rescuing Ned.

17:00

Cat returns to Robb's camp from the Twins. She has good news . . . and bad news. But of course! There's always a catch, ain't there?

The good news? Lord Frey has agreed to let Robb's men pass across the river, along with additional numbers of his own men thrown in. In return, he asks that Robb take one of his sons, Olyver, as his squire, with the expectation of making the young Frey a knight after the fighting's done.

Robb: "Fine, fine. And?"

And, uh, yeah. That's the bad news, son. It seems that the old man intends to marry another one of his sons--Waldron--to Arya, when the two come of age.

Yeah, good luck making that happen. Arya now knows how to use the "pointy end" as we saw for ourselves last episode. On that wedding night, it might not be the Frey boy doing the poking, if y'all know what I mean.

Yeah, and that ain't even the worse part. Robb will also be expected to marry one of Walder's daughters, too. He has free pick of the litter, though, so that should help.

Wait, what?

Robb: "Did you get a look at his daughters?"
Cat: "I did."
Robb: "And?"
Cat: "One was . . ."

She can't even finish the sentence. That bad, eh?

Meanwhile, Theon is cracking the fuck up! Damn, dude. I think Robb just got PUNK'D!!! But Ashton Kutcher never comes running out of the back tent with camera crew in tow. Sucks to be you, kid. You might want to hope you don't make it out of the battle. I don't know which fate is worse, actually.

Double damn.

But Robb's a good laddie. He knows that, with war, hard decisions need to be made. He accepts the terms.

Ladies and gentlemen -- I think we got ourselves a battle ahead. Hot DIGGITY!

The next morning we see Robb's forces, joined by Frey men, crossing the Twins. Part of the army splits and heads south toward the Trident. . . while the larger portion heads west toward Riverrun.

If you smell yourself some strategy a-brewing here, you just earned yourself a horn of ale!

19:00

Jon, acting all emo and shit, heads up to the rookery where he finds old Maester Aemon chopping up raw giblets for his many messenger ravens. For a blind man, he's sure as hell handling that knife with wanton disregard for his fingers.

While Jon moodily assists with feeding the hungry birds, Maester Aemon explains why it is that men of the Night's Watch do not take on wives or father any children. It's so that their hearts are always on their duty to the Wall, and not on any loved ones.

Seems he knows why Jon is tormented.

Aemon: "We're all human. Oh, we all do our duty when there's no cost to it. Honor comes easy then. But, sooner or later in every man's life, there comes a day when it is not easy. A day when he must choose."

Jon cranks up the emo dial past 11, yelling that the old man doesn't know what it's like. No on does!

So then the old man sets him straight, revealing a long held secret about his past that perhaps only Lord Mormont alone knows at the Wall. It turns out that the Maester of Castle Black was already an old man, too feeble to do anything, when his own noble family was in trouble. He goes on to describe the rebellion 17 years ago -- Robert's rebellion against the Mad King Aerys Targaryen

LOL! Jon is shook! Realization dawns in his eyes as he regards the old man anew. The Maester is none other than Aemon Targaryen--the Mad King's great uncle!

To those of you who read George R. R. Martin's Dunk & Egg novellas (or the graphic novelizations thereof) -- this makes him the older brother of Egg -- aka, the future King Aegon V, grandfather to Aerys II.

I hope your minds are properly blown. I know mine was when I first learned this. Jon is in the presence of royalty!

It also means Daenerys is not the only Targaryen still alive. Although what good that does her so many thousands of leagues away remains to be seen.

Aemon: "I will not tell you to stay or go. You must make that choice yourself, and live with it for the rest of your days. As I have."

0:23

Speaking of the silver-haired Targaryens, we're taken across the Narrow Sea to find Khal Drogo is in dire straits. He's feverish and completely out of it, a legacy of the now festering chest wound he received last episode. When he falls off his horse--something that would normally disqualify a Khal from rule--Daenerys is quick to her husband's side.

Qotho, the Khal's chief bloodrider, seems ready to write him off already, but the Khaleesi tells him to bring the Godswife, Mirri, who was supposed to be healing Drogo's wound.

Qotho causes a big stink over this, and it's clear he's all ready to disobey this khaleesi who is really nothing but a lowly foreign woman in his eyes. But because Drogo is still alive, he reluctantly does as he's told.

0:24

Tyrion shows up at his father's main tent, where Tywin is having dinner with his top lords and generals. But when he learns that he's to ride the vanguard with his mountain clansmen of the Vale, Tyrion looses his appetite and leaves. The frontlines is likely to get him killed in a hurry, which is probably just as his father intends.

Damn, that's some cold shit right there.

It's clear that there really is no love lost between father and son. Tywin despises him that much, and is the one person Tyrion will never be able to influence with his wit and charm.

0:26

Meanwhile, back at Tyrion's sumptuously appointed tent, the dwarf walks in to find Bronn has brought him a present. And a pretty one at that!

Oh my god--it's SHAE! I can't believe I finally get to see what she looks like. Mmmm, not bad. In fact, I like her a lot. She's nothing like the camp follower described in the book, of course. Darker here, and not from Westeros. This was a change made to accommodate the actress--German-born Sibel Kekili--and her accent.

Personally, I think she's way hotter than how I imagined Shae from the books. Something about her face really does it for me. So I'm stamping her with the Batista seal of approval, right on her lovely forehead!

Tyrion asks Bronn where he found a whore so pretty at this late hour.

Bronn: "I took her."
Tyrion: "Took her? From whom?"
Bronn: "From, eh . . .what's his name? I don't know -- ginger cunt, three tents down."
Tyrion: "And he didn't have anything to say about it?"
Bronn [smirks]: "He said something."

OH MY GOD! That's fucking hilarious! Bronn was always one of my favorite characters in the book, and now he has the same standing in this show. This dude is pure badASS!

LOL! @ Tyrion stating the terms of Shae's contract:

Tyrion: "I want you to share my tent. I want you to pour my wine, laugh at my jokes, rub my legs when they're sore after a day's ride. I want you to take no other man to bed for as long as we're together. And . . . I want you to FUCK me like it's my last night in this world. Which it may well be."

But Shae is a shrewd and cunning woman herself. She's Tyrion's match in a lot of ways.

Shae: "And what do I get?"
Tyrion: "One, safety. No one will hurt you for as long as you're mine. Two, the pleasure of my company -- which I have heard is SPECTACULAR!"
Shae: "Who told you this? Women you paid?"
Tyrion: "And, three: more gold than you could spend if you lived a thousand years."

Ding, ding, ding! Instant panty remover!

Shae readily accepts the terms and gets right to business . . . stripping down and climbing atop the dwarf man.

"Let's start with your last night in this world."

0:29

The Dothraki have made camp so that Drogo's wounds may be tended to.

Uh-oh, I think this is the scene where we get our first whiff of truly dark magics at work in this world. At least, we did in the book.

Inside the Khal's tent, Daenerys meets with Ser Jorah Mormont who tells her that her husband won't survive the night. Dany refuses to believe this, even though Drogo is feverish and beyond communication. Ser Jorah suggests they run for it while they still can. Once the Khal is dead, the new one will not suffer her or her unborn child to live.

Dany believes her new people will be loyal. Yeah, good luck with that.

Qotho brings in Mirri Maz Duur, who takes one look at the wound and knows it is all over. Qotho blames Dany for letting the "witch" put her hands on their Khal. He won't follow her anymore once the "blood of his blood" is dead.

Qotho: "When he dies, she is nothing."
Dany: "I have never been nothing. I am the blood of the dragon."

Hmm, she's sounding a lot like her late brother Viserys. She's even got some of that "crazy eyes" action going on, too.

Qotho leaves the tent abruptly. Dany tells Jorah he better go put on his armor. Jorah agrees.

Now we get to the interesting part. Drogo is beyond any healer's skill, but Dany asks the Godswife to use magic to bring him back.

Mirri's eyes light up. Hmm, if it were me, that right there would have been a warning. But Dany is too desperate to see it.

MMD confirms that there is a spell that might work, but that it is very dangerous. It requires a life for a life.

Is Daenerys willing to pay that price for Drogo? You bet his horse she is!

No, I mean literally. They bring a scared horse into the tent, and right then and there Mirri slits its throat!

SEVEN HELLS! Blood goes splattering everywhere -- all over the tent, all over Drogo, all over Dany. It's fucking insane!

The healer orders everyone out of the tent for what will come next.

"You must go also, Lady. Once I begin to sing, no one must enter the tent. The dead will dance here tonight."

0:35

Outside the tent, the entire khalasar is gathered in fright as strange otherworldly sounds scream from within.

Holy shit, the sound effects here are SPOOKY! Gives me chills, no lie.

Ser Jorah is now in his armor, and none too soon. For Qotho shows up, mad as hell and not going to take it anymore!

He tries to enter the tent, but Jorah calls him out. The two fight, and Qotho learns the lesson Rakharo was taught back in episode three: Dothraki curved blades are no match against full plate armor.

OUCH!

Well, that's the end of the Qotho conundrum, but of course he won't be the only challenger for the title of Khal.

Meanwhile, however, Jorah has more immediate concerns. Dany falls to the ground grasping her belly. Hey, thanks HBO. It's the only way I know of to tell if a woman is about to give birth. Books, schmooks. I learned all I never needed to know in life from tv!

With Dany in great pain, Jorah has no choice but to pick her up and head for the tent where all the demonic growling and crazy singing is coming from.

Uh, dude? Are you fucking DEAF? You really think it's a good idea to bring a woman in labor into a devil worshiping rave?

No, this can't be good.

0:37

Back in Tyrion's tent, the merry trio are playing drinking games when the dwarf suggests the Westerosi version of "I Never."

Bronn: "This sounds like a boring game."
Tyrion: "It's not. I make a statement about your past. If I'm right, you drink. If I'm wrong, I drink. And no lying! I'll know if you're lying."

Shae refuses to play, so Tyrion starts on Bronn first. He correctly guesses three things about his sellsword companion, increasing in order of incredulity: one, that Bronn was beaten by his father. Two, that he killed a man before the age of 12. Well, actually Tyrion gets that one sorta wrong. Bronn tells him it was a woman!

He looks at Shae and explains: "She swung an axe at me!"

And, three, Tyrion surmises that he has been beyond the Wall.

Shae: "What brought you up there?"
Bronn: "Work."

However, when Tyrion turns his impressive powers of deduction on his lady companion--utilizing all the tired clichés one can imagine for why someone might be engaged in the sex trade--he falls dead flat on all accounts. Turns out Shae was not the daughter of a whore, her father did not abandon the family, and she did not fall into the trade out of poverty, despair, and a desire to see the wider world.

Wrong, wrong, wrong. LOL! Tyrion is forced to do a lot of drinking, and he's utterly baffled by this strange and wonderful woman sitting across from him now.

Wow, I like this scene! The dynamic at play here between all three characters is brilliant to watch..

Next up, however, Tyrion is forced to reveal a deep secret about his past which no one else knows saves his immediate male relatives.

Seems the dwarf was once married! Peter Dinklage should win an Emmy just for this scene alone. He recounts the tale with such candor and aplomb that I found myself hanging on his every word. And what a story it is!

When he was 16, he and his brother Jaime came upon a girl being chased through the woods by men who had just raped her. Jaime went on a merry long chase after the men, while Tyrion came to the girl's aid and put her up at the nearest inn, nursing her back to good health on roasted chicken and wine. The two hit it off and went to bed together. The next day, they found a drunken Septon and were married right then and there.

It was a dreamy two weeks of marital bliss that followed . . . until the Lannister patriarch caught wind of it and forced Jaime to confess his prank. Seems the girl, Tysha, was really a whore paid for with Lannister gold to give Tyrion his first taste of a woman. They were never really married. To prove the point, Tywin had his men take Tysha into the next room and have their way with her one at a time for the payment of a single silver coin from each. Tyrion was forced to sit there and watch the entire time.

By the end, Tysha was swimming in silver . . . and Tyrion lost of his innocence about the way of the world and his particular place in it.

Whoa, another fucked up Tywin Lannister moment! Is it no wonder I told you all he's the Big Bad of Game of Thrones?

And trust me, it only gets worse!

0:44

The next morning, Tyrion is a little groggy headed but in great spirit due to Shae's expert ministrations the night before. That is until Bronn walks in and rudely reminds him that the battle is starting without him!

As Tyrion climbs into his armor and rushes out, the sellsword has some advice for his first time at war:

Bronn: "Stay low."
Tyrion: "Stay low?"
Bronn: "If you're lucky, no one will notice you."
Tyrion: "I was born lucky."

Tyrion meets up with his Mountain Men brigade, and he delivers them what he thinks should be a rousing speech.

"Tribesmen of the Vale, gather 'round! Your dominion over the Vale begins now. Onward to claim what is yours!"

The clansmen sing his praises. They're rip-roaring ready to get this party started, and Tyrion is genuinely surprised by their support of him. They cry out "Half-Man, Half-Man, Half-Man!!!"

Russell Crowe, dressed as Maximus, wanders out and raises his arms, shouting: "Are you not entertained?"

But the dwarf outshines him, screaming: "To battle!"

Unfortunately, as the men rush off to meet doom or glory on the battlefield, one of the tribesmen inadvertently clobbers Tyrion on the head with a large battle hammer, knocking him out cold!

LOLlerskates!

Looks like the little man's luck is good after all, for he misses the entire battle! When he awakes, the day has already been won by the Lannisters.

What the fuck? What happened to the big battle from the book? Not just one, but TWO battles, in fact! Arrgh! I know HBO had a limited budget for this show, and that we only have one more episode left after this -- but PISS ON THAT! I wanted my gory fight scenes!

This is some BULL to the motherfucking SHIT!

Anyway, whatever. I'll live. It seems that while Tyrion slept like a baby through the whole dang affair, Robb's forces had been defeated. Bronn and Tyrion are alive to talk about it, at least. And his Vale tribesmen had apparently accorded themselves well.

But his father, Tywin, rides up just then to tell them the reality of what went down. In effect, pissing on their parade. What a Debbie Downer, boy!

Remember that Robb's forces had split after crossing the Twins? Well, seems it was part of a brilliant ruse.

Tywin: "The scouts were wrong. There were two-thousand Stark bannermen, not twenty."
Tyrion: "Did we get the Stark boy at least?"
Tywin: "He wasn't here."
Tyrion: "Where was he?"
Tywin: "With his other 18,000 men."

Tyrion is stunned by this news. "And where are they?"

It's a good question. One which we'll be finding out the answer to . . .

0:48

Now!

The scene switches to Catelyn and Ser Rodrik looking anxiously into the woods near her childhood home of Riverrun. Eventually, a small contingent of horsemen come riding out from the trees toward her.

But are they friend or foe?

She visibly breathes a sigh of relief as she recognizes Robb and his horse, riding back triumphantly. And he comes bearing a gift -- one Jaime Lannister, all trussed up and missing only a bow on his head!

Robb: "By the time they knew what was happening, it had already happened."

Yeah, boyeee! Look at Robb, strutting around and flushed from his first major victory. Is anyone reading this out there part of Team Robb now? After tonight, I should think so.

Catelyn looks like she wants to rip Jaime's head off with her bare hands. The Greatjon and Theon certainly think Robb should do the world a favor. But of course, Jaime has to try and scheme his way out of his predicament. By appealing to Robb's youth and sense of familial loyalty and honor.

Jaime: "We could end this war right now, boy. Save thousands of lives! You fight for the Starks, I fight for the Lannisters. Sword and lances . . . teeth, nails -- choose your weapons and let's end this, here and now."

Yeah, Jaime would just love that. The best sword in all of Westeros he is, remember? Luckily, Ned's eldest is far wiser than his years.

Robb: "If we do it your way, Kingslayer, you'd win. We're not doing it your way."

LOL! That's right! HAHAHA -- I love that!

Robb knows it makes more sense to keep Jaime around as a bargaining chip for the release of his father and sisters. Good man, this boy. He's shaping up to become quite the war leader, ain't he? The speech he gives to his men afterward is proof of that.

"Did we free my father? Did we rescue my sisters from the queen? Did we free the North from those who want us on our knees? This war is far from over."

Oooh, I can't WAIT for a certain pivotal scene to show up involving Robb and his army. But judging by the clock, that will probably have to wait for next week's episode.

0:50

We're back at King's Landing now. Wow, it's hard to believe the last scene here was at the very beginning of this episode.

Anyway, now we're outside the Red Keep in what I assume is Flea Bottom -- the "ghetto" of KL.

Oh, yup! There's Arya, Needle tied to her waist, running dirty while catching pigeons and snapping their necks for supper. See, Syrio's training chasing cats has paid off. Although, I'm not sure pigeon stew is something to crow about.

Heh, heh . . . get it?

Eh, never mind.

But -- uh-oh, the bells are ringing. I know what that means! And, sadly, so will you in a little while.

A pair of scruffy street urchins come running past. Arya asks them what's happening.

Boy: "They're taking him to the Sept of Baelor!"
Arya: "Who?"
Boy: "The Hand of the King!"

0:52

Arya arrives at the large central square outside the Great Sept . . . to find the place CRAWLING with spectators. She climbs the base of the huge statue of Baelor the Blessed for a better vantage point -- and spots her father!

Down below, being led bound and shackled through a screaming, cursing, hitting throng -- Eddard Stark stumbles toward the clearing. Cesei, King Joffrey--the prick!--and the entire Small Council is already waiting. Sansa's there two, oddly smiling.

Oh, you sweet dumb child. Surely even you can't be that much of an airhead, can you?

Ned turns at the right moment and catches Arya crouched by the feet of the great statue. He's relived to see that she is in fact still alive and apparently free of the Lannisters hold for the time being. But he also knows that this won't last for long.

Wow, the camera work here is AMAZING! It swoops in and out of the crowd, up and about the square, before flying back down to street level and the platform where the Royal Court awaits.

Ned bumps into Yoren of the Night's Watch on his way there. Remember this dude? He's the affable fellow Tyrion was sharing ale with back at Castle Black somewhere in episode 3. He's also the same guy who came into Ned's chambers at the Tower of the Hand to tell him that his wife had taken Tyrion Lannister prisoner. The one who thought Arya was Ned's son at first.

Yeah, him.

Ned sees him and shouts: "Baelor, Baelor!" with the hopes that the man will realize in time what he's trying to say.

And, yup, Yoren gets it! He turns quickly to the statue and sees Arya there. He makes a quick beeline for the little girl.

Ned is brought before the king and turned around to face the crowd so that he may confess his crime. You have to wonder now if he's going to stand by his principles and reveal for all to hear that Jaime is not the true heir to the throne. Or is he going to bow to the queen's checkmate and promote the lie for the sake of his family? To take his bannerman back North and then retreat to the Wall for the rest of his years so that Cersei and her family can direct their attentions toward Stannis and Renly Baratheon?

Come on, now. You don't really think he has a choice, do you?

Ned: "I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, and Hand of the King. I come before you to confess my treason in the sights of Gods and men. I betrayed the faith of my king, and the trust of my friend Robert. I swore to protect and defend his children, but before his blood was cold I plotted to murder his son and seize the throne for myself."

The crowd boos, and someone throws a stone at his head like this is Jerusalem at the dawn of the Christian era.

Ned next proclaims Joffrey the true heir and ruler of the realm.

Joffrey--that little shit!--is over the moon. He looks to his mommy dearest, who smiles back. The crowd boos some more, and Sansa has the temerity to seem shocked by their reaction.

That old, doddering fool Grand Maester Pycelle gives some bullshit spiel about the Seven showing compassion and mercy even on traitors, should they confess. In showy ritual, he asks of the king what is to be done with Eddard.

Joffrey--may he choke on a donkey's cock!--smiles and raises his hand to quiet the crowd.

"My mother wishes me to let Lord Eddard join the Night's Watch. Stripped of all titles and powers, he would serve the realm in permanent exile. And my lady, Sansa, has begged mercy for her father."

Sansa smiles at her betrothed, but has the decency at last to look just a bit nervous now. Because, damn it all if you can't hear the ominous BUT coming a mile away:

"But they've the soft hearts of women! So long as I am your king, treason shall never go unpunished."

Joffrey--that cunt whistle!--turns suddenly to where the royal executioner stands waiting.

"Ser Ilyn--bring me his head!"

The place goes absolutely APE SHIT! What's interesting to note here is the immediate reaction of those around Joffrey. Cersei is stunned and clearly upset, perhaps seeing all her plans for a peaceful resolution between the Lannisters and the Starks go up in smoke.

We see Lord Varys rushing to sway the stupid punk away from his mistake, but of course it is too late. The king can hardly go back on his decree after proclaiming it to the public at large for all to hear.

Damn, damn, damn, DAMN!!!

Arya can't believe her ears. She climbs down from the statue and runs at the platform, no doubt planning some way somehow to pull Needle and rescue her beloved father.

Aww, you gotta love her for that. Arya has no concern for her own life. All she knows to do is fight for her family!

But, luckily, Yoren is there to intercept her. He grabs hold of Arya and crushes her to his side, saying: "Don't look!"

Ser Ilyn Payne draws a huge ass broadsword of Valyrian steel from its sheath. For the more astute of you out there--yes, this is Ice. The Stark family sword. The same sword Ned used himself to behead Will, the deserter from the Night's Watch in the very first episode of the season.

We've come full circle.

Sansa is in hysterics, and Ned looks around bewildered. I have to think it's dawned on him just how wrong he's been to think these Lannister snakes were ever ones to treat fairly with. But now it's too late. Ned bows his head, ready for what's to come. He was raised a soldier, he told Varys earlier. He knows when to die.

In a nice touch, the sound goes out as he glances one last time around King's Landing. Arya, he sees, is no longer at the statue. You have to think he's grateful for that small comfort.

Somewhere in that dense sea of dirty faces, Yoren holds on to Arya tight. Her head's tilted back so that her eyes are pointed to the sky when the felling blow finally comes. All she sees are pigeons taking flight -- a small blessing in a cruel, unfair world.

Rest In Peace, Lord Eddard Stark.

END CREDITS

Damn, I need a moment. Excuse me . . .

*sigh*

Okay, where was I?

Yeah, that. That was just . . . damn!

I'm sure what was just witnessed took the wind out of many sails across tv land. And I'm sure some of you new to this story are pissed off to PISSTIVITY over what you saw. Yes, it's something us book fans had to deal with, too, once up a time ago. For me it was roughly 14 years ago when I first read A Game of Thrones. At the time I was numb with shock for a few days--literally!--after reading that chapter. I'd never seen anything like it in a book before. Certainly not a fantasy book, where the hero always wins eventually.

No, this was too much.

But you know what? In time I picked the book up again and continued reading to the end page. George R. R. Martin had me hooked for sure, now! This man had got me to care about a character so much, that when he died so shockingly it felt like a member of my own family had passed.

Phew! Now that's writing, folks. Seriously.

And I have to say, the directing in this episode was really top-notch. Kudos to Alan Taylor for doing such a wonderful job framing everything so expertly and satisfyingly. I like how the episode starts off with darkness and Ned breathing, only to end with the sound being dialed back until all we hear is his breathing again. Like I said before, nice touch!

I also like how Robb struggles to uphold his father's beliefs without also suffering from his same mistakes. It's a hard thing to be an honorable man in a den of thieves. Moreso in a world as ruthless and backstabbing as Westeros. Robb will have to overcome the failings of his father and learn to play the Game of Thrones better than the Lannisters. This doesn't necessarily mean he needs to stoop down to their level, but it also means he can't remain all high and lofty like his father, either.

Personally, I feel Jon is more suitable for what's about to come next. But he has his own problems.

And what about Arya? What will she do? Where will she go? Even though Sansa is effectively a prisoner at King's Landing, at least she will be treated fairly well and accorded hospitality befitting her noble standing. But if Arya wants to avoid being captured, too, she'll need to totally disappear herself.

Remember, she's only 11.

Let us not also forget that Bran and Rickon are alone in big, drafty Winterfell. And they're even younger still! What will they do once the Starks are deemed enemies of the state and ambitious lords come to take what they feel is theirs from the North?

See, Ned might be gone, but his family will now have to deal with the repercussions of what he's sown. He spared the queen out of mercy for her children, but now his children are going to live a waking nightmare for the rest of their natural lives.

Was it all worth it, Ned? Was it?

There is a big uproar in the tv watching community right now. Some people are ready to write this show off. Some are giving it one more episode for HBO to do right by them.

Uh, first of all: dudes, it's just a tv show. And, secondly: um, you might want to stop watching now then if this is your attitude. Because, honestly, if you're expecting the season finale next Sunday to wrap things up nicely, you got another thing coming. A rude awakening, in fact.

See, let me let you in a on a little secret on this ongoing series I've been enjoying for a decade and a half. Nothing is sacred! Anything bad that can happen to the characters, will happen. Any preconceived ideas you might have about where you think the plot is going--throw them out the window now! Because trust me, you'll never see it coming. Ever.

Right now, how many of you think that the war between the Lannisters and the Starks will be over next week? How many of you believe Jaime will be executed once Robb and his men find out about Ned? How many of you think Drogo will make it out of that tent alive? How many of you are betting Joffrey will get his just desserts?

Well, I'm not going to tell you you're flat out wrong about any one of these possibilities. But let's just say you better keep your money in the bank. George R. R. Martin doesn't care about you feeling good with the world when you come to the end of one of his books. He doesn't care that major plot lines are tied up with a neat bow, either. All he cares about is that the developments are real and true to life; that is, that the plot is as brutal and sometimes random as real life is. Nothing gets sugar-coated. Your favorite characters are not guaranteed to live beyond chapter 2, let alone the end of the book. Innocent children die, strong women get brutalized, and great men meet ignoble ends.

This is the harsh reality of a quasi-medieval setting. Get used to it, because you ain't seen nothing yet.

I would hope that many newcomers are mature enough and supportive of good storytelling to want to continue watching this series even after a lot of the momentous shit that is going to go down in the finale happens. If not, then give it time. It took myself a couple of days to get over it before I was finally ready to move on to the next book. Even if that next book was two years later in the coming. But look, you only have less than a year before the next season of Thrones airs! So deal with it. I did.

I will say this, however. The last scene of next week's episode--if they play it right according to the book--will leave you floored!

God, I hope they get the CGI right . . .

In any event, no matter how you feel after next Sunday's finale, please join me when I eventually get around to recapping Ep. 10: "Fire and Blood."