Dr Billy Bizmark Carbunkle

I played Dungeons and Dragons last night for the first time in forever.

As my friend D'arcy is visiting he decided to get in on the action and we spent a frenzied afternoon creating a character for him.

The process involved me hurriedly scribbling on paper as I tried to translate into the game system D'arcy's cascade of increasingly bizarre ideas. I haven't seen the movie Shine, but if there's a scene where the smart rambling guy forces another guy to write stuff down really quickly, then it was totally like Shine.

Working as a well-oiled [and well-greased - it was 40 degrees] machine, we crafted a masterpiece the likes of which has never been seen:

Dr Billy Bizmark Carbunkle

Dr Carbunkle stands only three feet tall. This is irrelevant, as his legs do not work.

Dr Carbunkle's sole means of locomotion is an eight foot tall half dragon half man, who carries him in a sack on his back.

Dr Carbunkle is blind in one eye, but compensates by wearing a telescopic monocle on his other eye.

Dr Carbunkle cultivates a variety of mushrooms in his beard, which can be crushed into a paste and applied to wounds for very little benefit.

Dr Carbunkle smites his foes by flinging rocks two-by-two from a wooden pinwheel of his own design, which he operates with a leather strap zip line.

Dr Carbunkle wears a coconut helmet, atop of which rests a reservoir of flammable herbs.

Dr Carbunkle, when hurled like a bullet into a crowd, points his coconut helmet at people who are not his friends and it bursts into flames on impact.

Dr Carbunkle also bursts into flame in the above eventuality.

Dr Carbunkle, when hurtling towards his enemies, unzips water-filled bladders attached to his chest, soaking his clothes in the hopes of keeping the burns he is about to receive to a minimum.

Dr Carbunkle, when collapsing to the floor amongst a horse of enemies while wreathed in searing flames, disappears from view.

Dr Carbunkle knows a lot about history.

Dr Carbunkle, if at a loss to recall a historical factoid, makes one up.

Dr Carbunkle is reasonably strong by gnome standards, but not by any other standards.

Dr Carbunkle is no joke.

T to the E to the L E VISION

It's been too hot here lately to contemplate any kind of actitivity that involves movement.

As such, I've been watching a lot of TV. Here's what I've been watching:

LOST: I've waited nine months for the first episode of season five, and I can say with certainty that I was not disappointed. My appreciation of the show had atrophied through lack of use, but after two short episodes, my brain is headed right back into obsession. I'll shy away from saying much, as I know I have readers who aren't caught up, but once again it's a change in narrative formula that truly excites me. That's why I love LOST, the storytelling structure is as fascinating to me as the story itself.

30 Rock: I feel like the writer's strike knocked a bit of the wind out of sails and the show is yet to recover, but it's still a damn good show. Season three has been entertaining, but a lot of episodes haven't been worth rewatching. Of course, there are few shows that I ever rewatch, so it's hardly a serious criticism. Season one, though, I have seen at least 30 times, and still put on a episode at least once a week - that was amazing television. I recently introduced a friend to season one, and sharing that has rekindled my interest.

The Wire: I have all of the episodes! Man, this show was just ... amazing. I cannot convey how satisfying and rewarding it was to have followed the show all the way through. A truly satisfying ending. I really enjoyed season 5, but I think season 4 would be my favourite. But seeing a newspaper portrayed in the final season gave me another level of enjoyment.

Doctor Who: After my recent post on The Doctor, and subsequent avalanche of "keep watching" comments I received both online and in the physical realm, I watched episode "Planet of the Ood". It was excellent. I will continue watching. And man, having Captain Darling in there as a balding bastard elevated it to a whole new level.

Battlestar Gallactica: Another show preceded by an epic wait. It was a good episode, but goddamit if it wasn't as bleak as all hell. Seriously, I'm happy to wait a while before watching again, as it was entirely depressing. Still, I'm in this one for the long haul.

I apologise for the lack of depth, but it is 45c, and my brain has partially melted.

It's really hot today.

Blogged from the hip

Australia Day

Today is Australia Day. This national holiday marks the arrival of the First fleet in 1788 and the unfurling of the British flag upon Australian soil.

It's a day that deserves celebration, but it's also a chance to reflect on the roots of our community, buried as they are through the land of another.

In Australia, a country already famed for its laid-back demeanor, our nation's birth is marked by widespread celebration, a 24-hour commitment to performing no work whatsoever, and generally the consumption of beer and barbecued meats.

The country's popular youth radio station JJJ uses Australia Day to broadcast the Hottest 100, a day-long countdown of the year's best songs as determined by listeners' votes. Because of this, Australia Day has rare significance for the young folk. Many holidays are just a day off, but everyone seems to make an effort on Australia Day. One of my fondest Australia Day memories involves me and a group of friends buying a giant bucket off KFC and strolling through the hot afternoon eating chicken and listening to the countdown on a portable radio. As we wiped the grease from our fingers we bickered about which song would be number one.

In marking the date that the first ships came to claim the country, disgorging convicts upon the newest British colony, we are also marking the point at which the aboriginal population lost control of their land.

By global standards we're a young country. We are awesome, but we've got a teenage attitude to how we deal with some stuff. There's the temper tantrums we throw when immigrants ignore the 'keep out sign' we put on our bedroom door. There's the belief that we're the centre of the universe, despite our geographical position rendering us far from the global stage. There's our innate pride at being known as big drinkers. There's the 'lah lah lah' fingers in our ears position we can adopt when faced with big issues that no-one can fix but us.

The bottom line is that Aboriginal people were living here for a long time before we decided to come along. Deeming the Aboriginal people to be inferior we just took everything they had, and followed it up with killing a whole lot of people.

It's a complex issue, and reconciling the two cultures living here will be hard. Australia Day represents that in a way. How do we celebrate a beginning while being respectful of those for whom it was an ending? It's easy enough - just don't be a dick. Of course, a lot of Australians seem to be dicks every other day, so why stop now?

The thing is, nobody should refrain from celebrating Australia Day because of this. Just be respectful and mindful of the past. Some react strongly, hence the term 'Invasion Day', which I think is a fair call. There's nothing wrong with that. But some people, when faced with the unpleasant aspects of the occasion, will resent it, and query why they must suffer the guilt of sins perpetrated long before they were born. Guilt isn't necessary - but empathy is often in short supply.

If we're the great country we celebrate, the country we say we are, the country we strive to be, then surely we can raise a glass today not only in celebration, but in hope that one day, everyone will be at the party.

Prepubescent Groupthink Attack

Today I experienced a strange five minutes, wherein I was surrounded by a group of children.

I was sitting on a bench in the main street, listlessly fiddling with my phone in the sunshine.
I was pulled from my isolation by a sudden increase in ambient sound and I raised my head.
Gathered in front of me was, I would guess, about a dozen children, bustling and noisily chatting amongst themselves, but with a few having turned their attention on me.
It was weird. I don't know if they'd been there pushing against my isolation bubble for long, but they were here now.
They seemed interested in my shirt, which has written across the front "glasses makes you sexy" as if scrawled in crayon. I'm a big fan of the shirt. They were not.
The group spoke in that raised, high-pitched tone of voice you can only really achieve when you're brushing up against the first years of teenagedom while surrounded by friends you must impress with your boisterousness.
After a general cloud of commentary where my t-shirt was read out a few times, one boy stepped forward and leaned in low to look at my phone.
"What you doin'?" He asked.
"Checking my email," I replied.
"Cool! that's cool. That's really cool."
"Why thank you," I said.
Another boy came up.
"Do you like them?" the second boy questioned, gesturing towards the phone.
"Oh, you know," I said, "it does the trick."
"Well it sucks!" He said. As he spat out the words he faced me with an expression of unconvincing venom, but his eyes darted hopefully at is compatriots.
"Oh, alright then," I said, and put the phone in my pocket."
One of the boys shouted "read his shirt read it read it" and the lone girl of the group stepped forward. Her brow furrowed as she read the slogan.
She looked at me and pointed a finger in my face.
"You're NOT sexy!" She said with surprising menace, and stormed away into a fog of laughter.
"Well, that was a tad on the fucking rough side," I replied, trying not to giggle to no-one in particular. The group was drifting off in her wake.
Then a small boy with tightly curled, brown hair came up to my side. He had a bright red plaster cast covering his entire left arm and he stood away from the others.
"Did you just swear?" He asked.
"Yes I did. Sorry," I said back.
"I'm a Christian," he said as he continued to stare at me from inches away.
"Oh ... well. I'm ... sorry?" I said, somewhat bemused by this point of the proceedings.
"Well you shouldn't swear. I'm a Christian and I hate it and you shouldn't," he stated - quickly but matter-of-factly.
"I'll try not to," I said, finally failing to suppress the smirk that had been brewing for some time.
He walked off and broke into a jog to catch up to his friends. As he did so he yelled "that guy just swore at your sister," to another member of the group.
A boy spun around and bellowed "don't you swear at my sister you fucking c__t!"
The boy with the cast and faith stiffened visibly.
Soon after they were gone and everything was once again silent.
As I stood up to leave I thought "I'm totally going to blog that".

Slow week

Slow Down .......You Clown!!, originally uploaded by fatboyke.

Alright, so this week it has been either obscenely hot or bucketing down rain, often right after the other. The resulting humidity has conspired to ensure that housebound activities are on the menu.

That ... does not explain why I am not putting up a substantial post today, save that I am covered in both rain and sweat.

And that's a rare combo.

Congrats America!

Big day. Busy basking.

PS
Today it was as hot as that bad place from the bible and then later it rained as much as it did that time in the bible.

The potential joy of the DVD commentary

I love the idea of DVD commentary tracks, which makes the disappointment all the worse when the vast majority of them turn out to be utterly terrible.

At their best, commentaries add new insight to a work; outlining the thought processes that went into it, spotlighting important information that may have been lost in the shuffle, or just making you feel like you're having a great chat at the pub with the creators of something you love.

At their worst, commentaries are boring lists of sundry facts told with little personality and punctuated by long, awkward silences.

Thinking about the commentaries I enjoy, it's obviously similar to the list of shows I enjoy. That makes sense, as they're the ones I seek out, seeking to prolong the experience. Commentaries are a considerable time sink, and if I didn't enjoy something all that much, I probably never listened to the commentary at all.

With that in mind, and with much of my impressions reduced to 'that one was good' by the passage of time, here's some commentaries I've enjoyed.

Futurama
With a lot of the creators and actors involved, and commentaries on a majority of episodes, these are great. The speakers are obviously funny people and factoids are sprinkled through a steady stream of jokes. Entertaining and illuminating.

Buffy/Angel/Firefly
I always enjoy Joss Whedon's commentaries. Given his deep involvement in his shows he has a lot to say about all aspects of the work, from plot points to camera angles. Director commentaries are often dull as they include a lot of technical exposition such as "we used lens X to get that shot" and that's not my bag. Whedon, however, gives details such as that on the way to explaining what it was trying to achieve in the mind and heart of viewer, and I dig that. He's funny too, and that helps.

Spaced
The series set of Spaced includes two commentaries for each episode. There is one set of commentaries recorded by the stars/writers and director, who discuss the show in-depth and pointing out the myriad pop-culture references at play. A second set sees them joined by guests such as Diablo Cody, Trey Parker and Kevin Smith, and are really freeform conversations about the series and its impacts. Both are good, and while there's some anecdote overlap, together they are great,

The Wire
This show - the best ever created - continues to rattle around in my brain even after completion. Anything that prolongs the viewing experience is a godsend, and with creator David Simon discussing the underlying issues and real-world source material, these commentaries are excellent.

Special mention goes to the commentary over the Transformers movie provided by Director Michael Bay. My chief complaint with the film was that it devolved into military hardware porn at the expense of the Transformers themselves. About 20 minutes into the commentary Bay waxes lyrical about being able to film some particular plane or something, and if I recall correctly expresses his view that they are vastly integral to the film. At that point I was able to turn it off with full confidence that I would never have to watch it again.

Anybody else seen any notable commentaries I can hook into, or do you find them tedious beyond measure?

Wee-oooo. wee-ee-ooooo.

The thing I like about the new series of Doctor Who, is that it is awesome.

I haven't seen it all yet. For a long while it was one of those shows I knew I'd enjoy, but had never gotten around to watching. Eventually I did and was correct.

 I watched Seasons 1, 2 and 3 in a near-constant marathon, but season 4 remains unwatched.

I can't really say why I stopped watching as season four commenced, but I think it has something to do with the Doctor's companions. He ... sometimes comes off as a jerk when interacting with them.

I realise the companion is necessary in a story sense, and they are welcome. They're our point of view and they give the Doctor someone to interact with. All good.

But the strings show sometimes. The Doctor seemed to really love Rose. When she was lost and he was heartbroken, he nonetheless picked up someone else almost immediately.

Rose's replacement - who I shall not name as a form of deep meta-commentary and not because her name escapes me - was likable and capable. She was also repeatedly spurned by the Doctor and grew to feel unappreciated. She moved on, someone else came in.

I don't know if it's the rapid fashion in which I watched the episodes that gave me this opinion, compressing the instances of poor behavior? With the natural breaks between seasons would it have grown less noticeable? 

I don't recall the original series, save a vague recollection of an extraterrestrial circus and the heart-stopping terror it elicited from my prepubescent chest cavity, but I wonder how the companions were handled there. Where they simply there, a product of the story's external requirements that went unremarked upon therein? Did emotions come into it? Or did they just disappear periodically?

I'd think that was the case, as the current writers seem intrigued by the companion device. They visit Sarah-Jane to see how she's doing post-Doctor and there is a tinge of sadness that can be traced back to him.

I really love the show. Last night I watched Season 4 episode Planet of the Ood and it was marvelous. It also had Captain Darling in it, so bonus point there.

But regular references to the companions and their transient place in the Doctor's world continue to irk me.

 

Eat or do not. There is no try.

Blogged from the hip

Love of the Link List

Tsunami Hee Ja recaps a portion of my secret origin, providing a disturbing insight into my developing mind in the process.

My good chum Justin pointed me towards this, which mirrors my own overwrought contemplations on the way in which Guitar Hero and Rock Band are effecting music delivery in this post-digital world.

This little slice of comic book store life had me both laughing, grimacing and realising why today's comic book fan remains somewhat misunderstood. No mean feat.

This article shows that my love of the original controller for the original X-Box, affectionately termed the "X-Box Fat", was apparently misguided. I maintain that it fit my dumpy paws to perfection. And I would have ironically given my right arm for a Nintendo Power Glove as a child.

Leen showed me this. Read it.

This sums up the everything that I'm all about right now. Try not to lose a day to pressing next. 

Oh, and though general perusal of the internet - especially here -  it becomes apparent that women are still marginalised within the comic medium, (I know! who would have thought, huh?) in both their search for empowering female characters and through the treatment they receive as readers. Where all the female superheroes be at?

Destiny is calling

Blogged from the hip

Fuck You Mercury

Not this Mercury, this one rules. Picture from Lomyx

So Mercury is in retrograde.

I'm not normally one for the horoscope thing, but this right here is uncannily on the money.

Apparently, Mercury is appearing to travel backwards through the sky. This is believed to wreck havoc with Virgos [me], Geminis [Leen] and anything to do with communications [my job and all of my hobbies] throughout January.

This explains many things.

I'm struggling to put words together, whether it be for a newspaper, a blog, or even the paltry 140 characters demanded by Twitter.

My laptop exploded the other night and only agreed to reboot after a few days of clumsy point-and-click surgery.

Frankly, I'm all over the map with a head full of fluffy razors, and I blame the movements of the universe.

As Leen said when she posted the news to Facebook, "I'm a Gemini and Stef's a Virgo who works in the media - what the hell is this month gonna do to us?!"

So yeah, if things get a little sporadic around here this month, cut me some slack, or at least make your comment insults sufficiently witty.

Fuck you Mercury.

Hot Facts

Photo by Chubby Bat

Climate change - something I remember hearing about back in primary school - was only recognised by governments when it threatened to have an impact in a financial sense.

Climate change used to be called global warming, but that term went out of fashion when Governments put it on the agenda. Note: "Climate change" does not include the word warming.

Once governments seriously started looking at methods to address global warming, half of everybody got upset because it would cost cash money.

People living on tiny islands that will be the first to go under water, despite their small contribution to the problem, were skewed more towards the positive.

Just as the issue gained momentum the entire world financial system collapsed into recession under the weight of its own ineptitude.

With money tight, 'green policies' were put on the back-burner as everyone tries to ride out the recession.

Anyone suggesting that environmental concerns should still receive attention is branded a loony tune, as there are more important things, such as financial survival, to worry about.

Governments continue to pour billions of dollars into private companies to save everyone from recession. 

The companies, and the public money therein, share the ability to be submerged under a rising sea.

Sadly, policies to prevent that eventuality remain prohibitively expensive.

Forming somewhat random thoughts into coherent paragraphs is the work of a man not experiencing a 40 degree celsius day.

Walk a mile in my shoes...

Before you complain that there was no post today.

Also I need new shoes.

Mo Mo conquers the wilderness one plant at a time

Blogged from the hip

Video Games v Film

I have a new post up over at Geoff Klock's Remarkable blog:

Should video games aspire to be films? Passive vs Active viewing.

Check it out, won't you?

Void

He opened his eyes, and the world appeared as if buried under shattered glass.

He shuddered as his body was slammed by a spasm of pain. He was hit immediately and with equal force by the realisation that he had eaten an entire pizza on his own in roughly seven minutes.

Blinking away tears he resolved to achieve something. Anything.
"I must achieve," he thought to himself, "lest this night be remembered solely as the night I ate an entire pizza and suffered the gastronomic consequences".
"The internet!" He exclaimed, although the sound of it was lost amongst a painful rumble from his abdomen which made him swell with the relief of being alone and unheard.
He had long sought the internet as a destination wherein a mote of achievement could be found. He opened his browser and keyed the address. The keys clacked as he typed his own name.
He took a swig of coffee and immediately regretted it as the viscous liquid joined the hellish maelstrom already occupying his midsection.

A small digital representation of his own face stared out at him from the monitor before him. He pressed a button. He typed his email address. He typed his password. He pressed a button.

Time felt sticky and thick. Enourmous effort seemed a requirement for the completion of even the most basic of tasks.
Finally, he found the screen he needed.


He stared at the large, blank rectangle of space. It was like a sheet hanging to dry on a windless day. It made his eyes droop. Unlike many sheets this one longed to be marked, to be covered in black lines and scratches. Unlike many sheets, he wondered if he could leave his mark upon this one.


It seemed to have limitless depth. Any words would disappear upon its surface, falling forever into an invisible plane of underspace, trailing a thin, gunmetal grey cord of his imagination along behind it, falling farther and farther and drawing the cord thinner and thinner until it snapped, and he would be nothing.


Cut off from his imagination - his thoughts - he would wander the streets as a husk. He would be experimented upon as he emotionlessly spouted listless, factual statements. Robbed of self-deprecation and pop culture references he would be nothing.




He worried deeply about the possibility, and the concern that such a thing had already come to pass, as he could think of nothing to write at all.






Bollocks.

Spaced

In the second season of Spaced, main character Tim is fired from his job as he is unable to contain his rage at how crap The Phantom Menace was. This anger is instinctively understood by the world around him.

So yeah, you should probably watch that.


I've heard a lot about Spaced and how great it is, but It has only recently been released on DVD in my region.
But it was released, and I did watch it, and it was great.

Tim and Daisy are two twentysomething London layabouts. Both adrift, they pretend to be a couple to get a cheap flat.
That's the hook into the story, but it's not the point. The point is in the living of their lives as they veer between touching humanity, wacky adventures, tiny moments and abject absurdity.
The direction of the show is cinematic and fantastic and the whole thing is steeped in pop culture, with more homage and references than can be caught in a single sitting.
there's a lot of geekiness in there, which hooked me in immediately, but I stuck around because the characters are genuinely well-drawn. Spaced has become quite the phenomenon and it's easy to see why, as it appeals deeply to nerds, film geeks and lovers of love.
The show is co-created by Simon Pegg, who went on to have a hand in Shaun of the Dead. It's a good yardstick. If you dug that - and I did - you'll find a similar awesome vibe here.

Grand Audio Experiment

My first foray into the exciting world of audio!

episode 1.mp3

Heroclix: A Review

Having now played a handful of games, I can say that Heroclix is terribly fun.


Heroclix is a collectible miniatures game, wherein you assemble a team of superheroes and/or villains to beat the hell out of your opponent's assembled heroes and/or villains.
You can draw your characters from the DC (Superman, Batman) or Marvel (Spiderman, X-Men) universes. Both use the same system so you can find out if Superman would beat Thor in a fight, but as Marvel zombies, we've largely stuck to those characters.
Each player creates a team of a given point cost, say 200 points. That way a group of ten reasonably powerful creatures can take on two uberbadasses and all have a fighting chance. I have seen this occur and the system is well balanced.

The core mechanic sees each character's statistics printed on its base, and their numbers change each time they take damage. That way, characters grow fatigued as the battle wears on.
As well as the numbers representing combat statistics - attack, defense, speed, etc. - each number is assigned a colour that represents special abilities. It sounds complicated but is easy to figure out. The system is elegant and robust, with a finite number of colours/abilities able to represent almost any super ability, at least in spirit.

More importantly, as a comic book fan, it's awesomely fun.
The designers have managed to create a good comic feel to fights. You can soar through the sky and teleport allies to the front lines. You can punch through walls. You can leap from buildings. The hardest attack blast enemies back from the force.
Familiarity with the characters does provide some benefit, as abilities are mapped well. You know you should avoid fighting Wolverine up close, and that Cyclops can hit you from afar.
It's hard not to get wrapped up in the drama of it all. So far, I have seen Captain America battered into unconsciousness with a refrigerator; Hobgoblin hurled a pumpkin bomb at Maverick, hurling him off the side of a building and into the cross hairs of Crossbones. Green Scar cut down a dozen opponents before finally going down, getting stronger as he took damage.

My only regret regarding my brother's recent visit is that we didn't get to finish the 1000 points a side three player smashfest. A part of my soul will always remain on the steps of the Legion of Superheroes' base, sandwiched between a rampaging Devil Dinosaur and Omega Red.
But with Professor Xavier, the Juggernaut, Giant Man and Taskmaster, I would've taken 'em.

The Ramble on Drugs

How long do you stick with something that isn't working?

The 'War on Drugs', while a nice phrase to throw out at press conferences, seems flawed to the point of uselessness.
Drugs are certainly bad. They destroy brains and bodies and absorb people in their entirety.
The thing is, this zero tolerance approach necessitates excising these people from the society that could help them.
If you decide that drugs are bad, anyone who takes them is bad, and all their mothers are bad, then the most victimised continue to sink.
Now granted, I'm deeply nestled into middle class suburbia, but in my experience, there is a large group of people that take drugs primarily for the purpose of having fun - a group that is rarely represented in the wartime propaganda.
Much like communism and outlawing alcohol, the war is doomed to failure, as it fails to account for human behaviour. People want stuff, they like a tipple and some of them like drugs.
And after years of warfare, there's still drugs all over the place. The zero tolerance thing is not working.
Is it not better to give a small amount of ground? To admit that drugs are out there and try to help people from being destroyed? To save those who have been?
Pill testing could prevent people taking bad drugs. Shooting galleries could get people help if things go wrong. Counselling may help them overcome their crutches.
But none of these things are possible if we just fine them and throw them back away.
I ... have no point of note, just musings about something that seems a bit off.

Parking FAIL

Blogged from the hip

"Get out of my video game club"

Photo by Earl - What I Saw 2.0

So far the Nintendo Wii has made a profit of, and I'm estimating here, eleventy billion dollars.
If you followed the industry through gaming press and websites though, you'd think it was the biggest failure since George Clooney flashed his Bat Credit Card.
Video game geeks, like their counterparts across popular culture, often develop ownership of their particular obsession.
While I have the ability to rattle off everything that Wolverine has ever accomplished, it rarely comes up at a dinner party. When the need arises though, I'll rapturously discuss the effect a sudden loss of adamantium can have on a mutant healing factor over a three, six and twelve month timeline.

And when comic book movies go widespread, it's hard not to feel like something special has been taken away.
It's hard not to feel like you're in some kind of exclusive club that others do not understand.
Video games are the same, "hardcore gamers", who are basically the biggest game geeks of all, discuss arcane issues online that the casual gamer would never consider.
In opening up gaming to the masses with the Wii, Nintendo seems to have sparked the ire of the hardcore crowd.
The strategy of the Wii was pretty simple: Make a console that appeals to people who have never gamed. Make it cheap. Focus on accessibility rather than technological dominance.
It worked. People are buying the thing faster than they can be produced.
It's in contrast to the XBox 360 and Playstation 3, which continue the throughline of increased technological grunt to appeal to the existing audience.
Hardcore gamers, and the gaming press that services them, don't seem to like the Wii. They find it ugly and shallow, with few intense games and last-year's tech.
They're all fair statements, but they do miss the point. The system is not built for them. The Wii is for everybody else.
Even the fact that most Wii owners buy very few games - maybe Wii Fit and that's it - isn't a big problem for Nintendo, as they're the only producer that makes a profit off the console itself. The others continue a model of losing money on hardware and making their profit in games.
I was a hardcore gamer as a kid, but I'm not any more. It really comes down to time - I don't have enough of it to play. I love video games, and ponder them relentlessly, but the bite-sized Wii goodness serves me well.
So I like the Wii. I like the others too. But the people who discuss these things online trend towards hardcoriness, whereas the casual masses who drive the Wii's success are content to play.
But while the Wii is something new, its being tested against existing benchmarks which aren't appropriate. The casual audience is not catered for and its a shame that's missing from the visible picture.
This leads to a skewed perception online. But across the land, people are quietly swinging their wiimotes, oblivious to the storm.

Happy New Year

DSCF2691.jpg, originally uploaded by obscene_pickle.

Greetings all, and welcome to the laser-like intensity of excitement that is 2009.

So far the year has been a blast. As it began I was at a great party hanging out with good friends and, notably, my brother Nick and his friend Ben. It has been a long time since Nick and I had a chance to hang out without a family event as the instigating force, and entertaining chillaxation ensued. Ben turned out to be awesome as well, which was awesome, creating an 'awesome squared' situation.

The party was in full, fruit punch-infused swing as the clock chimed 09. Within three hours we had moved under a giant bed and things took a turn for the mellow. I generally find NYE to be a bit of a grind but a tight guest list and Leen and Georgia's onslaught of tune brilliance made this one the best I can recall.

We had strolled home by 5am and, after half a round of bleary Heroclix, took our leave of the conscious world.
Midday saw buckwheat pancakes and our guests hitting the road.
We were sad to see them go, but soothed the pain by reclining on the couch and watching eight episodes of The Wire's season 4 in a row.

Now, 24 hours into a new year's resolution to 'continue demonstrated awesomeness', I wish you all well.