Acierocolotl: Fair and Balanced

Champions?

Thu, 03 Sep 2009 13:54:38 GMT

Okay, lissen, two things: I'm still alive, still kicking and all that, just hadn't been up to writing which maybe I'll change and maybe I won't; there's some random nonsense I could write about if I felt so-inclined.

And in the spirit of olden posts, here are some pics of some Champions Online. They're big ass, and I'm not cutting them down. But I'll make a cut, just for you, because you are my friend.

I'd made a coupla characters, but I don't have a good shot of my first one. It was sort of amusing, playing a "normal" guy in a world of capes and all that, but he was also kinda fragile and no amount of running around like an acid-cracked lunatic with a shotgun could quite make up for it. So recognizing his frailty, he hired on a bunch of other capes to soak up the bullets and such otherwise aimed for him.

Cerise here, she is nice and cute. Really! As his partner in crime, she was notorious for stealing arms and gear from supervillains and putting it to her own personal use. She laughed a lot and enjoyed the frays, if only because it was more opportunity for theft.

This is what I'm talking about! Girl stole hover disks, gave one to my guy. All hovering around, it wasn't exactly stealthy but in the absence of proper motor vehicles, one persevered... and hovered.

Lars (the guy) was certainly amusing, but there were certain shortcomings to be addressed to make the superheroing experience much more enjoyable, or at least staring less frequently at the "You have been defeated!" dialogue. So that gave rise to Cihuapilli, Hell's Princess:

She's in a perpetually bad mood. It's just the way she is. Saves the world from planet-crusing insectoid menace and being lauded, and she's still glowering the whole while.

I saw quite a lot of "My mans is a mercenary and/or soldier from the dark past with a real dark past, also stubbles, and he's got a shit tonne of guns and a dark past and he shoots people and/or does dark military dark shit!" (and a helluva lotta wolf-type anthropomorphs, all wolf-smiling, which is super-creepy) but not a single person did anything *interesting* with guns at all. But it's possible to get really John Wu (or Woo? WOO!) with the damn things! But first, a very brief training montage. Those crash-test dummies are about to have a high-speed collision with some lead!

The girrul's character is a demoness, straight up. Leathery skin, horns, batty wings, flies around and does death! on stuff. You'll see her soon enough. Cihuapilli will sometimes prank that demoness or at least annoy her grievously. But when few people are looking, Cihuapilli likes to prank. Say, in this case, by bathing in a mystic cauldron; and even then she still glowers, because she's that irrationally angry. This cauldron-bath gave the Princess a real bad case of the glowies, though.

Other Bay Street Harvesters (Lars' little group of people destined to take bullets meant for him) inclues the Red Monk, who had a brief association with Cihuapilli. She beats people about the head and shoulders with those chains. It looks quite painful. She runs fast, she kills fast, she "arrests" people with the benefit of a pair of mattocks. It's chilling. And yet, Cihuapilli still glowers.

New costume availability means so much time spent fussing with clothing options, and then tuning the aura colours so they match, and making sure the guns even match. Good lord, it's almost daunting. I must have taken fifty screenshots but couldn't ever get one where the girl there is in full gun-fu, mostly because they'd get killed off too fast by a certain demoness up there (cough cough). Oh yeah, and those were demonhounds. They turned out to have terrible lead allergies. You can almost see Cihuapilli smiling there. Don't tell anybody.

Movement around the world is pretty rapid, most folk can fly. My character's got rocket boots, so she sorta flies for a very little while, and then submits to gravity's embrace with the subtlety of a swan... tied to a dozen lead ingots. It's quite dramatic and hilariously entertaining, as she can clear a ten-storey building in only one or two bounds, and then come right back down just as rapidly. Superman she ain't, that's for sure, them landings is a bit rough. I bet they've got all manner of rough landing insurance. (And finally, a decent view of That Demoness! She laughs now but only because there's no AA missiles giving chase.)

Cihuapilli: Hey guy, who turned out the lights?
Lilith: GAZE UPON ME.
Man: Shooting me ain't gonna bring back the lights.
Lilith: IT WAS TOTALLY HIM MAKING IT DARK.
Man: Uhh, miss, there's a demoness behind you sucking in all the light.
Cihuapilli: Yeah. You expect me to believe that.
Lilith: BEHOLD MY MIGHT.
Man: I'm not kidding!
Cihuapilli: Yeah guy, she was screamin' earlier and I wouldn't look then, what makes you think I'll look now?
Man: You mind just shooting me then?
Cihuapilli: Yeah, no problem.
Lilith: EVIL!

The game's got all manner of integrated blathering that lets you update blagues and such as you play, and I'm not too ashamed to admit I've been doing just that. So for your amusement, Cihuapilli's little journal.

Real Deal or Big Deal? You tell me.

Thu, 16 Apr 2009 22:37:51 GMT

The title gives me the hives. I made it through about a page and a half before it put it down and stopped reading it, primarily because it would have been impolite to read, but secondarily because this stuff is out of my ken.

I mean, I don't know if it's bullshit or if it's real. My entire academic career has been focussed, with laser-like intensity, on the hard sciences (and supporting scholastics). I do not know this stuff. I want to call it bullshit, but I don't know.

So I turn to you. You are each easily smarter than I. Here, then, is the exerpt.

The new dynamics of strategy: Sense-making in a complex and complicated world, by C.F. Kurtz and D.J. Snowden.

In this paper, we challenge the universality of three basic assumptions prevalent in organizational decision support and strategy: assumptions of order, of rational choice, and of intent. We describe the Cynefin framework, a sense-making device we have developed to help people make sense of the complexities made visible by the relaxation of these assumptions. The Cynefin framework is derived from several years of action research into the use of narrative and complexity theory in organizational knowledge exchange, decision-making, strategy, and policy-making. The framework is explained, its conceptual underpinnings are outlined, and its use in group sense-making and discourse is described. Finally, the consequences of relaxing the three basic assumptions, using the Cynefin framework as a mechanism, are considered.

BLOODYMARE: REQUIEM: BLOODYMARE (or the return of an AO classic-style post)

Sun, 12 Apr 2009 19:10:42 GMT

Acierocolotl: Bweeeheehee. Xfire has been shoving this "bloodiest mmo" ad at me for awhile. So independantly of xfire, I went to take a look. I am laughing uncharitably.
PurpleXVI: THE BLOODIEST?
Acierocolotl: Yes. It is called BLOODYMARE: REQUIEM, and the pictures are all strewn with red, like a kid cut loose with a red sugar squirter at a cake factory.
PurpleXVI: Hahahah. That's AWESOME.
Acierocolotl: It is a game! With blood! Also it is in open beta at the moment. I'm half of a mind to suggest we beta this thing together.
PurpleXVI: ...Wait, is it seriously called BLOODYMARE?
Acierocolotl: Yes. Just go past the age check, check out the screenies.
PurpleXVI: ...Is that honestly an in-lined video where the preview picture is red blood cels? ...And wow, I swear that the picture at the top loaded WITHOUT blood at first.
Acierocolotl: Who can tell. I can not. But I know, oh my stars and garters, that there's an open beta for it. I've no especial need to go in on my own, the thing looks laughable.
PurpleXVI: Oh God, that lower right screenshot.
Acierocolotl: Oh yes. This thing has the hallmarks of being a classic.
PurpleXVI: Whenever anyone tells me they're playing an MMO, I'm going to harangue them for not playing THE BLOODIEST MMO.
Acierocolotl: Hah! I can't help but grin. This shit is hilarious.
PurpleXVI: Man, thanks for pointing this out, I thought it'd honestly just be red-coloured dullness, but godduh, there are laughs here.
Acierocolotl: So you wanna check it out for real live screenshot action?
PurpleXVI: Oh God, man, I'm really not sure I could survive that. Though, y'know... What if it's actually GOOD? What if it's not shit?
Acierocolotl: Then the joke's on us. But come on. What are the odds of it being good.

And thus did our heroes struggle, in vain, to get signed up for the beta. Apparently, the makers of REQUIEM: BLOODYMARE: REQUIEM did not like secure browsers.

Acierocolotl: I'm'a just delete this torrent. This is too much work for too little reward. I wonder if they're gonna sit there and think to themselves, "Damn, why come nobody signed up? Don't they like BLOOD?!"
PurpleXVI: Maybe for their next one they'll try BONES. Or BRAINS. Or GUTS. Or SKIN.
Acierocolotl: BONEMARE: THE COLONING It has to have a goddamn colon in the title. It must.
PurpleXVI: SKULLMARE: THE SPLEENING

MANswers?

Thu, 09 Apr 2009 00:40:03 GMT

Here's a brief thing, then:

When ensconsed in a hotel room and watching the telly for the first time in, shit, a very long time, we fetched up on Spike TV's "MANswers" show, which purports to have answers of great interest and importance to men, such as how one could most safely (from prosecution) seek out prostitutes, how to get inebriated as quickly as possible, or the size of breast required to crush a beer can.

It was of considerable interest and consternation that the girrul there was more intruiged by these answers than I.

(PS: The most efficient, gearless inebriation can be had by had by enema. Which I already knew anyway.)

Amateur Accountants

Thu, 12 Mar 2009 23:39:38 GMT

So I know that the whole point of this LJ exercise is to not ever write anything of any clear value, ever. For me, I mean. You gotta write about what you gotta write about, and far be it from me to judge (though I reserve the right to chide or mock at any time).

Here I will share some of this "reality" business with what's been going down over in AO-land, strictly because it's so patently absurd that no comedian could outstrip it.

You probably have not noticed my absence, for I am quiet and discrete like that. The absence has been real, however, and forced upon me over the last few weeks. We'll call this "ISP Shenanigans."

For the last few years, I have made use of a certain, small ISP in this city, which promissed a superior service. It being a small company, it appeals to my fierce independant bullshit personality.

Over the last few years, they'd often not bill me. Surprisingly, this wasn't because they valued me so much, but simply because they forgot. Rather than admit they'd forgotten, they'd come up with some sort of lame, "Oh, we tried to call you and see what was going on," or, "Your bank wasn't working," excuse, but only after they'd terminate my service and I had to call in to see what the hell was going on.

Still, you know, they were giving me free service, even if it wasn't the most reliable, went down at random intervals and then would get arbitrarily cut because they'd forgotten to bill me. I was okay with that. The last disconnect, however, was from them stating I hadn't paid them (no surprise) but they had, in fact, remembered to bill me; I was looking at my electronic bank statement while talking to them. Accounting errors are only to be tolerated if they benefit me!

And, really, an ISP with randomly disconnecting service and accounting errors really doesn't need my support; my name should only be attached to the cool and competent, that sort of thing.

Now, back to the irregularily-scheduled wacky hijinks.

Merry Shmas, folx.

Thu, 25 Dec 2008 19:17:44 GMT

"Shmas," that's what I've been calling it--pronouncing the "x" in "xmas" the way the Aztecs might, because what the hell, "Shmas," sounds just absurd enough to catch and it caught.

Wishing me a merry shmas, She (the girrul, of course) informed me that the Santa Claus Performance Review Board (SCPRB) did deem my performance throughout 2008 to be sufficient to merit a bottle of Oban 14yr as a reward (which is damn tasty), and the silliest of toques--in the form of a fish, whose fangly maw is chewing upon my head. When it wore it, she couldn't stop laughing. Pictures will follow once I look a little less dishevelled, of course.

Now, the chief reason for this little writing isn't really to vaunt my superior performance in the eyes of the SCPRB, but it is to share a small, tiny, and (in the context of this here journal) briefly serious post.

My friends (and those other weiners who might read this), I confess to you a brief fear: that my job and other things has encouraged me to become more than a little dull. It is a deathly fear, one that, inspired by a couple mind-numbing years of large-dollar report writing, have sort of quashed any desire to do anything outside of going home and shutting down. I need only see how this journal has languished to better appreciate these worries. Getting that problem licked would be the best Shmas present of all time.

Time for the once-in-a-timeperiod update (Fallout 3 flavour)

Sat, 01 Nov 2008 07:32:13 GMT

This is my d00d. D00d here was an attempt to make a specific d00d I had in my mind, except it's hard to get a slightly grizzled 30-odd year old when characters here are 19. Whaddayagonnado? Change the name, carry on anyway.

A sweater vest, nice pleated slacks, and a sniper rifle trained on your skull while you're prone? So wholesome! All Eirik needs is a reclining chair and a doting wife to bring him the newspaper whilst he threatens your butt (and the various parts attached to that butt).

Eirik's day job is a butcher. A butcher in the post apocalyptic world, of course, which means fusion-powered one-handed chainknives and such. Don't fret about the stains, Stain-B-Gon will clear that up in no time! It's the modern housewife's friend!

This is Maria. Maria is a dainty slip of a lass. She struggles under the weight of the various, enormous arms she will eventually bear, primarily a chaingun. In the interim, this enormous flamethrower is great for working out her upper body and incinerating various scoundrels, bugs, rats, and scoundrel bug-rats.

With a little money, Maria was able to get an even heavier weapon, the "Rock-it Launcher". It's a charming weapon; it will accept damn near anything and fire it back out. She had an enormous stack of teddy bears and used them to smash the heads off foes. Empty bottles of scotch also worked well. The fedora, you must understand, is simply to get more suitably in character while guzzling down enormous bottles of hightest hooch. She is a gumshoe--though in this context, it means rendering heads down to gummy residue which then gets on her shoes. (You think that was belaboured? Son, you ain't seen nothin'.)

Maria means business. She's got empty cans and baseballs in there. She will fuck your shit. I mean figuratively. She won't actually fuck your shit literally, that's just gross. Get away from me.

She probably thinks I forgot about Ell.

Mon, 22 Sep 2008 22:26:53 GMT

Oh, the joys of bad voice acting!

It turns out that, completely unintentionally, I can do a spot-on impersonation of that really terrible voice actor who voices the bear-druid-thingie that gets killed off in a bit of nerdish culture. By bending tropes just a little, I reduced her to the Aching Ribs of Unstoppable Laughter.

"ELLANEE. I NEED... I NEED TO DO SOME CALCULUS ELLANEE. YOU GOT TO HELP ME, YOU GOT TO GET ME SOME PAPER ELLANEE. I CAN'T WRITE THE DY/DX ELLANEE HELP WHAT DO I DO CAN YOU HOLD THE PEN FOR ME? MY BEAR PAWS CAN NOT HOLD THE PEN, ELLANEE."

You don't have to be there. I make no excuses for my humour.

A letter to the Ten Ton Hammer fora:

Tue, 19 Aug 2008 21:38:32 GMT

Your "please come back to the forum!" e-mail reminder was written by a lonely bearded man who has never touched the skin of a woman.

I have never participated in your fora before this message, I have no interest in your fora, and I find the e-mails desperately clingy. Please leave me be.

I'd prefer not to spamblock, and would have preferred just to unsubscribe, but I don't see that option readily apparent and am disinclined to seriously commit to a hunt for it, so that leaves me here.

This is my not-precisely-polite (note the sarcasm please) attempt to have my account deleted and the e-mails cease. I trust you'd permit people to delete their accounts more readily, or for heavens sake, QUIT IT with the whining e-mails.

Really. It's grossly unprofessional (as is this message).

You're cordially invited to flame this message all you like; I have no intention of logging back in to reading replies, and would be seriously pleased if my account were deleted in its stead. If not, I suppose I'd be forced to write another of these posts. (I don't mind, it's kind of cathartic and juvenile.)

Yrs,
Acierocolotl

Flat Out: Ultimate Carnage

Fri, 01 Aug 2008 00:22:27 GMT

So, uhh, yeah, it's out for the PC now. It's Flat Out 2.5; you know exactly what you're getting if you get this. It's just even shinier.

I'll seeya in a few weeks or some shit.

Here's one to lighten the AO drought.

Wed, 30 Jul 2008 23:18:00 GMT

Not just anything will do after all this time not writing, so here's something of a bit of a classic in terms of feel.

In walking to a Very Important Place, the girrul and I were about to pass abreast of some woman walking towards us. Well, the sidewalks were a bit narrow, so somebody would have to yield. It wasn't about to be us, as we are Very Important.

Clearly she was Very Important as well, for this woman this woman simply lifted an outdoor sign that was in her way and put it aside without breaking her stride. Nobody yielded! Hoorah.

Man, I got nothin', I'm sorry.

Eight (8) (huite) signs your partner is addicted to porn.

Tue, 10 Jun 2008 23:53:29 GMT

The girrul sent me some Foxnews link about the BMW prototype model that's got fabric fenders and such. Well, that was neat, but what really caught my eye was the article with the eight signs that my partner was addicted to porn. It was too good to pass up.

You can't quite put your finger on it, but your relationship feels troubled. In fact, things have become increasingly stressful and you’re constantly fielding unresolved relationship problems... but you don’t know why.

You are starting to feel confused and distressed.

Could it be that your partner has a pornography problem?

What constitutes a porn addiction or compulsion is a hotly contested issue, which is why its symptoms are rarely discussed.

This lack of discourse has come at a hefty price. Many people who have been victimized by their partner’s porn problem wish that they had “seen the signs.” They wish they had known what indicates an active habit and an actual problem. They wish they had been able to solve the puzzle before their lives fell apart. And they probably could have. So now we are going to discuss the warning signs.

Many people are completely in the dark that their partner likes porn, much less has a serious relationship with it. Ignorant as to any issue, they trust their lover unconditionally. They assume their partner understands that using porn, at least beyond a magazine like Playboy, is the equivalent of having an actual affair. This ignorance, combined with the great lengths to which a porn enthusiast will go to hide erotica, can leave a partner in the dark for months or even years.

On the flip side, some couples use, or have used, various forms of erotica to help spice up their sex life. After all, porn is often recommended as one way lovers can be more intimate with each other. But instead of peaking pleasure, porn has become far more than titillation: It’s taking over one’s life. Instead of enhancing sex, the porn itself has become the object of desire. Now, one partner may find themselves competing with porn for his or her partner’s attention.

In either scenario, what signs should tip you off that your partner might have a serious problem with pornography?

Note: While some men and women may enjoy porn, and both can develop a problem with it, I’m going to use the pronoun “he” from here on out. I’m not being sexist; I am acknowledging the fact that about 75 to 85 percent of porn Web browsers are males (although the percentage of females is growing).

1. Your partner is not as social as he used to be.

He is excusing himself from activities, has unexplained absences, and is not able to account for his time. He has little interest in socializing with you or making time for others, including his family.

2. Your partner lacks interest in sex or is sexually unresponsive.

You’re noticing a decrease in physical affection and non-sexual touch. If you have sex, it’s because you are the one initiating it. Your partner is having trouble becoming sexually aroused (for example, achieving erection or having an orgasm).

Furthermore, your partner needs more and more stimulation to get turned on and release. He has developed a strong interest in sexual practices that seem a little out of left field. No matter what, both of you are feeling largely dissatisfied post-sex.

3. Your partner is being uncharacteristically demanding or rough during sex.

You’re feeling pressured to engage in sexual activities that are either physically or emotionally uncomfortable to you. Your partner is using atypical sexual language. He seems to be objectifying you and he has no qualms about it.

4. Your partner does not seem “present.”

Your lover has become emotionally distant during sex. You’re starting to feel sexually rejected or neglected. In or out of the bedroom, you and your partner can no longer describe yourselves as emotionally intimate.

5. Your partner has started to nit-pick your appearance.

Your partner seems more and more concerned about what you look like, and if you’re sexually attractive “enough.” He might make cutting remarks about your weight or shape. He’s also making insensitive sexual comments, which make you feel like a sex object.

6. You feel like you’re no longer getting straight answers from your lover.

You suspect that much of what is being said these days are white lies. Answers to your questions seem vague and nonsensical. He’s defensive when asked about porn use.

Yet you are finding evidence of hiding, lying, and secretive behavior, including porn materials you didn’t know about. Maybe your partner maintains a private e-mail address, has his own credit card, and/or has an unknown cell phone account.

7. Your partner is practically wed to the Internet.

He spends an excessive amount of time on the computer, often demanding privacy and/or changing his bedtime ritual. As a result, he has eye problems from spending long hours on the computer. He may also complain of back, wrist, neck or shoulder pain.

8. You’ve noticed a change in your partner’s demeanor.

Your partner just doesn’t seem like himself. He has trouble calming down and sleeping. His moods and interests are different. It may even be to the point you’re wondering if his mental health is okay. Feeling like a “sex pervert” can lead him to negative emotional outbursts such as picking fights and holding grudges in order to justify his secret porn use.

Now it’s important to not put too much weight on any one of these standing alone. There are many people who have trouble getting aroused and it has nothing to do with explicit materials. But if you’re noticing patterns or a collection of the aforementioned, your partner likely has some major explaining to do.

If there is a problem, it will surface sooner or later. Whether a partner finds actual evidence, the user confesses, or somebody else – unintentionally or not – spills the beans, the one who has been wronged finally realizes what she’s dealing with. It is a horrible, powerful experience that rocks one to the core. Stunned, overwhelmed and confused, many do not know what to do. The longer and more intimate the relationship, the harder it is to process this news.

When dealing with emotional wounds, and trying to save the relationship, a couple should consider seeking outside help first – despite any embarrassment. With additional support, couples need to talk about their problems and how porn has affected the relationship with a non-judgmental third party.

A number of sex therapists from the American Association of Sex Educators, Counselors and Therapists are capable of handling such situations. Porn problems have become quite common, and no one should go through recovery alone.

Wii.

Thu, 22 May 2008 22:00:33 GMT

I got one of them newfangled wii-thingies the other day, and having an oldschool wire-style network, I couldn't hook it up to the Intertubes because that there wii-thingum came only with wireless.

Just on a lark, though, I checked for wireless connections. Several popped up! Most were unlocked. Which one did I take? The one marked "private", of course! If you're going to have a private network, try closing it off, I sez.

In other news, I'd like to reccommend Dark Wind to all y'all, if you were the sort to want to play Car Wars without a goddamn degree in accounting. Car Wars, but fun! The girrul even likes it, and you know how much she hates things.

So it's May I guess.

Mon, 05 May 2008 03:36:07 GMT

"Looks like her nuts have finally dropped."

"What? That sounds like a good secondary title."
"Fine. What's a good primary title?"
"Blllaaaaawn."
"What?"
"I was yawning."
"Fine. Fine then. So what's a good primary title?"
"I donno. But it sounded like a good secondary to me."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"Yeah, well, your MOM doesn't make any sense but I don't rub that in your face."
"... I haven't got anything. Except, uhh... umm, nevermind, I'm going to go cry now."

Context-free livejournal

Sat, 05 Apr 2008 05:59:43 GMT

"Before you stands a quadrepedal spider-like thing. Well, except that it has a monkey-like head! (which is ridged). It clearly hasn't been eating well because it looks quite skeletal! Oh my! It has big, huge flat black eyes, all the better to see you in the dungeon. It has a big, trunk-like nose. It smell likes sweat! Ew! It has human-like arms, except they're irregular; it probably favours the left arm. It's clawed, so I can't imagine it was using those arms for *that*. This spider is scaled like a lizard, except the scales are orangey. Except that it also has a mane. Maybe it's lion-like? And its back limbs, they are like unto a stork! So there's no goddamn wonder why this thing was starving! Oh yeah, there's some kinda rubbery goat taily thingie, but seriously, are you taking this thing seriously? I call it STORKEPHANT. BEWAAAARE!"

Yes.

Screwin' around with video.

Tue, 25 Mar 2008 06:36:59 GMT

It's a bit of a convoluted process, and I'm making headway. My goal is to be able to render any arbitrary bit of video footage into sort of a cel-shaded effect. Automated cel-shading, if you will. It's my foray into CGI effects.

In the interim, as preliminary experiments, I have a clip of a car made as an oil painting and as a coloured pencil sketch. It was all for insight on the process. Said clips are uploaded to Youtube for the sake of convenience and lower bandwidth, though it does take away some of the magic.

My Youtube account.

Protest. Icons.

Fri, 21 Mar 2008 07:52:15 GMT

My chief reason for this post is to participate in this supposed "LJ walkout"--as a scab. A picket-line-breaker.

Whichever side of the "strike lines" (believe me, I just chortled typing that) you're on, the issue remains a microtempest in a thimble. It's interesting strictly because it's so tiny and ineffectual.

(And I wouldn't have even been aware of it had it not been for some weird-ass fifty-year-old writing to my girlfriend and posting up little "protest icons". He didn't even have the decency of a hey-hey-ho-ho chant, fercrissake.)

Wintry Storm '08 pics

Fri, 14 Mar 2008 00:12:27 GMT

Early this week, this entire region was buried under a half-meter of snow, adding to the profuse abundance we already had.

Ever get lost in the "romance" of winter? I can see where you're coming from sometimes; some of this is really pretty. Seriously, check this out, these are all from my walk to and from work that day.

This is the Ottawa River, and you can kind of vaguely see Parliament over there. The river itself never really freezes because it's so turbulent; somewhat behind the camera lies a hydro dam. On the right side of the picture is Victoria Island. To the bottom leftish, you might get a faint idea how much snow there really is.

On the other side of Victoria Island, you can see things better. It's a little valley down there, sheltered by the island to one side and hillocks to the other, and some intrepid soul decided to go snowshoeing. It would have been nigh-impossible to walk down there without the snowshoes, not without a spot of tunnelling.

This might give you a better perspective on the snow. The canyons are taller than that car in most places. The sidewalk snowploughs just sort of cut a chasm through the stuff. There's a drawback to all of this, of course:

The drawback? That's this. Can you imagine having to shovel this stuff out? It wasn't the lightest of snows by any means. Not the worst, not that heavy, sodden stuff which sticks to everything like celestial peanutbutter, but not that far off either. Geezers die of heart attacks moving that stuff around.

There's some kind of advantages--of a sort--mind you. I call it "snow geology". When the ploughs cut through, you can see the individual layers. "As we can see here, the 10 o'clock layer featured heavy traffic..."

Traffic. That, more than anything else--yes, even more than the miserable, fucking cold--takes the romance out of winter. Cars are filthy things, and you can really appreciate just how filthy they are by how pristine white stuff can get turned into brown, sodden spray which gets shot everywhere.

This is a very mild amount of slushy contamination. Fiercer slushes have been known to dissolve metal and leather, and are a convenient way to dispose of bodies. This slush was relatively benign and I was not afraid to pose with my foot nearby. Is my shoe not sexy? It is okay to lust after me for my shoe. I understand.

Not everything gets ploughed, mind you! This can result in wacky mini-mountain climbing adventures just to cross streets. You might think you see a cyclist in this photograph, but you would be mislead. That's a convict. We don't need capital punishment; we make them ride bikes in the winter and the survivors are very duly chastised.

Such fun and merriment traffic brings! A liberal spray of slush can turn a pristine, solid path (as seen near the top of the photo) into a sodden, disgusting toxic waste pit fit only as watering holes for hated dogs. Think of how great it is: You can get soakers, and then freeze them up on the snow!

I hope this gives you a little perspective on winter.

Apple Turf Wars

Tue, 11 Mar 2008 12:09:25 GMT

An apple crisp was made. As it was cute, apparently, to mangle words (lord knows we never do anything cute around here), the girrul elected to call it an "apple crips".

An apple crips? I free-associate the way some people breathe. In my fridge was also "apple butter". This is made by basically reducing slightly sour apples to a fine pulp, adding a bit of apple juice to smooth it out, and then as much cinammon as you like for flavour and colour. This was no longer "apple butter", it was "apple blood".

And so the apple bloods and the apple crips had a gang war on our plates. It looked like the apple bloods were getting on top, but in the end, the only winner of that turf war was us. Yum.

The Exciting PONYSTARS conclusion

Sun, 09 Mar 2008 09:10:47 GMT

This is a bit longer. It is likely to cause you pain. Generous and thoughtful that I am, I shield you with this cut.

Early on, for reasons which defy me, the dingdang ole faeries decided to give me another pony, so I have a stable of two now. Behold the glorious stable:

Escherichia Coli is the offspring from those puke-a-riffic things made earlier. Bacillis Subtilis was the one they gave me, and oh-so-very special with the goddamn unicorn horn and zebra stripes and such. Boooo. But it is also old enough to breed, and it's possible to whore out your stallions for profit. (I checked, nobody's done it yet.)

Anyway, a good portion of the game is daily upkeep, as detailed below:

This entails clicking on the three links (feeding, brushing, hoof-cleaning) and ensuring that there's enough stock of same. It's quite exciting, boy howdy. Training has the potential to hurt a pony, as does insufficient feed or care, though the things can never die. Results of your feeding, etc., get relayed in that little box. We're really at door game levels of technology, as you can see.

The other central part of the game is this Grasslands Adventure dealie. Check it out!

As I hadn't assigned a pony yet, no moves are showing. You normally get only three moves a day, so it takes a couple days to move across the pitch. Here's after a few moves later:

In short, I've hit every major thing in that area during my short stint at beta, and I can't do anything with any of them. My pony is insufficiently leet to interact with the little pony quests (by the way, I'm the white square on that map, those other little ponies are just quest givers). Also, note that the map doesn't scroll or do anything awesome, there's no animation of any sort either. That's it.

Frustrated at your lack of moves? That's okay! Check out the marketplace:

You can buy moves! 100 moves for a mere ten dollars! What a steal! (As opposed to the three daily?) And apart from basic food and care, everything else in the game costs real money. What sorts of things? Here's a sample:

Little dainty hearts for the hooves, lazor-shades, stripeties, you name it. Little graphic gewgaws to make your ponies all the more pretty. Hoo.

That's much of the game there. There are a few small things with investing in farmlands to grow foodcrops for your beasts on the cheap instead of buying the feed straight up, and so forth, but there's relatively little else you haven't seen. Truly you should be feeling blown away by the technical intricacies of this game. If not that, then the various, splendid bugs; bugs I'd be reporting if they told me how or where.

I hope your experience was almost as trippy as mine.

PONYSTARS UPDATE, WHEE!

Wed, 05 Mar 2008 09:22:52 GMT

Insomnia is my friend. Work's been just busy enough I haven't had enough time to really give this the attention it deserves; there will be more content updates as it comes available. However, for the sake of your personal sanitation, all text lies behind a cut as this stuff is so saccharine, it will (re)infect your eyes.

Here is a caveat: All images included in this post are not editted, touched up, or anything. They were screenshots taken straight from the browser, dumped into mspaint and saved in JPEG format. I have, in all cases, left the scrollbars and other such sundry in.

Browser, you say? This is a doorgame, perversely enough. A good number of my readership is sufficiently nerdcore to recall what a doorgame is. An explanation of doorgames may follow if there's a need for it, for you younguns out there.

So anyway, here's the background image, also the splash screen, which sets the tone of the entire experience.

Yes, that's a lot of pink. EVERYTHING is pink in here. This is not a game for you if you love giant robots. This is not a game for you if you enjoy racing cars, even pink ones. This is a game for only the MOST masculine of souls out there, ones so robust that no amount of pink can slow them down. Yes, my readers, I am that man.

Creating an account was easy enough, because I'd already been registered with Acclaim for a previous "beta" of theirs, a game so dismal and slender it was barely above doorgame level to begin with, a game with play so simplistic that almost anything on my old Colour Computer 2, a machine with 64 kilobytes of RAM (and stock with 16!) had better games on the average.

With that out of the way, I was exhorted to define the "parents" of my very first pony! Bang! I was daunted by all the choices placed before me:

Yes, that would be the four elements (earth/fire/water/air), as well as love and feline ponies. Fire ponies, you'll be thrilled to know, eat coal. Feline ponies eat milk, which grows from milk trees, and love ponies? CHOCOLATE. But I get ahead of myself.

First, the final parents!

"Make the most naueatingly pink thing you can!" were instructions from Purple, which were easy enough. Behold, the proud feline stallion from the brightest minds of Denmark! These people don't need nukes, that's for sure. And the girrul? "Make something inappropriate!" So a love pony, with a flaming red mane, baleful red eyes, and a coat as black as midnight.

And here was my very first bug, as the colours that would show up on the pony often had little bearing on the colours I actually picked, which inspired a lot of frustration. When I want red, I want RED, not blue, green, or purple! Which is why Girrulpony actually has orange-ish eyes, because that's the closest to actual red I could get without the game weirdin' out.

Next update: Their offspring, Escherichia Coli, and the Grasslands Adventures!

One for the March.

Sat, 01 Mar 2008 22:42:15 GMT

So in the spirit of older entries:

Me: Hey! Check this out! I've just been accepted for the PonyStars beta!
Her: The what?
Me: PONYSTARS!! The game for people who love ponies!
Her: Uhh, is there something you need to be telling me?
Me: Yes. I LOVE PONIEEEEEES!!

I was shrieking like a schoolgirl. PONIES!

Heresy of the basest sort.

Thu, 17 Jan 2008 06:11:56 GMT

I have earned a new respect for superspeedway racing.

The short version of this post is that when exposed to super-grognard-levels of superspeedway racing (which includes a good drafting model), playing strictly against other humans, well, I can't describe the situation any better than 300 km/hr politics. It was humbling; I am a poor 300 km/hr politician... so far.

(I would then race most of these suckerfools on a highly convoluted, muddy rally course with a grossly underpowered, shiny nauseatingly pink car and hand them their butts on a ~~silver~~ pink platter.)

This is Project Torque, by the way. It's very shiny. (The above was shot at minimum settings and has convinced me to upgrade the computer sooner rather than later.)

Tue, 15 Jan 2008 00:58:48 GMT

In the spirit of the Flipside of yore, back in the giddy days of Ottawa Fidonet, I present "babby".

(Looping flash, has sounds, can not be appreciated without those sounds so wait 'til you're home from work if you must, then thank me.)

An Experiment

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 23:02:38 GMT

A number of folk I work with have made statements along the lines of them thinking global warming is a myth. Their memories fade very fast at sweltering summer days, and the smug lines come out during any slightly-colder-than-normal day. (Let's also skip the fact that it's properly "climate change", as it would get in the way of excessive smugness.)

Today, in this so-wintry town, it peaked at 10 degrees. That's Celsius for you moonmen from the US. The normal high is -6 for this time of the year. This weather has persisted for a few days now, resulting in considerable thaw and an immense, city-wide fog as all the rivers and snowbanks have been steaming in exactly the sort of way your freezer might on a muggy day.

So with the heat, I approached several colleagues and asked them what they felt about global warming now. There was, I'm sure you can imagine, a lot of topic changes.