Such Americans.

Check it.

So at work, one of my fellow employees gets the idea to get everyone who works in the different departments together for a Christmas get-together. An e-mail was sent out from one of the managers about a possible location being at a nicer restaurant chain, along with the idea of a "Secret Santa" gift exchange. Honestly, I thought this was a great idea. There's nothing better than good food and the giving of gifts and spending time with people that we see everyday, but away from the hassles of the workplace. Nothing but relaxation and good times to be had by all. But, wouldn't you know it, before you could say; "Bah Humbug" these little nuggets of holiday cheer found their way into my inbox.

"I don't want to go to that place for dinner. It's so expensive and I can't afford it."

"I agree. It's not fair to us who can't afford to eat at that place. We should have a potluck instead."

"I don't want to have a potluck because I don't want to worry about cooking."

"How come no one e-mailed the training department about this?"

"Potlucks leave people on third shift out. We should go out to eat."

"I don't want to do a Secret Santa. I don't know most of the people in these departments and I would feel uncomfortable buying presents for them. Besides, that's expensive and I can't afford it."

"I think we should do the Secret Santa, it would help us to get to know the people better."

"How come no one has e-mailed the training department about this yet?"

Happy freakin' holidays, right? So, a couple days ago I get an e-mail from someone in my department that said the following:

"Seeing as a lot of us won't be going to the [name of restaurant] here, we've decided to have our own 'affordable' Christmas Gathering. And what do you guys think of a Secret Santa for just our departmnet?"

It's funny. But not "ha-ha" funny, or even "that's really ironic" funny. It's unfunny funny. Which is the worst kind of funny of them all.

-D out.

An open letter to Pat Robertson.

Reference material

Dear Mr Robertson:

I find your recent comments rather questionable. To make my following argument clear, please allow me to outline what I feel you are saying. (If I am misunderstanding you, please feel free to correct me.)

1. The people of Dover, PA have rejected God.
2. They have done this by not electing school board members who believe in intelligent design.
3. Having rejected God, the people of Dover may never call upon God again, because they have "rejected him" from their city.

Let's start at the top, shall we? If people have rejected God from Dover, shouldn't we be hearing about all the churches closing? Wouldn't there be an uproar about it? Parades, demonstrations, etc.? In my experience, humans never do anything quietly unless they did not want anyone else to know about it. If everyone in Dover agreed to reject God, I think there would have been at least an assembly, possibly followed with a ceremony where Stephen Hawking is presented with the key to the city. (No offense intended, Stephen.)

Second, just because a person believes in intelligent design does not mean they have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. It doesn't even mean they believe in God. It just means they recognize that the universe is too intricately formed to have been the result of pure chance, and needed some outside influence to put everything together. To say that not having people who believe this on the school board in Dover means that the entire town of Dover has rejected God is placing your argument on a very slippery slope.

Thirdly, I find it rather hard to believe that God would turn his back on people for something so petty. Didn't the Isrealites build a golden calf while the real, visible, God was occupying a mountain not too far away? In spite of that, and all the other things I could name, God still chose this people to be the insurment of the revalation of His son.

Frankly, I don't think you speak for God. If you claim to be a Christian, then that would lead me to assume that you follow the ways of Christ. However, I don't think Christ ever opened a dialogue with anyone by threatening damnation. Did you ever stop to consider that maybe these are the people you should be reaching out to? But no, they do not subscribe to your politics (and if you think about it, that's all this situation is) and therefore all they are worth of is the Good Lord's wrath, possibly in the form of fire and brimstone from heaven. Did it occur to you that such actions may distance these people from Christ? "Don't turn to God" ... isn't that what you want them to do?

I'd ask that you take what I said into consideration, and let God guide you throughout.

Sincerely,
A blogger by the name of -D.

Changing gears.

So, I had this plan for the rest of my life. Okay, okay, it was more like the next couple of years, but it was still both a plan, and covered a significant amount of my life here on Earth. But then
someone, who will remain ANONYMOUS, threw a monkey wrench into that plan. Gears were broken, cogs bounded away in new lives unencumbered by the plan, springs snapped, and the intricate system of pulleys and levers that was "the plan" came crashing down. Okay, okay. I threw the wrench. I knew I was throwing it. I knew what throwing a wrench into my plan would do. Let's move on, shall we?

So I'm looking at what I now see as the rest of my life, or at least the next several dozen years, and I keep wondering, "Is this it?" I mean, is this what God has in store for me? Am I in control of my own destiny? I mean, I know what I am to do, and I have an idea of what I will do, and I have a fuzzy picture of how those two things will coincide with each other. But is this it? As I stand here, looking at what I think I can see, am I seeing that which I was called to do? What I was made for? Can I use this for the good that is far greater than myself?

It's odd. I really don't feel afraid. I think part of me should, or part of me wants to, but if what I can see now is anything near what will be, then God has blessed me far beyond my capacity for
understanding.

…

I think I'm going to sit down for a while.

-D out.

It's nice to have a muse.

Oh then, what shall I say?
To what, can I, draw in comparison to thee?
The sky? Nay, for surely the firmament
Would become green out of pure envy
The sun? Never! The earth itself would burn
Under thousands of fiery tears, wept in anguish
The moon and stars? Only if darkness were my aim
As surely they would flee from such high and lofty positions
These cursed words fail me
What discourse could do thee justice? None!

Oh then, what shall I say?
Dare I mention the moments we share most tender?
That I have burdened thy lips with mine?
That such sweet delectables are even available to me?
That I have laid my head at thy breast
And was welcome to find refuge there?
That thine eyes do entrap me?
To have that contact broken leaves me in torment?
Would anyone believe such inanities if
They were to be voiced from my mouth? Absurd!

Oh then, what shall I say?
That this third-rate verse is enough
To give consequence to that which I feel?
That the weight of this world seems naught
When thine smile graces my eyes?
That pains already endured are pardoned and
Faith is justified when I am in thine arms?
I have fallen so short of this task
That I have lain before myself, to define that
Which thou arouses in me? That I could write
Those words that would assure you of
My love.

(-D out.)

I learned it by watching you!

So, in the downtime I have at work, which is a fair amount, I surf news websites and catch up on current events. I know I really don’t blog about such things, but something struck me as ironic.

So, the US goes into Iraq, ousts Saddam and installs a democratic government. A president is elected. A constitution is drafted, wait… the Sunni Arabs, who used to be in power don’t like it because they don’t feel they have much of a say in what goes into the constitution. Well, they are the minority. Of COURSE they don’t have much of a say.

But I was thinking about it, and reading about events that were going on in America just previously. Turns out the minority (Democrats) were rather upset that they didn’t have much of a say when it came to John Bolton (UN ambassador) or John Roberts (Supreme Court nominee). There were threats of filibusters, and the response of Republicans to pass measures to block filibusters when it came to judicial nominees.

I can’t help but think that these two things are related. Did the US, when installing a new government, also install the notion that the minority must always be heard, respected, and held up?

Sure doesn’t sound like coincidence to me.

-D out.

Like a band-aid?

So, I was posting a comment on a blog of a friend of mine, when I read what I was posting and it struck me as odd. To sum up, and without having to cut and paste URLs, I said that I was tired of my job. Well, I've always known that, but I was telling my friend to get out, when getting out wasn't what I was doing.

Case of the plank vs the speck? Pot to kettle, "You're black"? Maybe. I don't think that matters in the long run though.

So, I know what I want to do. I won't get into it, the specifics are not important. I know how to do it, and I am confident that I can do it well. Well enough, anyways. I could even start *right now* but there in lies the problem. You see, what I'm planning, like almost everything else in life, requires money. Call it venture capital, bankroll, whatever, I'll need some before I can get established. Therein lies the problem.

You see, to get this money, I have to keep working the 9-5 that I am. The longer I work there, the more I don't like working there. Also, the longer I work there, the deeper my roots get. I'm resistant to leave, cause hey, I'm dependent on it. Vicious cycle? Yes.

I don't think this a Catch-22. It's more akin to fear felt when you have to jump from the burning building onto the airbag 20-something stories down (did I mention I'm acrophobic?). I know it's what I have to do, but it involves a large risk without a sure reward. I mean, can't I be stable and happy?

-D out.

A friendly suggestion.

If you, my blog reader, ever visit my parents, do not, and I mean, do NOT close any doors in the house. They tend to stick.

I was trapped in the bathroom for longer than I really wanted to be today.

-D out.

Reminder

Never eat watermelon over the keyboard, no matter how good of watermelon it may be.

-D out.

A really long post on a really unimportant topic.

Back in the day, I was really good at making mix tapes. Well, if I kept the music to the genres that my friends liked (read: alternative only), I got high praise for my ability to select and record songs on lengths of magnetic tape. I could even eliminate the clicking noise that you got between songs. I'll admit, if I had a tape deck that worked in my car, I'd still rock out to all that crap I listened to in high school.

You see, it's all about flow. You can't just put random songs in there, even if they are the Best Songs Ever. Metallica can't come immediately before They Might Be Giants (in most cases) just like you should never have Nine Inch Nails anywhere near a Counting Crows song. Flow is key if the mix has no overlying theme. That's not to say that TMBG can't be on the same album as "One" you just have to transition from one to the other. Consider going from One to Ozzy's "Iron Man" to AC/DC's "Thunderstruck" to Reel Big Fish's "Rock and Roll is Bitchin'" to TMBG's "Robot Parade." Given the electronica plus guitar nature of Robot Parade, you could easily transition into some techno if you felt like. Or, staying with the pop/quirky nature of TMBG's stuff, consider some Presidents of the USA, Dead Milkmen, or "Weird Al" Yankovic to follow up.

Now, if the mix you're making has a general theme to all the songs (love tends to be a popular one, although the break-up mix is one of my personal faves) flow can be set on the back burner. It still helps if the songs can fit together, but it's not essential. Also, hopping between musical genres is also easier, as long as the theme stays constant. R&B and hip hop can be side by side with country and death metal, as long as the feeling produced by said songs is similar.

Now of course, with the death of the tape deck and rise of burnable CDs, a shift in perspective is needed. You see, with tapes, there's this lovely pause you get when one side runs out and you have to flip the tape over. This pause is a nice transitional device, as you can switch genres, themes, even types of media from one side to the other. A tape could have 30 minutes of love songs on one side, and 30 minutes of Bill Cosby's stand up routine on the other. Problem with CD's is that nice little pause disappears. So, roll up your sleeves and get ready to crank out another 50 minutes of material that can flow.

Something I found that helps is to have an "intermission" in where one track smack dab in the middle is something completely different than everything else on the CD. I've gotten a lot of mileage out of The Jerky Boy's "Little Elves" in this position. It's funny, and you've erased any previous feeling that was emitted from the CD. Although, using this trick to go from a mix containing stuff like God Lives Underwater, Type O Negative, and Perfect Circle to a mix mostly made up of show tunes ("Ooooklahoma!") is not recommended.

Now, of course, new (well, not so new) technology has spelled the end of the mix tape/cd. Once we finally start plugging multi-gig hard drives up to our stereo systems that are loaded with our stellar mp3 collections, forget mixing, forget flow. Punch up a playlist if you feel in a certain mood, but there's no reason to alter media to get your sonic poetry in motion if there's no restriction on space. Sure, there is a restriction to how may thousands of files you can fit on one of those, but if you need more music than that, I'll wonder about you.

Sad, really. I'm not good at a lot of stuff, and I was really proud of my abilities with a tape deck, a line in cord, and my brother's CD player.

-D out.

Step Two Complete.

Car paid off? Check.

-D out.

The Top Ten things I would do if I were to die tomorrow.

10. Find the person responsible for The Surreal Life, and then hit
repeatedly. In the face. With my car.

9. Attempt to consume my body weight in burritos in one sitting.

8. Give back all that money to the orphanage.

7. Reminisce on how good my life could have been, had I been in
possession of a flamethrower.

6. Give back all the orphans to the orphanage.

5. Fondue forks for everybody!

4. Prove that it really is better to light the candle from both ends.

3. Coat the floor of an ER with cooking grease.

2. Release 250 raccoons onto the floor of the Senate during a filibuster. One of them would be rabid.

1. Two words - Apocalypse: Hollywood.

-D out.

Die! Die! Di... oh, sod it all.

Bah. I'll kill the giant tomorrow. I'm not up for driving back to my apartment just to drive back here again.

*yawn*

It's been six years, but one more day won't kill me.

-D out.

Faith or apathy?

I'm sure everyone who has ears or eyes and was in ear/eye shot of a radio/tv knows what happened in London this last week. I'm also equally sure that most people aren't aware of what my sister-in-law went through on Saturday. To me, these two events are connected, but in a different sort of way.

To sum up, my sis was taken to the hospital as her pregnancy was getting complicated. From what I understand, the baby wanted out NOW and was not going to take no for an answer. Problem is that the kid still has three months left to cook before it's all over. So, before transit from a hospital to a specialist's office, my brother was told it was very possible that the baby would be born that night. He told me later that he was hoping that the child and his wife could hold on for another week. When they arrived at the specialist, everything checked out fine, and there is, as of the time of this posting, no baby birth.

Now, when I first heard about the terror attacks in London, I wasn't affected too much. I don't know anyone in London, and while it saddens me that people can take human lives so indifferently, I didn't think much about it. I think it's fair enough to call me apathetic to the situation, or at least calloused enough to where I'm not surprised that it happened.

What digs me is that I had a similar feeling after hearing about my sister in law. Now, my situation emotionally is much different from what happened in London. I'm certainly not apathetic to my brother and his wife. I love them both dearly, and while I haven't thought much about being an uncle, I am excited for them. So why the lack of feeling? It's not because I don't care, I'm sure of that. I'd like to think that I trust God so implicitly with the things in my life that I don't worry about stuff. Nice theory, but does it work in practice?

Whenever I hear about stuff going on in the world (i.e., London bombings, war in Iraq, war vs. terror, etc., etc.) I keep thinking of the following:

"You will hear of wars, and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come." (Mat. 24:6 NIV)

When it comes to people I know, I keep thinking such:

"But what's good and bad,
flow from the hands,
of the God with the perfect plan.
Filling us with joy, all of this will glorify." (Beautiful Song, FIF)

As to which it is that feeds my imperturbation, faith or apathy, I'm still not sure. But, eh, I'm not going to sweat it.

That was a joke.

-D out.

So little time.

Hey, there *are* places to learn capoeira in Arizona.

Sweet.

-D out.

I need a spotter.

There's just something ... heart-warming (yeah, that's it) about being able to add "Sniper" to my ever-expanding skill set.

Next are "Cook," "Card Shark," and "Martial Artist."

"Ninja" will take a bit longer, but I think I can get there.

-D out.

Reflection with a complimentary air-freshener.

So, I washed my car today. Normally, that in itself isn't blog-worthy material for people who post like I do. However, for those who know me, like Jamie, washing my car is like Christmas, it only happens once a year and my parents get more excited about it than I do. The point to all this? I'm getting to it.

Gone is the dirt from the time I lived in that crappy studio apartment where I lived during some of the hardest times of my life.

Gone is the finger marks from the friends who wrote things like "I'm drunk" and "Gaijin with yellow fever" after I drove them home from a birthday party full of binge drinking and possible alcohol poisoning. Funny that a month or so after that incident, (which was officially a year ago) we parted ways, and I thought I'd never really see them again. I helped them move into a new apartment yesterday, after gaming with them until about 3 in the morning the previous night.

Gone is the "I ♥ D. -CF" from when me and my ex were happy together. She thought it would last forever. I knew it wouldn't. Eventually, she caught on.

And finally, gone is all that bird crap. That was the most annoying of them all.

This was just the outside. Heaven forbid I'd post about reminiscing on cleaning out the interior of my car.

-D out.

Hold 'em. Fold 'em. Walk away. Run.

Alright. I started playing poker because it gave me something to do on Sunday nights. Just a half-dozen guys that I know, some chips, a soda or two, and if I was lucky, I'd recoup my entry fee ($5).

Well, that was like that a month or two ago. One night we were short some people, so I rang my buddy Joe. (Joe's not his real name, just in case anyone at my poker game reads my blog.) Joe came along, fit in, and did well. The week after that, one of the guys, Phil (also not Phil's name) invited one of his roommates because we were playing at Phil's place. We had a nice, comfortable eight people and it was all good. Phil's roomie seemed like a nice guy, and the game went smoothly, even if I didn't get my five bucks back.

Fast forward to today. I call around, and we're having poker, even though it's Memorial Day. I figured a small turnout. Nope. Now it's eleven people, most of whom I don't know, including an apparent card shark who likes to belittle the people he beats. Joe's bringing a friend, even though we had a full table with him, so now it's two tables, one inside and one on the patio...

Now, I can understand if people have fun together, then more people having fun is generally a good thing. But, if I'm deriving my fun from the fact that it's a small gathering of my friends, and now it's a bunch of people I don't know, then I might as well play in the Monday night tourneys at Old Chicago.

At least it's free.

-D out.

Insert befuddled blinking here.

I watched Jin-Roh the other night.

Man, that made no sense.

-D out.

Exhale, exhale, exhale.

I finally figured something out about myself that I think was a long time coming. You see, I've never really been able to excel at anything, and I know why. At an early age, I was reading well above my age level, and it was obvious (at least to me anyways) that I was much smarter than
kids my own age. Do you see where this is going? From an early age, I was told I was smart, and that I could accomplish anything. And honestly, I had the smarts and the ability to do so. I'm sure I could have even had a career as an athlete, if I had put the training necessary into it. Here's where it all went awry. I figured that my innate ability was enough by itself. I didn't need to go to school, or practice anything. I just always assumed I'd succeed at anything I wanted to, from the outset, without having to try. So, imagine my surprise when I couldn't ride a skateboard, much less pull off any freaky trick you see on the X-Games. And when I sat down at a poker table, thinking I'd run everyone out of their shorts? Yeah. They read me like a bad Tom Clancy novel. I don't think I need to relate my experiences cooking.

Is it too late for me to change? Can I pick myself up, dust myself off, get on with my life and finally accomplish something more that getting by? Or have I been too cowed by my first failures that I'm content to stagnate, while all the while beating myself about the head, wondering why I haven't gone anywhere? Hmm.

-D out.

Justified road rage? Maybe.

I saw something the other day that really irked me. I was in my car driving, when I saw one of those huge decal/label/sticker things in someone's back window. It read, "Have you forgotten 9-11?" and had an American flag fashioned in the shape of the lower 48.

I'm pretty sure if you asked anyone in America above the age of ten years what happened on "9-11" you would get a recollection of planes hitting the World Trade Center towers. It's not a case of people forgetting 9-11. To forget means to have no recollection of (at least, the last time I checked). What I think the case is, and what the sticker is trying to accuse us of, is that we as a people have pushed it from the forefront of our minds. Apparently, by doing that, we (those who are not thinking about it 24-7) are bad people.

Don't get me wrong. What happened on that day was an abomination to mankind. To callously take that many lives without remorse, and supposedly in the name of god is, in my opinion, a one-way ticket straight to hell.

However, I think that we should move past it. We as a people should recognize it, deal with it, and remember it so it doesn't happen again, but we need to move past it. It's unhealthy to keep our focus on it. If you keep looking over your shoulder, you're not watching the road.

-D out.

Random thought.

So, I was looking at a package of Halls cough drops when I noticed something.  The directions state to dissolve two drops on the tongue, one at a time.  Why not just make the cough drop twice as big?

-D out.

Step one complete.

Passport? Check.

Survived? Contended? Apprenticed? Idolized? What?

So, I don’t watch TV anymore.  When I moved into the place I’m in now, I set up my TV, but never got a set of rabbit ears for it.

Which is fine, as I don’t miss it much.  So I’m behind on who did what to who on what show.  Whatever.  I was never really big on TV in the first place, so it’s not much of a loss.  It’s like losing a little toe.  It’s weird at first, but soon enough, you don’t miss it.  Sure, I’m left out of the conversations at the water cooler at work, but talking about TV is like admitting that you have nothing interesting to say in the first place.

Don’t get me wrong.  I still play video games and watch the occasional movie, but network and cable are not options at my pad.  Frankly, I’m better off without it.  No media spin to keep me up at night, and no commercials telling me how my life isn’t complete yet.  I see it this way:  My life isn’t complete until I die, and I’m not really scared of death.

So take that, Mr Corporate Advertising Executive.  Your thirty second mind games have no affect on me!

Bwahahaha!

-D out.

This, coming from the people who brought us Pokemon and the Power Rangers.

I watched The Grudge the other night.

Now that I’ve gone and said that, you probably want a review or something. Gah. You people. You’re so insatiable. Always with the reading of my blog, and wanting to know what I think about stuff. Is there no end? Must you insist on hearing my every thought, every electrical impulse that arcs between the cells in my brain? Can’t I just write for me?

So, anyways, The Grudge stars Sarah Michelle Gellar and features Bill Pullman. It’s about this nursing student Karen (Gellar) who has traveled to Japan with her boyfriend (Guy whose name I can’t remember). There, she is sent to care for this elderly woman (not important) in this house, as it seems Yoko, the person who normally took care of her, didn’t come into work one day. Eh, I’m not spoiling anything, Yoko buys it in the first scene. Anyhoo, Karen hits the place up, sees really weird things, and strange stuff starts happening, people start dying, etc., etc.

The movie follows standard horror movie fare, and all the scares are predictable. Nothing that will keep you up at night. Actually, I found myself laughing at most of what was to be considered “scary.” What really stumps me about this flick is that there’s really not a point. The concept of the house, and what happened there, and why all that is bad is explained in the opening credits, but is never really built on. Tack on a car-wreck ending^*, and you’ve got a movie that doesn’t make a lot of sense. There seems to be no reason why the spooks are offing anyone aside from the fact that they’re “supposed” to, and there’s no good explanation as to why some of the people who died, well, died. Apparently, just being in the presence of ghosts or zombies makes people die. Why? Because human beings are stupid, cowardly people who don’t know how to fight or run away. Okay, I’m getting away from myself.

Production wise, the movie doesn’t shatter any molds. The acting is decent enough, with Gellar putting in a decent enough performance with the ability to scream on cue. Visually, it looks a lot like Japan, which is probably a good thing, given that’s where the story takes place. The special effects were limited, which seemed oddly appropriate for something with Sam Raimi’s name on it.

My girlfriend once said that she doesn’t hold grudges because it takes too much effort and life is too short. That’s very good advice, and very applicable to this movie.

-D out.

*Car-wreck ending: A ending so sudden, you don't see it coming and refuse to believe it's ended until the credits start to roll.

The sounds of splintering wood and tearing paper.

The following conversation actually happened. The names have been changed to protect the stupid.

Me: “Hi Sue.”

Sue: “Hi D, I see you and Alan dressed alike today.”

Me: “No we didn’t. Look at him, he’s wearing a grey, short sleeved, button up shirt, I’m wearing a navy blue sweater. He’s wearing tan slacks, I’m wearing black cargo pants. He has tennis shoes, I’m wearing Airwalks. What makes you think we actually dressed alike today?”

Sue: “Well, you look so different, you guys must have planned what you are wearing today.”

A moment of silence will be held for the passing of what was my last shred of hope in humanity.

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Waffle House at three in morning is quite the experience.

Agustinesque, anyone?

So my birthday was… oh… about a month or so ago, and it got me thinking about just how old I really am.  If I went by the popular definition of age, I’m a bit over 27 years old.  Now, if I really wanted to get technical, I could add nine months to that figure, given the time I spent in the womb.  I guess that one depends on what you believe to be life and when it starts, but for the sake of the argument, I could say I’m nearly 28.

 

However, while I was thinking about all of this, something struck me.  I’m a writer.  I’m not published, or even very good, but I do carry around a plethora of characters around in my head.  To me, they have personalities and thoughts and feelings and wants and needs, just like any human being you happen to pass on the street.  Are they real?  Not in the physical sense.  They only exist in my head.  But, they exist on some level.  Before I thought of them, they didn’t have any place in time or space.  They still don’t, unless I take time to put them to paper.  Now, granted, my parents didn’t know my name, or how I think, or if I like snozberries or not, but they had an idea to have a child.  Did I start to exist then, if only as an idea?  Did the choice to procreate by my parents set the foundation for what was to come later, namely, me?

 

Let me take it a step further.  Let me also assume a few things to progress this argument. 

 

1.  God exists. 

2.  God created everything, including me. 

3.  God knows everything. 

4.  Since God created everything, including time, he exists outside of everything, including time.

 

If these things are true, then ponder this.  God, with all his knowledge, must have known about the universe and everything inside of it before it came to be.  Now, if God knew about everything before he created it, then he must have known about me.  If he knew about me outside of time, then it goes to show that I existed outside of time as well, even if it was only in the mind of God.  Could it be that my life right now is a mere snapshot of my entire existence?  Could it also be said that when this corporeal body fades away, I will continue to exist?

 

Dang.  I feel old.

 

-D out.

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This update comes entirely from my cell phone. I am so freakin 133+, its scary.

Oh, the other definition.

So, it turns out I'll be an uncle soon.

Before I go into further detail, let me start by saying that I'm named
after an uncle that I have.

So, I talked to my brother yesterday, and he was like, "Hey, uncle D"
which kind of tipped me off that him and his wife were expecting,
because, while he could have thought he was talking to pur uncle, he
called me, and I'm pretty sure he knew who he was calling.

So, in nine months, I'll get to be the cool uncle that spoils my
niece/nephew/both (could be twins, mind you) then sends them home.

Uncle. What a funny word.

-D out.

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Ahh, so this is how you update through your e-mail.

Slick.

-D out

It's not much of a story.

So, I picked up Fable a while back, and thought I'd write about it.

For the uninitiated, Fable is a game for the Xbox. Lionhead Studios and Big Blue Box had hands in making it. You see, when I heard about it, I looked forward to it. I really wanted to like it, too. Not the kind of liking that you have for games that you rent for a weekend to keep you occupied on Saturday, but a Halo kind of liking. A Romance of the Three Kingdoms kind of liking. A liking that stirs something deep inside you everytime you hear the title, even if the person saying it isn't talking about the game.

Basic Plot: You start as a kid in a small town, with a need for a birthday present for your sister. Your dad tells you that you can do good deeds around town to earn money for said present. These "quests" can be either done in a good way, or in a bad way, but the end result is the same, with a few variances. Later you go onto hero school and learn the ways of a hero as a teenager, then you graduate, become an adult, and a full-fledged hero, that can take on quests, kill stuff, etc., etc.

Congratulations, that's the entire game. It's doing the same things in different ways, depending on the personal tastes of the player. Me, I played a bad guy. I ran around killing traveling merchants instead of trading with them. I stole things from shops instead of buying them. I broke into peoples houses and riffled through their stuff. But, that was about it.

The game seemed to be both deep and shallow at the same time. It had various elements common to other RPGs (although I really don't agree with the term RPG on anything resembling a console) but the problem was, no matter what you did most, like cast spells, hit things with an ax, or shoot things with your bow, you generally accumilated enough general experience to increase any area of study. That really takes away from the game, because you can do nothing cast lightning throughout the enitre game and still be able to level up your strength skills.

Also, the main character never says a word, thus taking away from the whole good vs evil thing. The morality that's supposedly so important in the game is simply reduced to who you killed more, merchants or bandits. Not to mention the whole good player/bad player thing has been done before, and done better. (Knights of the Old Republic and the Fallout series come to mind)

The quests are simply the same things over and over again. A couple do have some variations on the "go somewhere and kill a bunch of stuff" staple, like escorting traders from point A to B. There's also one where you "need" to be stealthy, but I found it was easier (not to mention more fun) just to kill everything in your path, then sneak around.

Aside from the main part of the game of running around and killing stuff, there are some enjoyable divergences. There are some pub games for play, villagers you can hit on, chickens to kick. They're nice, and the "Best Chicken Kick" stat in the personality screen is a nice little touch, but it all still felt pretty flat.

Now, if you're going to talk graphics or gameplay, the controls are nice and simple. I would have liked the option to customize them at one point or another. Using magic seems a bit awkward at first, but honestly, if you can't hold R trigger while you push x,a, or b, then you're just pathetic. (I played through the game as a spell slinger.) The game looks very good, but it's rather disappointing that everyone you see or fight against comes from the same five molds.

All in all, this game is enjoyable, but not great. Rent it, borrow it from a pal, but only drop $50 on it if you REALLY like it.

-D out