Saturday, July 22, 2006

Y'know, I'd kind of like to be into some really niche kind of music, just for the sake of it. Really hardcore industrial or screamy paint-my-fingernails-black angst-rock or something. I just find them all intensely uninteresting.
They will try to tell you that King Dork, by Frank Portman, is a book. Do not be decieved. It is a joygasm in a box. Or, well, it would be, if you put it in a box.

It's like this. Excuse me while I get teenaged for a moment: Nobody understands me. Or actually, a lot of people probably do, but they're not talking about my situation, they're off talking about something else that, to be fair, is probably a lot more interesting. Most everyone who writes anything involving the state of living for a teenager these days in an average high school is living in some kind of fantasy world that I can only assume bears little relation to even their own childhood, let alone anything in the past decade. See my John Hughes-related rant from several months ago. Now, King Dork still seems a big exaggerated about certain points--mostly how overt people can be about hostility towards one, and of course about how much sexing the average dweeb royalty gets--but I get the feeling it's completely true in some high schools, just not mine. And the protagonist is me. I don't mean he's like me, I don't mean we share traits, I mean he's me. It's freaking scary. His surroundings are pretty different, but hell, he even has an army jacket he wears everywhere. The book is a surreal mishmash of highschool life, codes, conspiracy, tits, Catcher in the Rye, band names, pseudohippies, and murder investigation, but the plot is essentially incidental to the feel of it, the atmosphere, like an artsy movie. It's like talking to the best friend I never had. Just read the thing.

the monkey and the plywood violin

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Oh now this is just nifty.

even if i quit there's not a chance in hell i'd stop

Friday, July 14, 2006

Alright, much to say. First of all, I recently (well, for a given value of "recent") got back from my aunt's beach house in the fine state of Maine. I appreciate that through the magic of nepotism my family gets for free a week of lodgings that would probably cost several grand in one of the greatest vacation spots in the US, and yes, Maine is an incredibly nice place, but I must mention something to you: for some reason, many people consider Maine to be a great place for swimming. Do not be fooled. I have been to the place, and felt the water, in every different part of summer, and at none of these times has it been warm enough to not make my teeth start chattering and my lips turn blue within half an hour. Enjoy the beaches and such, if you go there, but for God's sake don't try to swim, I want you with all your toes.

Next item: During aforesaid week in Maine (during which there were no internets nor video games, eek) and the following week or so during which I have been cut off from those same activities, I ripped through a godawful amount of reading, most of it the first seven of the eight books in something called the Dresden Files, by Jim Butcher. I've since read the eighth. It's kind of hardboiled Sam Spade detective-y, only the detective in question is Chicago's only professional wizard. Really good stuff, intensely badass, although the series is supporting a lot of weight by the end of this book. During that one, Harry Dresden acquires a vendetta with an immensely powerful creature from the Nevernever (meaning the magical otherworld) and the reader essentially goes "what else is new," since he already has two after him at this point, from two other adventures. Dresden has (begin spoilers) recently picked up a roommate who is actually a sex-vampire character introduced several books ago, who it turns out is actually his long-lost half-brother, who it turns out his mother (who it turns out was not the angelic person he always imagined, but was in fact a wayward black magician who it turns out had at one time been tutored by the mage who taught Harry, who it turns out actually ignores the magical laws he instilled in Harry, and who is a hitman for the wizard government) had when she got it on with the king of one of four Vampire Courts, three of whom Harry has separately under different circumstances in three different books given cause to want him dead, in between which he killed one of the Faerie Queens (there are six) and then, after that, got a copy of a fallen angel stuck in his head. (End spoilers.) When you start needing a flowchart to understand the overarching plot, there's something wrong, and ordinarily this would kill a series outright, but somehow Butcher stops you from noticing it practically at all and everything is tight and page-turner-y. Definitely pick it up, it's awesome. Butcher also has a much more traditional tolkien-y series out, which I intend to pick up soon.

As a final note, I'm going to ape PA (because hey, if you're going to steal, steal from the best) and start leaving cryptic little lyrics snatches in italics at the ends of my posts. I don't know how to make them do that tooltip thing, though, so it'll be a little game of Guess That Tune for the reader.

i can’t hear you ’cause we’re breakin’ up

Saturday, July 01, 2006

Alright, Eon8 was awesome. For the last week or so, it's just been a big timer and a lot of really cryptic stuff. The link flooded virally, everyone told their friends. There was an investigative ytmnd which may well have been made by the same people who started the site. Most were sure it'd be a marketing ploy or whatever, some actually thought it was dangerous (there was a map of "deployment points" with red dots all over the world) and most other just thought it might be cool. So zillions flooded the site at midnight EDT today (July 1) to see what would happen...and after the timer ran out, now the page displays:

"As of July 1st, 2006, the E8 Project has completed. The purpose of this project was to determine the reactions of the internet public to lack of information."

Now that's just cool.