Tuesday, 15 November 2011

Apologies and Explanations

Right here's the deal. I'm failing at the updates for two reasons. One is Skyrim... I didn't know it'd be as good as it is. The second is a fairly major writing project I'm working on. As such  I won't be posting again until the new year. I am sorry for this I promise my return in January will be triumphant. I look forward to the fresh start and hope you join me when I return. Peace.

eddie <sorry>

Wednesday, 9 November 2011


Have you ever gone to visit a place from your childhood and discovered that while nothing has changed the intervening time has so vastly altered your perceptions that it suddenly seems like a completely different place. That disconnect can be so unsettling that it can be genuinely creepy. Sometimes it's worse, sometimes there are things in these place that your tiny child brain perceived one way but your adult mind sees the terrifying truth of. Like when you used to visit your grand-parents house and you found the secret toy room with the indoor playground only to years later realise that you'd been playing on Nana and Pappy's sex-swing. Well I recently sat down and played Super Mario Bros. and I felt a creeping horror seal into my soul. You see playing that game with my cynical adult brain I noticed several inconsistencies between the game I was playing and the story I was being told. I was left with one earth-shattering conclusion. 

Mario is the bad-guy. 

I mean, yeah, it seems obvious from this picture

This is a bold claim that would start a war in the comment section if this blog was popular thank fuck for my hard earned anonymity. I don't make this statement lightly and I do indeed have some evidence to back up my theory. Let us start at the beginning. You start the game after Princess Peach has been kidnapped by King Koopa, or so we are led to believe. You see we don't witness any such crime nor does the game commence at the crime scene, no the game commences with Mario on the outskirts of a place called the Mushroom Kingdom. That's an important fact, we're in a Kingdom who would rule such a place? Well the only King we meet during proceedings is in fact King Koopa. I mean why wouldn't he be king literally half of the things in the kingdom are reptilian and the others are just weird. I don't think it's a stretch to conclude that this chap is in fact the legitimate ruler of the world that Mario is about to invade.

Yeah he may look monstrous but his fiscal policy was so sound
he could afford, literally, to build with blocks filled with cash.

That's right, I said invade. You see there are two ways to interpret the world we find ourselves in. One is that Mario was so slow off of the mark with his rescue attempt that HRH King Koopa has had time to build a vast network of incredibly elaborate obstacles, dungeons and castles or this stuff was all here already. Now which of those two things is more likely? I think it's fairly obvious that all this stuff was already here. Now that implies that Mario is in fact assaulting this innocent fiefdom. When you realise this, the entire game makes a huge amount more sense. Let's indulge Mario's delusion for a while and assume that he is in fact rescuing a beleaguered Princess. Why on arrival at the edge of this elaborate set of traps that the Noble King Koopa the Gentle has established isn't there any fortification something like... Oh, I dunno... A MASSIVE FUCKING WALL! No the first thing you have to run into is a little tortoise going about it's business and you kill it. Seriously you don't meet a single thing that fights back until the one of the Hammer Brothers shows up. I'm also now operating on the assumption that he only arrived to investigate reports of multiple deaths and a streak of property destruction.

Pictured: Justice Mushroom Kingdom Style.

Now I know what your thinking, how? Because I'm better than you. You're thinking two things, firstly that I think way to much about these things and secondly that the place you're invading is in fact Koopa's realm and not the Mushroom Kingdom. I mean you don't meet any of the eponymous mushrooms... except in the heart of the castles. Hmmm that's peculiar why are these individuals here deep in the heart of these stronholds? There is only one explanation that makes sense, these toadstools are in fact the loyal retainers of the Magnificent King Koopa The Wise and his wife Princess Peach. 

Why do you think he's flipping you off?

Oh, did I not mention that they were married. You see, in later games the Koopa children appear and state that Princess Peach is in fact their mother. Mario assumes they've been lied to by their father, because his obsession and delusion knows no bounds (it is also worth noting that Mario kills every single one of the children), but bearing in mind one of them is a young science genius we can assume that he was able to run the required genetic tests.

I think it was, shockingly, the one with the nerd glasses

When you realise that you've been looking at the whole series from the wrong side suddenly the more bizarre aspects of the Mario universe make a metric fuck-ton of sense. Ever wondered why Mario and Peach invite Koopa to come go-karting with them? They don't. The scary socio-path who finds it incredibly easy to mercilessly slaughter every single citizen in King Koopa's (May he reign for a thousand years) domain and brutally murdered their innocent children (who made the ultimate sacrifice to protect the ones they love) go-karting. The first time they got the invite they were probably all "What the Fuck?" This is a guy who is an unstoppable force from hell who will literally travel to the ends of the earth and beyond to rape the fuck out of the sovereigns wife, fuck that guy. Of course they don't go. Now let me ask what did you do when you weren't playing Mariokart? That's right you fired up Super Mario World and embarked on another deluded rape-quest didn't you, you psycho. So the next time he asked them if they wanted to play golf, tennis or race His Majesty King Koopa the Kind begrudgingly agreed whilst Peach sat in the shower crying. Don't judge them it was the only way.

Look into her eyes and tell me you don't see fear.

You see Mario is nothing more than an unstoppable rape-machine. Fuelled by obsession and allowed free reign to do as he pleases by the mad power that you as a player have invested him with. Even space isn't far enough to run from the deluded midget plumber. When you realise this it changes everything... and weirdly makes the game considerably more fun.

Don't even get me started on this sick fuck.

eddie <writing the phrase 'deluded rape-quest' is one of the proudest moments of my life>

Monday, 7 November 2011


So my thrice weekly trip to the inspiration well was a little dry today. However I recently stated in an online conversation/debate/flame-war that hate is a fairly worthless emotion, due to the fact that it tends to inflict significantly more damage on the person holding it than on the intended target. In that vein I have decide to unburden myself.

So, in no particular order, here is a list of some people I hate.

Person: Nick Clegg.
Reason: Moral Cowardice, Betrayal and Blind Ambition.
This is the face he makes
after Cameron forces him
to swallow the black bile
 he emits instead of semen

There was a point not so long ago when Nick Clegg was a fair bright spot in the morass of political bastardry that is the House of Commons. However the recent election, which only yielded a clear victory for the 'anyone but these cunts' position, put Clegg in a position of almost unique power in the history of British Politics. He had a chance to grab some power and an opportunity to negotiate on his own terms. The nation waited with bated breath as this lone moral beacon got a chance to choose our next Prime Minister and exert a huge influence over the upcoming moral agenda. What was his price? Who would he choose to work with? Was he really the man we'd been led to believe he was? Now I should point out that I don't vote Lib-Dem... I always vote for the green party as I don't relish the idea of the Earth being on fire. However I was fairly hopeful about this change in the status quo. Even when he slid into bed with the Tories (the Conservative Tories not the Labour Tories) I was hopeful that this would mean a legislative agenda at least tempered with morality. Unfortunately as it has transpired the only thing Clegg has taken Cameron to task over is the roughness of his sand-papery balls on his chin. This man is worse than Charles Manson... at least Manson's principles have remained consistent.

Person: Mark Wahlberg
Reason: Continued Attacks on Cultural Heritage
I wanted to find a picture that
summed up why I hate this
 prick... the internet is a gift
that never stops giving.

There was a point when I could easily pick my favourite movie. It was a piece of classic 60's cinema featuring the immense talents of a Michael Caine at the peak of his powers, a comic master-class from the wonderful Benny Hill and the final performance of note from the epic Sir Noel Coward. I am talking of course of The Italian Job. This movie is not just great but is a crucial part of the English psyche. No-one from this nation would dream of defiling it... Enter Mark Fucking Wahlberg... Really Wahlberg did you think you could bring something to the film that Michael Caine couldn't. You cock. The Italian Job remake was so poor the studio had to sue Edward Norton to make him appear in it under contractual obligation. Wahlberg just likes pissing on the work of others... So now the cultural legacy of that great film had been more violated than Elisabeth Fritzl, I moved down the list and promoted The Planet of the Apes to the number one spot... Enter Mark Cunting Wahlberg. The Planet of the Apes remake didn't just piss on the originals story, continuity and anti-nuclear message it was also terribly flawed, poorly acted and bafflingly scripted. I wouldn't be surprised if this mongoloid decided to star in a remake of fucking Jaws. 

Person: Glen Beck
ReasonHypocrisy, Breeding Fear and Hate Mongering
Don't look directly into his eyes...
if you do he replaces all of your
happy memories with images of
screaming children.

It is a timeless truth that the left wing of any political system has an easier time of existing in opposition than the right wing. The left wing tends to have the musicians, artists and most importantly the comedians. During the Bush era the hatred, anger and dissatisfaction the American Left-Wing (the equivalent of the right wing everywhere else on the globe) transmuted itself into laughter at the people in power, helped ably along by the great work of the Stewarts, Feys and Colberts of the world. However when the Obama administration came to power the Republicans instead only had the Fox Lies Network to turn to. Now I actually like O'Reilly, I disagree with everything he says, but he is willing to debate, admit he's wrong and point out the more extreme follies of his own team. Glen Beck is a sinister little cunt who I am fairly certain can only achieve orgasm by picturing Democrats being speared with bayonets. His support of the Tea Party and yet easy dismissal of the Occupy movement combined with his blind support of everything Republican and constant backtracking and rewriting of history make him the Jospeh Goebbels of Right-Wing America.

Person: Tony Blair
Reason: Pathological Liar, Narcissist and War Criminal
This is the creepiest mother-
fucking picture currently
available on the earth.
Tony Blair took the Labour Party and turned them into an effective and electable force. He did this by turning them into the Conservative Party. That, however, is not why I hate him. I hate him because he was so fake I genuinely don't think he ever told the truth, even by accident. He was a man of sound-bites, spin and focus groups... and nothing else. I originally thought he had no substance. Then the Iraq war happened and I realised that all that stage management was there to hide the cold heart of a socio-path. I genuinely believe that as news came in of the first air-strikes Tony Blair had to hide his excitement at the growing numbers of dead Iraqi children. This cruel and malicious cunt hasn't even had the good grace and dignity to admit any responsibility for a single mistake during his reign. While I've softened to George W. Bush, a man I don't want running a country or anything but I reckon he's a great laugh to go drinking with in Texas, the total lack of anything approaching a human-like emotion has made my hate for Blair grow massively.

Person: Chris Brown
Reason: Brutality, Ego and Complete Obliviousness To Reality
Shortly after this picture was
taken Chris savagely beat this
puppy into a fine paste.
I'm not alone in hating Chris Brown, in fact over at cracked.com they devoted an entire article to ways of trolling the petulant child. The list of damn fine reasons to despise the Brownster is so long as to be fairly ridiculous. It's not often when a man beats the ever-loving shit out of a beautiful well-liked and respected woman and that's not even the biggest reason to dislike him. I'm not selling the beating, which was monstrous, short but the way he has chosen to conduct himself since then. He is an angry man-child of a creature. He is constantly demanding forgiveness and gets angry that the majority of society is still stuck on the 'Dude you beat Rihanna to a bloody pulp.' Well you know what Brown you don't get to tell me how I'm supposed feel about your dabbling in domestic violence.

Person: George Lucas
Reason: Pissing on People's Childhood
He stores shattered childhood
dreams in his neck bulge

Imagine that one year you were given a puppy for Christmas, from a jolly uncle or some such, now let's imagine that the next day your uncle came round in a weird mood and kicked the puppy to death. Now imagine he made you watch. Now imagine that instead of one night he left it 16 years for you to grow incredibly attached to the puppy. Now imagine that the puppy was as good as Star Wars. Now imagine that your uncle charged you money to watch him kill the puppy... and then he went around and found all of your pictures of the puppy and added Hayden Fucking Christiansen to all of them... Fuck George Lucas is what I'm driving at here. He gave us one of the greatest gifts of all time just so he could crush it in front of us for his own petty amusement and he got us to pay him for the pleasure of watching him steal joy from the world. Also Jar-Jar Binks... Cunt

Person: The Pope
ReasonPaedophilic Gay-Rape
I can't look at him without
hearing the imperial march

I may have a million and one problems with both the concept of G/god/s and with the overwhelming societal control mechanism that is organised religion but that's not the reason I despise Mr Big Hat. I dislike him because of his involvement in the gay-rape of children. I'm not specifying gay-rape out of any homophobic impulse (gay men actually tend to buy me drinks... making them good people) but rather due to the fact that the Catholic Church is insanely homophobic and yet the priests only ever rape little boys not little girls. The Bible is very clear on homosexuality and yet doesn't mention paedophilia at all... anyway I digress. The man currently sitting in the big chair has been implicated in the cover-up of this despicable practice and as I have stated previously the only reason to cover this shit up and that's because you like it. I'm not saying that the Pope fucks kids... but he definitely does.

Person: Michelle Bachmann
Reason: Rampant Homophobia
Unlike Palin I wouldn't even
rape this bitch to prove a point

If you were to look up 'complete and total cunt' in the dictionary you wouldn't find a picture of Michelle Bachmann because that's not how dictionaries work. I was originally going to go with Sarah Palin, but she's to stupid to properly hate. Bachmann combines the same hateful and spiteful rhetoric as Palin with a considerable amount of political nous making her a much greater threat. In addition to this she is married to a man who runs a camp that takes confused teenagers and makes them 'pray the gay away'. She met this man and instead of recoiling in abject horror at the, borderline retarded, hatred that this man's rotting husk played host to she found that he fired her engine. The pair are the most hateful couple since Adolf and Eva. Anyone who defines their life through mindless hatred and persecution needs to be taken into a back room and be killed with hammers for the good of humanity.

Person: Chad Kroeger
Reason: Everything
If you don't want to punch
this guy on sight then your
eyes don't work properly.
Ever since the demon-spawn Chad and his vile henchmen formed the group Nickelback he has been waging a one man war on good musical taste. The apex of this shit mountain was a track entitled 'How You Remind Me'. This song actually marks the low-point of human creative achievement. If you locked me in a room with this track playing on loop, no way to shut it off and a drill I would point the drill into my temple within the hour. The low level evil this twat-faced purveyor of sin in sound form, I won't call it music, has visited upon the world is a greater evil than almost anything on this list. This song still gets played on the radio, the small increments of negative emotion he slowly emits into the world has probably led to more evil and harm than you can possibly imagine. He exists purely to add another shit ball on to the pile of crap that is your shitty day. Look I'm a fairly laid back peace and love kind of guy but if I ever meet this guy I'll kill him with a brick... I've spent hours choosing the right brick... sharp edges, rough face and a solid composition. Fuck Chad Kroeger.

Well... I apologise for pouring bile into your face via the internet... as a way of making up for it here is a nice picture.

Now don't say I never do anything nice for you.
eddie <I feel better now>

Sunday, 6 November 2011

A Ran With A Zombie

I recently spent a night in South London being chased by zombies... it was terrifying, but then that's South London for you. It was part of a yearly event called 2.8 hours later. It was in all seriousness one of the best nights out I have ever had. Here is my tale.
Fear has a name, and that name is Bermondsey.
News had reached us that the dead had risen, other than that details were extremely thin on the ground. What we did know was that the Human Resistance had set up an information point in Bermondsey Square. Upon arrival in the area we discovered that news hadn't just reached us but also other survivors of the initial outbreak. Fortunately the Resistance were doing a fantastic job of organising the panicked mob, unfortunately this meant over an hour of queuing, fortunately this meant there was time to pop to Sainsbury's and purchase some beers. One of the benefits of the zomb-o-calypse is that no-one really bothers to maintain standards so it's fine to be drunk. I opted for Stella Artois as it seemed like the best alcohol for fighting, well... anything if we're being honest.
Reassuringly violent
After finally reaching the front of the queue we were told that this area while this area was the last safe-zone it wasn't were the Resistance were based. Unfortunately these brave souls who'd offered to stay behind could only direct us in the direction that the other survivors had gone and not their current location. As soon as we left the safe-zone me, my friend and the band of survivors we'd teamed up with, met a girl who. judging from her emotional state, had been severely zombed at. We attempted to calm her but to no avail. It was clear this girl was going to be of little use, we asked her for any information and left her to her fate, harsh but that's the tough reality of post-outbreak life. After about five minutes walk we spotted our first zombie. He was shuffling about up ahead on the right-hand side of the road. We went the left to skirt round the slow moving chump. We went cautiously. We got level with the shuffling beast when it seemed to catch wind of us. It ran at us. Fear like I have never felt coursed through my veins. We ran. Suddenly there was a second zombie in a doorway to our left. A second burst of speed got us all to safety.
It was almost exactly like this, well... a bit
We continued along unscathed other than a massive fear of corners and doors. At the end of the road, we spy another survivor. He's a cook of some sort armed with a pan. We go we talk to him and he tells us his tale. The outbreak got to him and his family before he knew what was going on. His daughter's sick. She has been bitten. We see her through the window and she spits up blood onto the glass. He's in a state and doesn't know what to do... It falls to me to explain the terrible pragmatics of the situation. He agrees. Before the grim scene can unfold we ask him for help and he points us to the next port of call on our journey. We leave him to take care of his family tragedy and make our way along the road. By now the survivors from other groups are starting to bunch up. This is useful as it makes the zombies unfocussed and easier to slip past unscathed. After dodging a few here and there we find a large group of the uninfected up ahead. People are looking for clues, various crews navigators are comparing notes and checking this is the right place.
In fairness South London's signage leaves much to be desired.
We suddenly become aware of zombies. We head down the road with an eye towards doubling back down another street. Our navigator discovers a route... it involves an alleyway. I take the lead with everyone following a fair distance behind, ready to run if the situation turns. Fortunately it's safe and we get back to the area we need to search. Rumours are circulating among the humans. Some say there is a sign in the area, others that the map co-ordinates are off. Suddenly there is the sound of snarling and footsteps. Panic, confusion some of the herd (for that is what you call a group of prey) scatter. I turn and see a group of survivors laughing heartily... Yes that's right that old chestnut. I can happily confirm that several of that group got bit. I decide to search the back alleys for clues, as I do this I realise I've become that guy I hate in all horror movies. Another of the group decides to join me. The alleyway leads to the courtyard of a complex of flats, which itself leads on to a road where we can see the undead chasing harried groups back and forth. When we reach the road we realise that a simple left turn will bring us back to the group. Before we have time to assess the situation one of them is running straight at us, my companion breaks left I'm forced to retreat. I am now forced to take the alley again, this time alone... Don't shout "Are you a dead?" At strangers in a dark alley in London... it confuses them
Zombies may be fake but rapists are very real... so don't go into
the alleys of South London... seriously fuck South London
It only takes me a few terror filled minutes to rejoin the group but it fells much longer. Each step a new exercise in fear. When I do catch up with the others they have decided to follow some other survivors, they've heard word of a multi-storey car park further along the road. I join them and we soon find another survivor, he says his girlfriend is trapped inside the building and asks for our help. We agree and are deciding on our plan of attack when it happens. I'd noticed the herd behaviour before, but when the noise starts and I look round to see a human stampede it hits me how we've slid down the food-chain. We turn and flee into the parking structure. The first three floors are fine. Then we see one, it's running straight for us. I duck and weave and manage to evade the beast. At this point my heart was pounding. After the third floor we end up huddled in a stairwell. There's clearly movement on the staircase both above and below us.
This is how I remember it... but then I'd had a lot of Stella.
Staying here isn't going to achieve anything and more survivors are heading towards us. We go up... after three flights of stairs and arm reaches down and I only just leap to one side. We burst out into car-park proper once more. Two of them here and yet more creative dodging gets us to the top where we are free to gaze out over the ruined husk of London Town. I realise my friend Sarah isn't with us. I take a moment to think. Every instinct in my body is screaming at me to leave her for dead, however Sarah is the most fun person I know so I decide to go back. I yell at the others to go on ahead, hoping to turn up unscathed later on, like someone always does. I only have to go back down one floor before I find her... but there is a dead in hot pursuit. We escape to the stairwell entrance on the roof but the survivor there is a diabetic and will not let us in unless we get her sweets, these are strewn about the ramp down to the zombie behind us. We retrieve the sweets while the zombie is distracted pursuing a fresh group of survivors. After we get into the staircase we enjoy a brief moment of safety and get back outside. The rest of the group are still checking the map when we get outside, thus ruining the dramatic tension of what I'd hoped to be a triumphant return. However we are missing one of our number. After much umming and arghing we decide to abandon the poor fellow to his fate and move on.
I'm sure he's fine.
We arrive at a church and discover a priest outside chained to the gates, cursing his false god for this situation... one of my all time favourite tropes. There is also wall of missing people posters which really brings home the human tragedy of our current predicament. He's clearly mid-turn but won't help us unless we try to free him. I get round behind him and give his chain a half-hearted tug. He lets out an inhuman yowl. I take a hasty step back and skip out of his reach in a manly fashion with a small shriek. He tells us that his friend is a butcher and has a lock-up. It's the safest place in London... apparently.
My money would have been on the Tower of London, shows what I know.
Some time later we find ourselves at the entrance to a railway arch. After a few of us have entered the dark, dank and dingy man-made cavern. The door slams behind us. We all jump. The butcher is standing there with the remains of a dismembered zombie hanging from chains. He is holding a hefty cleaver, excellent choice of weapon, and tells us to head to 'The Bell' pub. He also tells us to run straight on and not stop. We run, one zombie leaps out from behind a wall, there are screams and the panic in the crowd is palpable. We run into the open air. There are two of them blocking the road ahead. We utterly fail to obey the butchers instructions and run back round towards the entrance of the lock up. Our navigator, Jill, takes a look at the map and points up the road. There's only one of them. It looks like a safe bet. We start on our way along the road. A group of survivors coming the opposite direction give a shout... "There's three." We turn back we can find another route. I come over all fool-hardy and utter a plaintiff cry of "Fuck this!" and decide to run the gauntlet.
Pictured: My delusional self belief.
I walk slowly with another survivor on either side of me. The first zombie on the right moves towards me. I shove the survivor on my right into it's path... Good to know where my moral line in the sand is. The one on my left breaks and runs forward the second zombie runs straight in front me and chases the other survivor down a side road, I run forward but a sideways glance reveals the girl has been ensnared by a fourth zombie... Shit is getting real. It's just me and one other now I use a car as cover and manage to outfox the undead prick. I wait in the relative safety round the final corner and meet another of our group not long after. As well as having a chat with another survivor in a suit who I've seen a few times that night, he is remarkably unscathed for a yuppie. They usually get it early on. After a while the rest of the group arrives from another direction. It's worth noting that by this point that only three of the seven of us remain un-bitten. Myself and Sarah among the lucky trio.
I was Drew Barrymore... because I'd been drinking.
After some further searching we discover the pub we've been searching for. After knocking on the door and waiting for a minute or two the door is opened by a survivor who I instantly take a liking to. First thing she says "Everyone talk!". While waving a pool-cue. Textbook. We go in and the young lady asks if we've seen her boyfriend. We answer "No". She warns us off of the beer garden, where there is 'a bit of a situation'. She asks how we're doing before apologising for the lack of booze. She tells us to look for a homeless guy just up the road. The door leading to the back of the pub slams open. No-one in our group has a fucking clue what came through that door... it opening and we booked. Jill was trampled under foot and left for dead... although she managed to get out unscathed, which is fortunate as by this point she had the only map.
Without her we'd have been like this... except less
confusing towards the end and a lot more watchable.
The homeless guy is enjoying the nights shenanigans as only a man with nothing to lose can enjoy the collapse of society. He is a bright spark and I thoroughly enjoy his company. Laughing like a drain he tells the location of a mad professor and warns us of a zombie hen-do lurking up ahead. He tells us we can trick them. So off we shuffle best zombie moans at the ready, and quoting 'Shaun of The Dead'. The zombie hen-do are strangely attractive  and a little alluring in an unsettling way. I shuffle forward abject terror filling my heart. I'm between two of them no more than a few inches of empty space either side of me... That's when everyone else runs, fucking the illusion entirely, I duck and lunge away from the undead bitches and manage to get away once again untouched. At this point I'd probably pushed my luck as far as I should... and that brings me to what happened next.
Imagine the reds are you getting eaten by horrible fiends
The Mad Professor was indeed mad he was also surrounded by the dead... it's worth noting that he claimed he had a repellent... He did not. He gave us directions to HQ and then the zombies attacked. I went to dive underneath the arms of one them when a shove from behind shoved me into the arms of the scavenging ghoul. I was bitten. I was infected. I'd spilt my beer. This was the worst tragedy ever. I staggered on to HQ and awaited my assessment by the Resistance officials. I was ushered into a room where mine and Sarah's infected status was discovered. We were then ushered up stairs where the change was made complete with the judicious application of make-up and fake blood. Only one of our group had survived unscathed. The Zombie Disco followed and we had a few drinks before having to shuffle off to the tube.
You will be sorely missed old friend
Overall the best night out I've had in a very long time and I thoroughly recommend it to anyone.

eddie <next time I train for it>

Thursday, 3 November 2011

Fuck Charity

I hate charity. I mean seriously, charity is predicated on the assumption that you and I, everyday folk need to reach into our pockets and pull out coinage to stop things like cancer, men beating women and child and animal cruelty. I hate the fact that I live in a fucking world where someone is trying to hoik these problems on to my back. Seriously do I not have enough shit on to deal with, I mean come on, as a tax-payer I'm already footing the bill for important things like making sure bankers can afford champagne and scotch, making sure our elected representatives are fully rested by supplying holidays and of course the vast expenses involved in shipping young men and women overseas to get mercilessly slaughtered. How the fuck am I supposed to do that and spare a penny for the suffering.
Do you want to live in a world where the rich can't
afford to hack the voicemail of teenage murder victims
See this is my entire problem with charity. As a society we've made it very clear where our priorities lay. We have decided that we don't care about cruelty to children, cancer or the dead and dying in other countries. We care about the bottom-line. We care about the monetary value of everything. We as a civilisation have decided that the most important thing in the world is money. The 'Occupy' movement has one central message. That message is this 'We think it's wrong that the top 1% of earners get to control the legislative agenda of the western world'. I know... fucking morons. Don't these people realise that there opinion literally doesn't count. Charity is just another way of trying to get the strong to pay for the weaks way through the world. We were all taught from a very young age that money is the most important thing in the world. You remember the lessons. "Money can buy you happiness". "Money is the most important thing in the world". "If you're not rich you don't matter." We all got taught these things as children. Well as long as the monetary value of selling us as slave labour/organ farms didn't outweigh our parents love for us.
If they're never going to make money from porn, acting or
modelling is there really any point in wasting money raising them
OK, I'm going to turn off the comedy brain for a while and drop into serious mode for a while. I do genuinely hate charity. I hate the fact that as a society we let ourselves get so turned around that the stuff we really care about is the stuff that we have to do voluntarily and the shit we all agree sucks giant hairy mammoth balls we don't even get anything approaching a say in. We work our selves to the bone, everyone in the world does, and whales aren't any closer to being saved, gay rights aren't universal and cancer and aids are still horrifying diseases. The reason for this is because the stuff we actually care about never gets a look in at elections. No polls ever ask whether we'd vote for a candidate that promised a cure to all disease, a chance to live off-world or to move every single species off of the endangered species list. They ask about exactly how much we hate bankers (a lot), how much we want to get killed by terrorists (not a lot) and how much we trust Nick Clegg (seriously fuck that guy) because that shit wins elections when it's all either of the candidates have chosen to focus on.
Seriously... just fuck this guy.
I want to live in a world where the idea of charity existing is ludicrous. If you have to go out to members of the public cap in hand and beg for money I want it to be for something frivolous and pointless because the shit we're currently asked to reach into our pockets for is the kind of shit that we should be covering without having to be asked. If the army wants to drop a bunch of young, innocent men and women into the jaws of death... well you know what, fuck having a fucking vote, fuck the politicians and fuck letting some fat faggot in charge of deciding how the rich want poor peoples money spent dropping on his knees sucking dick and deciding exactly were our people should die based on the principle of doing what the fuck he's told. Let's stop funding the military let's plough all this income into shit that would improve the lives of everyone around us. Your banks going under, then you take to the streets and convince me to give you the hard-earned coins from my pocket, don't just assume that you can reach in an purloin it.
Wow... I found someone more hateful than Clegg... I didn't know
that was possible outside of child killers and Nickelback.
The fact that charity exists at all is merely proof that at some point the human race decided that security was more important than morality without for a single moment focussing on whether or not we were worthy of security if we made that decision.
This, and training someone to use it, is worth about 20 cancer victims.
I'm going to finish up tonight by repeating what the 'Occupy' movement stands for...

The fact that the top 1% of earners use their wealth and
influence to control the legislative agenda is wrong.

If you don't agree with this and you aren't in the top 1% 
then you've just admitted that your opinion is worthless.

eddie <there's a reason we don't have the society we want>

Tuesday, 1 November 2011

Who Am I?

“I'm just leaving the museum in the safe hands of the cops I rescued earlier when a shot rings out in the night. I access the computer and use the telemetry I've built up of the facility to triangulate the location of the shooter. The seconds race by, all of this takes time, time I don't have. Finally my terminal feeds me the results and I'm off all thoughts of stealth are put to one side this Is to important, I can't let another one die I promised my self that years ago. I arrive to late, the man is dead, who he was and why he was shot are questions I don't have time for right now... his killer is still on the loose. I survey the scene and discover the bullet lodged in a concrete traffic barrier, the angle of entry leads me to the shooters location... he shot through a water tower. That means high end weaponry and high end targeting. That means Deadshot. That's his second victim tonight I won't let there be a third. He may be the world's greatest assassin but I'm the Batman”

Batman: Arkham City isn't a game it's a fucking Batman simulator. If that's not something that interests you then I'm fairly certain that you're not allowed on the internet, don't worry a call has been lodged with the relevant authorities and a team will be despatched to revoke your papers with all alacrity... Now that those losers have been dragged kicking and screaming away from the internet. The rest of us can talk, now I'm that by know you've read a million and one articles on the internet by know that have the theme of “Holy fucking shit-balls, have you played Batman?”... but seriously holy fucking shit-balls have you played Batman yet? To call this game good is to miss the point. This game allows you to be Batman, and it does it well... really fucking well. I could waffle on about the graphics, awesome, or the combat, free-flowing violent ballet, or even the movement mechanics, flying through the city like winged terror but the true joy of the game lies in the immersion. This game, like all great games, draws you in, in a way that no other media can. In a film I feel for Batman. In a comic-book I can feel for Batman. In a game... I'm Batman.

“I hear the cry for help from below as I'm making my way back towards the Steel Mill to finish my business with the Joker. Some punk is roughing up one of the other prisoners. I climb slowly down the alley watching the scene unfold. I'm assessing the situation. I can think of a whole bunch ways to deal with the situation. I could glide down and kick the guy in the face. I can drop from above and crash him into the ground. I could grapple the thug away from his victim, I can bat-a-rang him, I can freeze him, I can put explosive gel on his back... decisions, decisions, decisions. Suddenly it hits me. I land gently next to him and I wait, he steps back to strike and he catches a glimpse of me. He pauses he can't decide whether to run of fight, I stay still. He swings for me... wrong choice. Less than a second later he's writhing on the ground in pain before passing out. I leave before the man I saved has time to thank me.”

Where a Batman film has to remain focussed on one or two villains in order to not end up as a huge confusing mish-mash. The job of a game on the other hand is to allow you to inhabit a universe and the best way to do that is by presenting you with as much of that world as possible. The first Arkham game... I think that's what we're going to have to call this series without the convenient numbering system that many other games use... used an ingenious system of setting the game in the Asylum that every single Batman villain has at some point inhabited. Arkham City had the difficult job of expanding the concept without being able to build the entirety of Gotham in incredible detail... the solution, bigger prison. Hey, if it ain't broke don't fix it. In a moment of madness it seems that the city of Gotham, in the worst planning decision since Fred West won the contract to repave Gloucester High Street, allowed Dr Hugo Strange to put a massive wall up around the a section of the city and turn it into a prison... Now it's not fully explained why Bruce Wayne didn't just buy large sections on the planned site and refuse to sell to the city is not made clear... also if this is a private endeavour, which it clearly is why didn't he just win the contract. Probably because both those options involve a limited amount of Batmannary, and if being Batman is half as fun as this game makes it seem, then you know what I fully understand.

“As I stare down from the peak of tower, with flames swirling above me I glare at the city below me still crying out for a saviour. I see thousands of people, a seething, swirling morass of man-kinds baser instincts. I see a city in pain. I am ready to be the cure. Who am I? I'm Batman”

eddie <humming the batman theme constantly>