Still Reading Chance In Hell?

No? Well... I know that the web crawlers are. But you should head on over to EngineeredinReverse.blogspot.com . It's going to be more Mac related than anything else. Think of it like a hub for my fledgling development career. Hopefully it will go somewhere.

Vitamin Water Helps Build Immunity To Arsenic...*

... By feeding you trace amounts of it!

So I've opened up a store in my dorm room out of my room mate's mini fridge. Every so often I go into town, to the CVS, and buy items that are on sale in bulk quantities, and then take them back to campus to sell. Aparently there's a huge market for this sort of thing. It's very entrepreneurial of me, really, except for the tiny detail that I sell at cost. I just don't have the heart to overcharge.

Last week at CVS, they had a sale on Glaceau Vitamin Water. Now I know it's supposed to be very hip and trendy back in NYC, not to mention perfect for slipping shots of vodka into at supervised birthday parties, so I figured I'd give it a shot in my store. My room mates don't drink, but I figured they might enjoy the healthy benefits.

But when I tried to push it on them, it was met with distrust and suspicious. It was just too chic to be taken at face value. So, being the dutiful salesman that I am, I checked the list of ingredients.

There's some standard ascorbic acid, for vitamin C, reverse osmosis water, which is really just a fancy way of saying someone pumped it through a filter, a handful of electrolytes, and chromium polynicotinate, which sounds a lot scarier than it actually is.
No High Fructose Corn Syrup. So far so good.

But wait? What's Crystalline Fructose? Is that similar? So I hit up my good friend Wikipedia and he gives me the lowdown.

If you didn't click the link, let me summarize it for you. Crystalline Fructose is made by letting Fructose-Enriched Corn Syrup crystallize. Is that the same as High Fructose Corn Syrup? Nooo, because it's only Fructose-Enriched... Well, putting those differences-or lack thereof-aside, let's give it the benefit of the doubt by saying maybe it's better for you?

Let me get to the next point of the entry.

It contains Arsenic. Now it doesn't matter how little arsenic there is in each bottle of Vitamin Water, I think the irony is enough to stand on it's own two legs. Vitamin Water contains vitamins... and poison! Now, if they actually make good on the title of this post, and were to market it as such, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea after all.

*Entirely made up by me, but everything else above is true.

EDIT: There is also Lead and other heavy metals in Vitamin Water.

Oh That's Rich!

IGN: The Lust List: 10/16/06 If you're an xbox 360 fan, click the link. Actually, if you're a Halo fan, click the link. Better yet, if you are even remotely aware that there is indeed a big black console with a big X on it, and there may or may not have been a game on it that did kind of well, click the link.

I'm gonna give you a few ellipses to think about what you see.

...

...

...

There? All set? You probably didn't notice anything. But if you think like I do, you'll notice that the Halo 3 is Tied for last on the IGN Lust list with Super Monkey Ball: Banana Blitz! That's right, Master Chief is splitting ends with chimps in balls.

I think I've accomplished what I came for.

Lukas: out!
Long live Wii, I've poisoned your wine!

Kate Winslet, get out of my life!

I appreciate what you do. Really, I do. Expecially as an actor, I most definately admire the range of your success and acting ability. But as a regular entertainment monger, I have to say you are beyond obnoxious. And it's not really you, it's just that damn American Express commercial. I learned today that everytime a commercial airs, the primary actors recieve money, and even if it's just a quarter of a penny, it adds up quickly. If that's the case, you must be filthy rich, because, literally, every single time I turn on the TV, I see you dissapearing behind a vam, or thinking of drowning yourself, or reading Pride and Prejeduce. Is that what you're trying to say? Because if you keep this up, I may be prejeduced against your credit card company. There are somthing's money can't buy. Remember that. Remember that.

I just got a New Xbox.

Of course, an Xbox is not an unfamiliar item in my house. I've had borrowed Xboxes, Broken Xboxes, Shared Xboxes, Refurbished Xboxes, and now another. What I'm about to disclose to you is, however, going to be entirely new. My Dad is better than I am at X-Men Legends.

I'd always seen the gaming instinct in my Dad, something my mother has tried desperately to keep hidden for as long as a console has been in the house. But I was always aware of the strange curiosity my Dad had for the latest generation of entertainment. It was only recently, with the Dual Christening of a second hand Xbox and Copy of X-Men Legends II, that I made a large step in capitalizing on my Dads interest. Little did I know that I would soon after be the subject of vast humiliation.

I died as Storm, Cyclops, and Iceman before my Dad fell as Wolverine. He was the final stand against the forces of Apocalypse. But instead of feeling the shame I expected, this new potential elated me. I've always been a firm believer in the idea that Video Games are for everyone and not just socially inept teenage boys.

Imagine a world where Grownups and Children sit on the couch and think to themselves: Ok, it's Family Game Night! Little Billy wants to play an Action Game. Father Tom played his Football game last night, but Mother hasn't chosen in weeks. She wants something with a bit more depth, so she decides to Chose the latest Final Fantasy Chapter.

Although the vision provides an ideal, it also develops a problem. As of now, there are no real multiplayer games with depth that all playable characters can feel. Maybe a game like Resident Evil: Outbreak, without the zombies, would be perfect for the situation.

There is the challenge. Mothers. You all know they're against video games. Yeah, I cans see how my statement might offend, but from my experience, it's true. I have yet to find a game that interests my Mother. In order to interest my mother's demographic, we're gonna have to make some serious romance games. And I'm not talking INdigo Prophecy sub-stories, I'm talking straight up Regency: The Stallion Inside. That stuff deserves a rating of AO.

Ah, you sly dogs!

I never thought it possible that my hit counter would ever exceed 100. To prove my own theory, I blocked myself from making any hits on my own website, and let my little baby loose. But to my surprise, I watched my hit counter slowly approach, the high eighties, and then creep into the nineties. Surely it would slow down? But now! I was shocked to discover that my own little numbered box had snuck right by me with the big 1-0-0 and serve me a whopping 138 hits! Oh my devoted web surfers and spam-bots, you've inspired me to consider dreaming about posting like never before, and possibly provide some legitimate content for you all! If I can give you any outlook on any future posts, it is this. Macworld is just around the corner...

My Lve Affair Wth A Razr

Ok, so you've read the headline. What are you thoughts now? Oh no, Lukas is quoting, or worse yet, writing, crappy emo songs! Well, apart from admitting that I do sometimes do the latter, I have not just left the bathroom with bleeding wrists, but have rather gotten a new phone. Yes, you've read correctly. Not to worry, I'm still your old fashioned Lukas, I haven't joined any fashion societies or been accepted into any crowds commonly referred to as 'hip'. I've simply acquired, for Christmas, a Razr cell phone. If you're a close friend of mine, you've already heard me rant about the 'Razr' but if you're an a Forest Ranger looking for inquisitive Blogs to comment on, you definitely haven't. The deal is this: Up until 12/25/05, I hated the Razr's guts. My top complaint, is, of course, that Motorola is, apparently, too cool for Vowels. It seems that Vowels are only allowed into the Motorola family on certain occasions. You'd think that with three Os in their name, they could include them in the name of the phone. It could have just has easily been the Rzor, or even play fair and just call it the Rzr. You know, make all the Vowels feel equal. Motorola, seemed to realize it's error, and gave the O a place in it's new phone: The Rokkr. But what about that E? I'm sure he's feeling a bit left out too. I think, on behalf of vowels everywhere? That an organized strike is an order against Motorola, here on referred to as Mtrl. You see how feeble they are without their vowels? This, my friends, is a perfect example of passive resistance. But, my problems with the Rzr didn't end there. It's thin. It's ridiculously thin. I'm talking anorexic thin. I'm sure the people at Mtrl weren't thinking that though, because the 'Anorxc' doesn't exactly flow to well. No, they were obviously thinking about a 'razor' while designing the phone, which is almost as ridiculous. Heck, I could shave with this thing. Right when this phone came out, I had a dream about it. The way it was set up, my family was captured and held hostage by the man trying to take over the world. He was, you know, the usual evil super-powered villain. And as I was, of course, the last line of resistance, I was being lectured and told his final evil plan. I was tied up in front of him, completely helpless as he began the final motions of world domination. But, meanwhile off in the other end of the room, my friend John is being forcibly carried off by evil henchmen. In his final moments in the room, John reached into his pocket, pulled out the Rzr, and through it to me. I caught it with my hand behind my back, slashed the bonds, and whirled around, throwing the Rzr right into the Evil Super-Villain's neck. Yes, I saved the world with a Rzr. These things are not natural. What happened to the days of big, bulky, useless cell-phones? Don't answer that. Because, yes, as the title of this entry suggests, despite everything I've mentioned above, this phone has wood my heart.

The Best Party You Never Went To

I was absolutely amazed at the turnout to the party, and even more impressed by the sheer number of people who were sorry that they couldn't make it. Of course, I did come across people who were 'too busy that night' to come, or were 'being grounded', and I can't really count them in the numbers. I'm just really pleased that people actually came up to me, asking how it was. Well, normally I wouldn't post anything of this sort here, but because this kind of thing deserves a followup, here goes it:

I actually didn't manage to make it to the actual party. I was up at a friends house when the dream party was supposed to start, so I took a few minutes to go to sleep and open the ballroom. I was able to create the snow and the stage-lights quite easily, and their was a surprising amount of masks readily available. Making the tree and the Bar, with bartender, was a little taxing, so I skipped creating the waterfall and just took that out of a nearby dream. Unfortunately, I accidentally got some debris in the process but I tucked it put of sight. I then created my intoxicated monkey, and entrusted him with the task of keeping the dream alive until I could get home and sleep in my own bed. As I faded into consciousness, I could already see people drifting accidentally through my dream as my monkey furiously checked the guest list.
But when I got home my parents were watching a movie, the ambiguous noises creeping into the hallway where I sleep. Even after shutting the door to the den, I couldn't quite make it to sleep. I kept the image secure in my mind, and, slowly, I drifted into the ballroom. Almost as soon as I had floated through the silver drapery, there was some form of explosion from the den and I was rudely woken again. As valiantly as I tried to tie myself into the dream, from that point on, I could only manage to make it partially before being roused by sharp sounds. There were people in the party, that was for sure. I would be able to squeeze parts of me into the ballroom, only to be whisked away. The guests could see me every time I appeared, and I could hear them try to make contact. But I wasn't enough in the dream to truly make the connection.
By the time my Mom had finished watching the movie, I had been lost in the dream realm, and though lucid, I was no longer dreaming of the ballroom. As we reached morning, I finally managed to enter the ballroom, only to discover it was falling to pieces. As the party had ended shortly before I arrived, other dreams were now taking bits and pieces of the ballroom as needed. I sat down in small circle of friends, only a fraction of the people initially there. The dream had seemed to vary slightly for each of us, and we each called out joyously and slapped each-others hands when we came across aspects of our dreams that linked up with each other. I, for instance, at one point found myself exploring a huge aztec playground in the snow, which had accidentally been siphoned from someone else's dream. Along with the apparition of several hundred stacked boxcars, a few parents who had somehow found the party arrived to break it up, but we laughed at them because we knew it was just a dream, and it was over anyway.

That's about it for my dream experience, and feel free to leave your own in the comments.

There's a party in my dreams and you're invited:

A short time ago, I found myself asleep, but walking through other people’s dreams. When I woke, something struck me as odd about the dream. It wasn’t regular sleep, but something much greater. I questioned the people involved in my dreams and found out that my series of events matched up with those individual’s own dreams. I began to think that if this was possible, maybe it could be feasible to mix many singular dreams together consciously. And so started my Dream Party. The way I look at it, if each of you opens up your mind on one night, to the same exact place, maybe, just maybe, something extraordinary might happen.

Before you read any further, you have to understand something. As much as you may want to come and enjoy yourself, you are going to have to deal with repercussions. Although your parents will never find out you got drunk out of your mind right under their very noses, you yourself are going to have to deal with the fact that whatever transpired in your dreams may have actually happened. If you feel, at all, like the experience of having other people in your mind is too violating of an event, you’re strongly discouraged from participating. When you wake up tomorrow, it’s going to be essential that you record anything you remember from your slumber immediately, simply so we can determine if anything actually existed.
If you choose to attend, please be willing to share the dream in your own mind, and simply not inhabit my own. That way, not only does the dream have a higher chance of actually occurring, but also hosting all those people won’t bog down my mind. Hopefully, this way, you won’t end up driving me into a coma.

Location: The Fauset Family Ballroom
Between the Hours of: 10pm, 11/23/05 – 7am, 11/24/05

The dark red walls shimmer with a luminescent silver drapery, the product of the fabric of our dreams being woven together. Hovering in the air underneath a ceiling swirling with changing shades of blue, which whip round and round in response to the movement of the people on the floor, silver stage lights illuminate the masks suspended near the walls. Spangled with bells and splashes of colors, the masks smile as the attendees enter into the dream through the rippling walls. A carpet of warm snow covers the wooden floor, and the snow banks up against the walls naturally form the shape of low couches. In the far end of the ballroom, an ice statue of a bartender stands behind a counter, bottles of fine liquors carefully arranged behind him. Suddenly, it springs to life and pulls an icicle off from under the bar. Hollow on the inside, he fills it with an amber spirit and hands it to a passerby, chilling the contents with his finger. In the center of the room, spinning merrily on its roots, a weeping willow offers it’s branches to the people who sit under the canopy. Crystallized with the potency of marijuana, the twigs themselves are ready to be consumed. Gathered around the base of the tree, patches of mushrooms sprout up from the ground. Their golden glow suggests their mind-bending effects, and the small monkey in the tree is happily entranced by a tiny nibble. A waterfall in the corner of the ballroom cascades down from the ceiling only to vanish moments before hitting the ground, but continues to emit vibrant music throughout the area. Beyond the waterfall lies a dimly illuminated cavern, equipped with a dance floor, glowing with a soft gold light. Back outside of the waterfall, you are in the ballroom.

Before you go to sleep, read this over a few times. Think about it a little. What do you want it to be like? What do you want to happen? This is, after all, your dream. It’s our time to create a world in which anything is possible. Have fun, enjoy yourself, and don’t hesitate to drop by again.

With all that being said, whatever happens in our dreams stays in our dreams.

I've got another confession to make

I don't get the YTMND craze. It just doesn't really do it for me. With that being said, I need to pull a Kosar and link you all up to one of the funniest things I've seen on the internet in a long time.
Warning. DO NOT CLICK unless you have read the 6th Harry Potter book.

Harry Potter and the Failed Expectations

Fortunately for you, however, it was I who failed you, and not the movie. I had said I was going to scoop the NYT and I was wrong. Instead of putting out their usual thursday review online, and in the paper the next day, they must have caught wind of my review and done one better. Because I'm now lacking a ton of motivation, you're about to receive a pretty half baked review. In fact, you may not receive one after all. I know perfectly well no one is going to read this tonight, or tomorrow, or even throughout the week. I'm just going to say it was pretty good, and I'll fill you all in later on in the coming week.

This Post Has Little Purpose

I'm simply posting to generate some anticipation amongst my imaginary fan-base. Tomorrow night I will be lucky enough to attend an early screening of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. It is my word to get a review up tomorrow night before the New York Times. Now go! Wait with bated breath!

So I'm playing on my Xbox...

and my Dad shouts into the room "Lukas, dinner's served." I tell him I'm coming and pause my game. When I walk into the kitchen I see nothing on the table but a big tub of popcorn with my parents and sister gathered around it. C'mon, How awesome is that?

Word Maintenence

Did you ever notice how when people answer the door, they say "who is it"? Why, exactly, is it necessary to speak in the third person? No one ever asks "who are you?", they just like to pretend they're an actual speaker in the wall, and not someone behind it. I'm just as surprised people don't get mad. Have you ever heard a mother freak out because you ask what "is its name?" Nah, I think the first person is a much easier tense to work with.

Smile, you're on Candidacy Camera.

Imagine this. It's today's date, except the year is 2008. George W. Bush is near the end of his final term in office, and you are two days away from electing the next President of the United States of America. You've just finished dinner and you sit down with your family to watch the annual battle of the candidates. But instead of the usual podiums with the two representatives of the political parties under a barrage of questions, your eyes are greeted with a different scene. The oval office appears on screen, this time without it's usual glamour. And instead of George W. Bush sitting in his chair, or doing whatever it is he claims to be doing, we see one of our candidates deep in thought. The little scrolling bar at the bottom of the screen says the feed is live. No, Candidate #1 has not decided to take the White House by force, he's simply in the next generation of presidential elections. The oval office we see is actually one of two different offices being filmed by secret cameras positioned all around the room, constantly switching to give the audience an uninhibited view of the two coandadites, each sperated from each other and undertaking the tasks that show what they themselves can do as president. What do I mean by that? The scrolling bar flashes at the bottom of the screen, and begins to explain a scenario. In a surprising move, Canada has decided to wage a full frontal war on America! Paid actors run in to tell this potential president the news. Based on his actions, a computer will determine the outcome of this stressful battle for life and liberty. Which president will setup a press conference? Which will fight back? Create a peaceful outcome? These are all things we will be able to see in the actual candidates themselves, as opposed to their cabinet. Or maybe Candidate #2 is being held hostage by a terrorist organization. How will he be able to save his life? Will he talk himself out? At the expense of the country? Or will he pay the ultimate price? These are just a few of the ways we will be able to see what stuff the candidates are truly made of, on Candidacy Camera TV.

It's an Epidemic

Apparently, a new problem seems to sweeping the nation. Have you ever been sitting at your computer, just like now, and think to yourself; 'Man, I should move my foot because it's feeling kind of uncomfortable'? Have you ever been in a situation where you need to move your feet in order to stay comfortable? Have you ever been plagued by any itch on the sides of your legs? You may have RLS, commonly known as Restless Leg Syndrome. But now, there's a solution. Thanks to Requip, your days of having you cross your ankles every so often are over, so you can have a comfortable sitting experience.

Go see saw, but you won't find it at a playground.

The New York Metro review of Saw II gives it an R rating of it's own, defined by the second clause: Not for Children. I really couldn't agree more. When my mom bought me the ticket to see it, she brought my four year old sister. The ticket seller was entirely shocked to think that a mother would let a four year old see the movie, and she was absolutely right in thinking so. This new installment of Saw contained even more blood shed and life or death puzzles then the first, and the ante on every aspect of the movie has seemed to be raised. Instead of two people in a room it was eight, shortly expanding to encompass an entire house with enough death traps to leave no one left out. Change seems to be the overall theme of the movie in general, and nothing seems to have been left untouched. Even the signature element of time has been altered for the movie, and instead of one huge twist at the end, you can expect several throughout the movie. Even the director has been changed this time around, although he does an excellent job of covering that up, especially after the first fifteen minutes. He retains the same distorted cinematography too, fully completing the Saw experience. The 'Saw Experience' itself, isn't really a scary one. It's accomplishments are in the tension designed by the puzzles, and the sense of impending doom. I can only think of one actually scary moment from the first one, and there were no cheap thrills. This second time around, there was only one large thrill, and one tiny cheap scare. Whether that tiny cheap scare is a fault or not, I cannot decide because I might be more at blame for being so tense then the director for trying to scare me. But in general, I'd say a thrill is cheap when It turns out to be something not scary at all.
The acting is on par for a horror movie, although all actors do an excellent job staying away from the realm of cheesy. There is one exception in the case of John 'Jigsaw', who does an excellent performance. Played by Tobin Bell, my man from '24' gives a chilling representation of our cancer patient gone wrong.
Ultimately, the movie is for fans of the first movie, and above that, for people who have seen the first movie. In fact, if you haven't seen the first one, and I catch you anywhere near the movie theatre, I'll dangle you upside down from a room with no way to escape but to climb up to the ceiling and unscrew the shackle, which would then drop you the twenty feet onto the hot coals below.

My Life Is Digital.

A few weekends ago, I had the opportunity to go to the DigitalLife convention in the Javits Convention Center, and explore the large ranges of technological advancement. Not only at this convention was I allowed to play some games, which will not officially see the light of day for weeks to come, but I had the opportunity to get my hands upon the Xbox 360.

Walking into the center was like entering a different city. Towering advertisements streamed through the air as orange giants, brandishing the Cingular banner, stood ready to crush all children who dared to voyage near. (A possible metaphor to how they tramped all over AT&T.) I nearly had a seizure walking into the main area. Thousands of screens glared straight at me, different images and sounds washing over my face. Nearly two hundred playable Xboxes, PS2s, Gamecubes, PSPs, DSes, and computers stood at my right, each with different games, ranging from the older games such as God of War and Halo, to unreleased games like Spartan: Total Warrior, and the far off, yet hugely anticipated, King Kong.
Directly ahead of me, a huge war battled on different terrains. On a gigantic screen composed of four already enormous screens, genetically altered superhuman battled it out amongst them selves and the covenant, while off to the side, 16 terrorists defended their HQ from an onslaught of specially trained counter terrorists.
But on my left was my immediate attraction. Displayed by projection onto a white screen, I saw the already recognizable image of the Xbox 360 Dashboard. Now I won't bore you with the technical details like Microsoft did to the audience, but they proceeded to tell us absolutely everything I already knew about the Xbox 360, with the exception being that the actual console was less then ten feet away from me.
I'd already seen their press conference online so I already new how their speech was going to go, including their absurdly dick moves towards Apple and Sony which involve plugging in both the PSP and the iPod into the machine. But, what I wasn't prepared for was their personal attack towards me. At one point, with the iPod Nano plugged in, Big BIll (Or whatever his name was) pulled up their playlist, and put on The Fallen, by Franz Ferdinand. Now, I can deal with the Xbox being compatible with the iPod, and to some extent with the PSP. But, having rooted for the downfall of the 360 since they faked their consumer survey and released the name, this was a personal blow. Sure, it was a change from Monotonous B.I.G. they were playing before, but I could barely stand to watch as Franz Ferdinand was pulled to the dark side.
After the Dashboard demonstration, Big Bill decided to demonstrate the first of the new wave of High Definition Gaming, of which I have posted a screenshot:



That's right, the Xbox 360 will be capable of producing Joust in 16 bit, HD quality graphics! Hell yeah Microsoft! You guys just secured your dominance on the next Console War!
I thought it was about time for Microsoft trying to impress us with the 'Xbox Arcade', where you can buy a game for $10, instead of playing it for free online, and bring out the big guns. Apparently, Microsoft thought so too, because they proceeded to pop in Kameo: Elements of Power. Graphically, it looked as if it was a PS2 game with improved talking animations. But in power, I admit to being partially impressed. It's true, even though they were off in the distance, there were about 100 dragons flying independently in the sky. PGR3, however, made the graphical power of the Xbox 360 pretty apparent. It looked pretty damn good. But then again, it is a track race, and I noticed textures were lacking on a few surfaces. That was pretty much all they were willing to show us, and, instead of letting us play an actual game, they had us just mess around with the controller. It got passed to me and I messed around with it for a little. It does feel solid, but I wouldn't feel good dropping it. Not only would the battery instantly fly out, but I'm sure it would dent up and pop open pretty easy. That was it for then, and I made my way onward.

I spent a round in Star Wars Battlefront II, which, I have to say, was an extraordinary amount of fun. It retains the same game-play elements, but drastically quickens the pace, which is a change I was grateful to observe. The biggest addition I got to witness was the insertion of a Jedi into the field. I was playing on the imperial side, and it was quite impressive to see my comrades backing up as fast as they could, only to get slaughtered by a merciless Jedi. These tide-turners spawn once a match, and the only thing more thrilling than watching Luke smash his way through our defenses was when I blew him to bits seconds later with my Rocket Launcher. Being the only competent member of the Imperial forces, we still lost, although my slaying of Luke did help to even out the match. Lucasarts seems to have adopted a strategy similar to Burger King. Star Wars: Have It Your Way.

One of the highlights of the show came in my chance to play the as of now unreleased Guitar Hero. As time was running out, I figured I would only have one shot at playing. So I boosted the difficulty up to Medium, and started rocking out to Take Me Out, which in in the third level of difficulty book, on top of the medium preset. I knew I could have gone for an easier level and completely beaten the blahbelshnaps out of any record, the sight of seeing the six year old ahead of sail through Ironman combined with my frustration with Microsoft for having abused Franz Ferdinand before hand led me to pick up the plastic guitar. Biting of way more then I could chew, however, led me to put the guitar back down 80% through the song. And yet, the man at the Kiosk was noticeably impressed with my performance, and refused to believe that it was my first time playing. Later, he would approach me on the street and shake my hand, telling me how awed he was by my effort and near succession on that level. We would then nod solemnly and disappear into the mist, telling me we would meet again- at another convention... Yes. Nerds Unite!

But I promised I'd get my hands on the actual 360, didn't I? You see, I found, in the back of the convention, an empty looking kiosk, with an Xbox 360 hooked up to a small TV. I watched the climatic battle of some Tech Demo, and then when it began to start over again, I looked around surreptitiously and, thinking I was good to go, pushed the eject button. The dashboard opened up mid demo, and the movie disappeared from sight as the tray opened with a satisfying hiss. Instantly, the entire monitor turned off and a representative swooped down upon me. Apparently, not only can the Xbox 360 play games, but it can also call down the wrath of the gods. I was lucky to make it out with my life, man!

That's about it for my exciting day, and now that I've finally got this post out of the way I can move on to bigger and better things. I think I'll end this post with a nice quote I overheard during the Xbox 360 demonstration.

"For the final shirt, who can tell me how many wireless controllers the Xbox 360 supports?"
"Seven! Oh wait, no. That's the PS3!"

Go Nintendo! Go Nintendo...

Go away. Listen, guys, I have a lot of respect for Nintendo, I really do. I know I never bought any of your systems except the Gameboy Color, but I really admire your video game contributions. I know you must be feeling really pressured by the market, and that you've become forced by your image to be innovative. I can understand that the PSP is looming eerily over your sales, and I know how it must feel to think that that little machine is nearly as powerful as your own main console, but I can't help feeling that you need to give the PSP some room to takeover.

Maybe I'm asking a little too much.
Maybe I'm just praying too much for the success of the PS3.
But for Blahbelshnaps, why are you providing wireless gaming in a Burger King?!

P.S. Full Coverage of the 2005 Digital Life Convention is coming soon, in which yours truly goes hands-on with the XBOX 360!

Digitally Restored by George Lucas

In an earlier post, I expressed the failure of me to get my update up before I left for camp, and the failure of my carefully designed snail-mail system to post my update after I arrived at camp. But now, after having finally retrieved my letters from Nicky's house, I'm free to display my letter in it's Digitally Restored form:

I was standing by the refrigerator in our dormitory when my friend Will, playing Ping-Pong, just flipped out. I mean, he totally snapped and started stripping, twirling his shirt around his head as he dashed from the room. He just lost it all of a sudden... A few minutes later he approached us and reported that his stray Ping-Pong ball had hit a wasp, which chased him away. I decided to write that up for all the fans of Brian Regan who would get the reference, but it's a true story.
Though still at camp, this college party lifestyle is a bit impressive. I was writing this, in a circle of couches around a TV (or example) when that same Will crept up to my friend Steak-yes, Steak-with a bottle of shaving cream as he slumbered. Fortunately for Steak, he awoke in time to thwart Will's plans. It seems most plans fail for better or for worse though, as last night, gathered around a bonfire, my friend Tim tried to light a flaming T on his chest using bug spray and a burning log. So this is what people in Maine do...
It has been weeks since this occurred, but I'd like to take this as an opportunity to write about my experience on the boat while it's still fresh in my mind:
Entering the Annapolis Ship's Preservation guild headquarters, disguised as members, I was astonished to discover my fellow ship lovers to be elderly men with wooden legs from WWII and more weight then the buffet table we were immediately confronted with. I figured that I should have expected no less, and sat down with my Aunt Rebecca and my Dad, who would be on board with me, and the two of my Dad's friends who drove us down to Annapolis.
After eating an excellent Eggs Benedict, I felt much better about my crew situation... And then the captain stood up. A relatively young man in his early forties, Rigel began a timid speech which ended in wild applause and vehement bellowing. Although I do remember a lot of the speech, I'll sum it up in one fairly accurate sentence: "If your family are all murdered by a pack of wild geese, and their remains are eaten by your pet, which soon dies of food poisoning, while your house is blown up in a gas explosion, you lose your money and dignity in a lawsuit against suspected insurance fraud, you're forced to sell your body on the street to feed your newfound heroin addiction, you can rest in the knowledge that your only purpose in the life is to serve the greatest ship ever built, The Gazela Primeiro." We were going on the Gazela Primeiro, and, needless to say, Rebecca and I were terrified for our lives. There's something you need to know before I continue. Rebecca is only six months older than I. That stumps quite a few people, and I won't bother to explain. Most people don't under-stand the principles of the Space Tim Continuum anyway. And, at this very moment, Rebecca was ready to run full throttle out the door and not stop until she was back in NY.
Presently, the large old men left the room, and I was left with the real crew, which was composed of, to my relief, ex-hippies, crazy middle-aged women, and one 15 year old girl named Jenny. Soon, we were water taxied out to the Gazela, and the fun began. Working the ship environment has to be one of the most interesting, exciting, and thrilling things I've ever done. We didn't even start motoring until the next day, we didn't even use our sails, despite our three masts, but every second out on the middle of the bay, the sense of the water controlling and owning you redefined my life to the point where land seemed foreign.
But don't think it was all fun and games, for as soon as night fell, it became an entirely different experience. We spent most of the day going over and through the various emergency procedures. (Man over board, Fire, and Abandon Ship.) We managed to complete each one successfully, although our milk carton, serving as a man, drunk a lot of water in the rescue process. But as dinner led to jumping off the galley into the water below, daytime soon led to night. (Galley to water was a 17 foot drop, by the way.)
As darkness fell over the water and Rebecca, Jenny, a few ex-hippies and myself swam now in the glow of stadium lights, off the distant shore. And inside the boat, nothing was natural after lights out. Creeping around in the bottom of the boat, my guides were the soft glows of red lights.
I slept in the bottom of a triple bunk, closed in entirely by walls on three sides and a blue curtain, with about two feet of vertical room. Or at least, tried to sleep. I actually managed to get very little sleep. Amongst the smoldering heat and cramped confinement, I wasted the hours between 12:00, when I went to bed, and 2:15 when I finally went to sleep...
I was shaken awake ten minutes later to prepare for my shift.
When night blends into morning it seems that there is no transition in day, and simply a change of scene. From 2:30 to 4:00, I wasn't entirely alone. I was accompanied by the moon, the stars, and an older man who fell asleep on duty several times.
At 4:00 I woke everyone else up and we pulled anchor and set out for the Delaware.
***
Later this year, at camp, I accompanied the Sr. campers on a windy two day mountain trip. On the end of the second day, the leaders of the pack, myself included, were waiting up ahead in a clearing for the slower campers. From our rocky view of the mountain range, we watched as the clear sky began to attract clouds, which congealed and curdled before our eyes, darkening and approaching faster every second. A roaring sound began softly in the distance, slowly growing louder.
A camper announced he needed to go to the bathroom and walked out to the nearby woods. Moments later, we heard a scream and the rain was upon us. That was the fastest I've ever been drenched, apart from jumping into a large body of water. It literally soaked me through and through in less than two seconds. And I was in the same position on the boat, wet to the bone and at the helm of the Gazela Primeiro.
We pulled into the dock several hours later, the crew all hardened sailors. It was sad to leave the old barkentine with my newly developed sea-legs, but I now anticipate the time in which I can sail her once more.

I guess you could go see Serenity.

It was a decent film, but coming from the perspective of someone who was unfamiliar with firefly, the appeal was in the surprising copious amount of comedy. You could go see it, as I enjoyed it, or you could not, as one of my companions slept through it.

Finally some recognition!

I didn't even think I had readers! The only time I thought people would see my website would be when I desperately get them to read under the premise of "I'm testing my hit-counter," and when Satanic worshippers get sent here by an overwhelmed Lucifer who figures he can send his followers to one who shares his name for a relaxing change of pace. (Lukas happens to mean the same thing as Lucifer) Sure, Nicky did comment on the post pertaining to him, but my hit counter has blossomed miraculously from a measly to 3, to a slightly less diseased 8. I had almost given up on this thing all together. I didn't want this to turn into some regular journal, like some spin-off of ChildoftheShine, and thanks to Nicky's shiny glimmer of hope, you may indeed see much more of the Chance in Hell

Some Observations

My house is temporarily in a state of turmoil, owning to the renovation about to occur. One of these changes is the colors of our walls, and our family has spent many dinners sitting around the various color strips, pining over the wall paint. It was during one of these discussions that my father and I came to some surprising conclusions. My sister, of course, chose the pinkest colors she could grab from the shelves, while my dad and I stuck to the blues and greens. And then the chain of conversation began:

I've noticed that stereotypically, girls like pink, and Boys are drawn to colors such as Blue and Green. Maybe it's genetic, maybe it's just accidental, and totally random, or maybe it's what society has created for us. If it is indeed the latter, where did it all begin? In early primitive life the women were forced to stay at home and tend to the young, while the men went out to hunt and gather. And so the men were involved in the green colors of the wildlife and blue of the seas by which they fished. The women, on the other-hand, were deeply involved with the pink flesh of their newborn children, menstrual cycle, and such. But if indeed these colors have each evolved individually, unknown to society, then there is one assumption we can derive from the above information.

Men are actually from Venus,
And women are really from Mars.

Harry Potter and the...

I recieved my copy of Harry Potter while at camp, the Amazon package arriving at the end of the day though I had stayed up until midnight the previous night to celebrate the birth of a new installment to the Harry Potter saga. Yet, even with the copy secure in my hands, I knew I would not be safe, no matter how fast I read it, from the freaks who read the book in 42 minutes and 36.5 seconds and then would proceed to tell every living soul they came in contact with exactly what happened in the book. So I was left with no other option than to flee halfway across the state of Maine to hide in the seclusion of Baxter state park, and the base of the end of the Appalachian trial. Safely tucked behind a curtain of heavy rain in a wooden lean-to, I was able to read my book in uninterrupted bliss. It is against my beliefs to write anything down here that would reveal any aspect of the book to a future reader, but what I will say is this; HP VI was absolutely the best book in the series.

But then I returned to camp...

Where I was expecting to see the cheery faces of a hundred readers, I was confronted with gloom and despair. That was when the news reached me. Spoilers were afoot. I had underestimated the wildfire spread of ruination amongst the fans, and many readers had even lost the heart to read, claiming they knew what happened anyway, and turning in shame. Damn you spoilers! Why must you ruin the lives of so many children? Is there no end to the thirst in your souls? Are you forever cursed to sacrifice the happiness of others for your own insecurity? You bring disgrace to the entire reading nation.

I think it was too much to ask.

Needless to say, I am back! And, needless to say, Nicky did a fine job of not posting my posts. However, as soon as I retrieve my letters from the bowels of Nicky's apartment, I'll be able to back date and post my entry.

Apart from that, Camp was an exciting mix of failures and achievements, the greatest of which being my few interactions with the rarely spotted gender of the opposite nature. Sadly, it seemed, the only viable possibility had seem to have gone back in time a few years in both maturity and physicality.

Now once more immersed in this high tech and fast paced world that is New York City, I too have succumbed to long hours at night, encompassed by the warm glow of many monitors. It is finally time, I have decided, to write my return to the masses.