Okay, the latest news I've read is that they've pulled an ad for Dunkin' Donuts featuring Rachel Ray because some racist fucker thinks it's a jihad scarf. What the fuck, people? Are you shitting me about this? There is NO such thing as a jihad scarf. Just because you've seen a muslim person wearing a scarf does not mean that the muslim is a terrorist, or that scarf is a terrorist scarf. The logic behind this one, if it can be called LOGIC (which it can't) is that Yasser Arafat once wore a scarf vaguely similar to this scarf. It was NOT a good look for him. It also didn't have little doily frills and flowers on it. It's a fucking ordinary woman's scarf. Some asshole named Michelle Malkin (whoever the fuck that is, but you can be certain he voted for Bush) made them pull this ad, because he thinks it supports terrorism. When I look at Rachel Ray, I don't think about terrorism. I think about how plain she looks, and how lucky she is that she knows how to cook. I don't get terrorist vibes from someone who shows television audiences how to make spinach dip the quick and easy way for a living. I'm guessing this Conservative prick thought she looked a little too tan, and therefore is a terrorist.

What happened to the ultra-PC days, where people were pulling ads for the OPPOSITE reason of this? I mean they pulled the ad not because it's racist, but because of a racist. When people found out the Alexander Keith's Scottish guy liked touching little boys, they pulled those ads because you don't necessarily want a fucking pedophile pimping your wares. Rachel Ray isn't a fucking terrorist. She's not planting bombs inside of her pot roasts. You're fucking giving over to some prick's false interpretation of an image. I mean this shit is coming out of left field from the right wing. How can you justify this kind of viewpoint? Next they'll want any ad with a brown person in it taken down, 'cause they's all terrorists.

If this guy sees a guy in a turban, does he automatically think: terrorist? It's like that scene in the new Harold and Kumar movie where the lady on the plain sees Kumar is brown and automatically pictures him as a terrorist stereotype. Is this guy the same way? Does he see terrorists everywhere? Does he call the C.I.A. when he opens a bag of baking powder and thinks it's anthrax? FUCK!

I mean: FUCK!

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!

Everyone I talk to who owns an X-Box 360 tells me to buy one as well and that I should play Halo, Call of Duty, Rock Band, GTA IV, etc. They also tell me when their X-Boxes crap out on them. I know four people who have had their X-Boxes die on them unexpectedly. One guy is on his third or fourth X-Box. Considering that this is a problem that's plagued the X-Box 360 since it's inception, how can people say it's a good system? When someone's car keeps breaking down, they call it a piece of junk. When you shell out $300-$500 on a luxury item like an X-Box, you expect it to work. I have a Nintendo that still works, a Super-Nintendo that still works, and PS One that still works. I've seen Ataris and Sega Genesises that are still kicking. Why did the life expectancy of gaming systems go out the window when the PS2 and the X-Box came on the market? I know that we're in a trend now where people lose interest in a gaming system in about two years, but the system itself should last at least that long, you'd think.

My PS2 has been replaced once. Not fixed: mind you. Replaced. People don't fix electronics anymore, then replace them. Something went haywire with the disc drive and it wouldn't read anymore. I attempted fixing it myself by taking it apart and fiddling with some of the gears, seeing as how heavy layers of dust had gotten far back into the machine. That didn't work, so I shelled out $100 bucks and my old P2S at Futureshop for a new one. Later, I found out that having the system standing upright may have been what wrecked it, even though there's no mention on the product of this having any effect on performance. In fact, it was encouraged. I was e-mailed to participate in a class-action lawsuit against Sony over the PS2 Stand, and the problems involved with it, but I declined, having already missed the deadline I believe.

That was my first experience with a gaming systems going kaput. I had troubles with Nintendo before, but nothing that couldn't be solved by popping out the game and blowing on it.

My 5th Generation 40 GB iPod, on the other had, is my third such one. It crapped out on my twice. Neither time could it be fixed by any human means, and hence it's been replaced twice. Nothing untoward happened to either of my failed iPods outside normal use and/or wear and tear. They simply ceased to function in any recognizable way. Now: with iPods, you can't take them in to be repaired. No: you have to go online and have someone send you a box to have it shipped away. Anything stored on the iPod is lost, unless it's on your computer as well, because they take the fucking thing and give you a new one. I wonder how it goes with X-Boxes and their hard drives. These are massive hard drives filled with game saves, downloads, games, videos, photos and music. I doubt once your system crashes, you get any of that back. You paid for the super-deluxe 500 GB model, and you end up with 0 KB once it dies.

On another note: Bill Gates and Steve Jobs are still rich.

I was checking to see who's been checking out my Windows Live Space, and this came up as one of the referring addresses. Page 3 of a search for: "D&D" "cleric" "her underwear" ain't too shabby. Skeet-skeet!

I finished Penny-Arcade's On the Rain-Slick Precipice of Darkness last night, after a difficult boss battle that forced me to go back and stock up on items. All told, the game took about six hours to play. Because of it's episodic nature, the ending left much to be desired. The entire plot of the game itself was to get back at the Giant Fruit Fucker who destroyed your house. By the end of the game, you have yet to face him. Even one of the bonuses I collected in the game is useless to me until I purchase the second game, which doesn't even have a street date yet. So, to fully enjoy the game, one must play the second, third, fourth and so on. By the time the second comes out though, you've forgotten about the first. Also, there's been no mention of the price for the second, but if it's the same as the first, it's going to be $20. To complete the saga, which may take four games, as it's hinted at in-game that there's four Gods you must face, you've shelled out $80. Each game could potentially only last you 6 hours apiece, so it's 24 hours to complete the entire saga. Compare that to old-school Final Fantasy games with lesser graphics but a similar style of game-play and more options for attack/weapons upgrades/missions. Those lasted about 30 hours. I'm not saying it's a bad game, it's just not really worth the price of admission. In the realm of RPG, this one falls flat.

As for the humour, which is the main selling point of the game, I would imagine: it's in the vein of Penny-Arcade, but it's not LOL funny. Not even lol, really. It's just merely funny. I think my favourite quote from the game itself comes from examining a crab. The note you read is, "Fact: Crabs are fucking crazy."

The comic-panel style of story-telling in the game during cutscenes isn't strictly original if you think about Spider-Man games, or even that weird Sega game way-back-when where the character you played was supposed to have your face, but it is integral to the style, and plays fairly well. If you're not going to animate a scene, this is probably the way to go. It's much more engaging than the old blue word box over the character's head, describing how they're going to fuck you up and your mother with some kinda Kefka ray. The game doesn't even have voice acting in it, however, just a narrator. Even musical numbers with lyrics are just some guy mumbling nonsense like he was in the Sims. 

It's come to my attention that people are now vandalizing by writing their e-mail, or websites on public property. It always use to be about the spray paint: now kids use black ink markers. This is their medium of choice when acting upon their baser desires, which is to say: graffiti. They seem to carry these markers on their person at all time. You're use to seeing this type of graffiti in public washrooms, but not so much out in the open. I was at the park today, and some kids had written their Nexopia addresses all over the playground equipment. Mind you: vandalizing playground equipment is commonplace, albeit somewhat confusing. Why do it? I mean, you're at the park, you're having fun. You decide to trash the equipment so no one else can use it. You probably frequent the park as well: this is your delinquent stomping ground. So the next time you go, you can't use the swing because you fucked it up.

Now: most people tag public property with their nom-de-plur, because they're self-important assholes who think others might give a damn about who they think they are. Tagging with your address is just plain confusing, and quite frankly it angers me with it's stupidity. Am I suppose to visit you online? What kind of interactions are we supposed to have? Am I supposed to write you, "i sawz yor grafeetee?" Am I supposed to write you and tell your stop being such stupid shits by writing on playground equipment? Is this the modern version of a, "For a good time call 555-5555?" My question to them would be: why do you always have a black marker with you? I can't find a black marker when I need one, and I own several. Are you stealing mine? Also: fuck you. Learn how to use spraypaint, you pussies. Graffiti has already reached the pinnacle of it's artistic/gang related achievement, and you're just dragging it the fuck down.

Communist Russians are saying that the new Indiana Jones movie is just a bunch of Commie bashing. First off, when has it ever been wrong to bash Commies? They're Communists. Bash them freely, because they're oppressed. It is the goal of every Communist to make you, the average person, wait in line for bread. Say goodbye to your free speech, the right to free assembly, private property, your ability to have more than one child, the single-family domicile, your X-Box 360 and microwave oven, and say hello to gulags and factory slave labour. Communism is evil, in every sense of the word. There's a reason people will try to escape Communist countries clinging to the back of a door on the ocean. The people who think Communism is still a good idea are the people who want to put themselves at the top of a classless society, like they're living in 1986 (the book, not the year). They're sadists. I've met pro-Communists. Believe me: they're assholes. The next time you seem some college kid wearing a Che Gurrera T-Shit: kick him in the balls.

Secondly: no one complained when Indy was killing Nazi, or child slavers, or brown people.

Thirdly: Communist Russians? Am I missing something? I thought the wall came down. Did they reanimate Lennin's corpse? I never did trust Russia: they're just bidding they're time like in that one episode of The Simpsons.

Fourthly: Indy will bash who he wants to bash. He's the one with the whip. Deal with it.

Yesterday, I traded in some of my old DVDs that didn't really belong in my collection proper. These were mostly DVDs that I picked up in a mad frenzy at a sidewalk sale for ridiculously low prices. Movies that I like, but only enough to watch once, like Lethal Weapon, or DVD sets that frightened me with their sheer volume, like my six DVD set of the new Twilight Zone with 43 episodes, or redundant like my fullscreen copy of Spider-Man 2, when I already have widescreen copy. I ended up with about $54 in store credit at Blockbuster, so I bought The Simpsons Seasons 10, which has a few of my favourite episodes on it. I was also left with some extra space on my previously overburdened shelves, so I decided to rearrange my collection. I had a sensible setting before, with DVD boxsets listed alphabetically, then my movies, listed alphabetically. Yet, on my shelves as well I have a number of action figures set in the foreground, making it difficult to access some of my movies. So, I devised a method of arranging these movies in such a way that they would still be in some sense of order, but accessible.

First, I put all my PS2 games on the top shelf, since I almost never touch them anymore. Next to these went my super hero movies, organized by comic company. First went Darkhorse Comics. This sections goes as follows: Amazing Screw-On Head; Hellboy: Sword of Storms; Hellboy; and Sin City. Then went DC Comics, which contains: Batman Begins; Constantine; V for Vendetta; V for Vendetta Steel Box; and Superman Steel Box Collection. Why is Superman not listed alphabetically? Because it's oversized. Then goes my Marvel Comics, which has: Ultimate Avengers; Blade; Blade II; Daredevil; The Punisher; Spider-Man 2; X-Men II: United; X-Men III: The Last Stand. I could have included Angel Season One, Mystery Men and Donnie Darko in these categories, but they don't properly fit the theme.

Next follows action movies, then comedies, which are then broken down by Six Degrees of Seperatio (ie.: I've organized this by actors who are commonly seen in films together.) This section has: Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy; Old School; Taladega Nights: The Balad of Ricky Bobby; SNL Collection: The Best of Will Ferrell Volume 2 (these are all Will Ferell movies obviously), then comes: SNL Collection: The Best of Christopher Walken (also from Saturday Night Live); then Late Night with Conan O'Brien: 10th Anniversary Special; Late Night with Conan O'Brien: The Best of Triumph the Insult Comic Dog (Conan O'Brien was a writer on SNL and appeared as an extra in several sketches); Wedding Crashers (Vince Vaughn was in Old School/Anchorman); Mystery Men; Zoolander; (Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson have been in around nine movies together) Nacho Libre; Tenacious D: The Complete Masterworks; Tenacious D in the Pick of Destitny (Ben Stiller appears in POD, as well as produced the TV pilot Heatvision and Jack starring Jack Black and the voice of Owen Wilson. 'Nuf' said true believer!). Finishing off this row is my Rude 'N' Crude Comedies, which includes Shallow Hal, starring Jack Black.

After that, there's my live-action TV box sets, then my animated movies and DVDs. These are sub-categorized by the original broadcasting channel. All of the FOX shows are together from: American Dad Volume One to Two; Family Guy Volume One to Five, along with Family Guy Featuring Stewie Griffin The Untold Story and the Special Edition Family Guy Blue Harvest; Futurama Volume One to Four; The Simpsons Volume One to Two, Five and Ten. Then things get tricky, as I have my Matt Stone/Trey Parker Collection, featuring: Basketball; Orgazmo; Team America World Police; That's My Bush; South Park Volume One to Nine. Then there's my Adult-Swim collection with: Aqua Teen Hunger Force Colon Movie Film for Theatres for DVD; Harvey Birdman: Attorney at Law Volume One to Two; Venture Brothers Volume One to Two.

I rearranged my figures as well, as I had purchased a Black Cat and Ben Riley Spider-Man Minimates earlier that day.  

I've been having problems with my ears for most of my life, ever since I went on a plane trip down Rochester, Minnesota  when I was seven. Ever since then, I've had difficulty pressurizing my ear drums. They're constantly popping, and the only way to plug them back in is to hold my nostrils together and suck air in sharply. A Chinese man on that fateful plane ride showed me how to do it, after the cabin pressure popped them out, and I've been doing it ever since. I live in a valley, where changing pressures tend to cause me to pop my ears every time I yawn. Along with this, I get a lot of ear infections, especially in my left ear. These use to be very painful for me when I was younger. So bad, in fact, that I couldn't sleep at night. I would lie awake, crying at the throbbing. Over time, these infections have left my eardrums badly scarred, so that anytime I get a little sick and my lymph nodes swell up, it causes my ear canals to shut. That means I can't hear very well most of the time. Some days, I'll wake up, and I'll be practically deaf in my one ear.

Last year, around this time, my ears were so badly infected they were leaking. A yellowish fluid was coming out of my ears like I had just stepped out of a pool, and I was still wringing the water out of my ears. At any point during the day, I could touch my ear and have my fingers come away wet. The doctors told me there was nothing they could do for me, except give me some antibiotics. I was starting to get dizzy spells too. I was trying to move out of my old apartment the same time I was having trouble with my ears, and I was falling over sideways as I was moving things.

Now, these past few days, my ear canal has been swollen and sore, and leaking just a little. The whole left side of my face hurts as well. I don't know if the doctors will even do anything for me if I go, except give me antibiotics, and even then I don't have much of a chance. Doctors have intentionally been phasing out antibiotic use for ear infections for fear it'll lead to more superbugs. Plus, two Christmases ago, a walk-in-clinic gave me an antibiotic prescription that gave me a bad allergic reaction.

I took some Aspirin and some cold medicine, hoping it will help.

My friend at work broke the front window with a forklift. This happened while I was supposed to be watching him, but I was called into the store to put some plywood back on the shelf. When I came back, we noticed that as he had been unstacking a pallet from the top of a rack in front of the window, the front of the forklift beneath the forks themselves had pushed two fence gates lying on top of each other at an odd angle into the glass, breaking through both panes.

The thing is: nobody cared. The manager on duty just told us to duct tape it all up for safety's sake. No one busted his balls about it. It's hard for me to picture scenarios like that which don't involve someone freaking out. At my old job, I'm pretty sure any one of the three fucking asshole managers I had to deal with at any given time would have screamed like idiots until they were red in the face, then tried to tell whoever was involved that it was coming out of their salary. On a side note: one of my managers at the Superstore came up to me in the back room one time and demanded to know if I had taken the black wrap off of pallet, telling me there was film inside, and if it was ruined it would be coming out of my paycheck, even though there's union regulated rules preventing managers from doing that. Now: I hadn't so much as seen a pallet like this in the backroom, so you can pretty much guess my reaction.

Personally, I couldn't stop laughing at him, because I thought it was so awesome. I think anytime anyone breaks through a window I'm guaranteed amusement.

Later, he had to get me to jumpstart his truck, after he left his lights on. I had to drive up so close to his truck that I had to crawl out through the passenger side door to get out, but we managed to get it started without too much of the typical, "How do I do this again?" crap that's usually involved with someone sticking a pair of jumper cables on a car. Haven't you ever seen these people? There'll be two dudes on the side of the road, with the hood of the car up, holding a pair of jumper cables, and they're just scratching their heads. My old car would leave anyone scratching their head. The jumper cable connectors are under the hood, but the battery is behind the right front wheel. You'd have to take the wheel off to change the battery.

As for me, I'm 100% positive I have an ear infection. It hurts so much the whole side of my face feels numb, like I've just had a stroke.

I've just downloaded and played the first level in the new Penny-Arcade game, "On the Rain-Slick Precipice of Darkness: Episode One." The game is available through X-Box Live and their new web-based service, playgreenhouse.com, for about $20. That's a reasonable price, but some people are reluctant to pick it up because of the game's episodic nature. The story is supposed to be continued over several instalments, almost George Lucas like, or more like Sam & Max. The animation is Saturday morning cartoon style, based on the artwork of Penny-Arcade. Tycho and Gabriel appear in the game as part of your team in Final Fantasy style turn-based combat, using a point'n'click interface and blocking/special attack system using the space bar. You navigate the environment and examine items using your mouse. You play as your own character you create, although you only get about four options or less apiece per feature (ie. gender, build, hair, eyes, eyebrow, mouth, glasses (on or off), shirt/coat, pants, shoes, gloves (on or off), so there isn't that much variety with the characters you can produce. You character, however, appears as both a cartoon drawing and a 3-D image during gameplay. Cutscenes are shown in 2-D comic book style with word balloons to better represent it's Penny-Arcade origins. 

The game is set in turn-of-the-century New Arcadia, a sort of steam-punk environment with steam-driven Fruit Fucker robots. Tycho and Gabriel are paranormal investigators in a Hellboy/B.P.R.D. (Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defence)/Sherlock Holmes style. Your house has been crushed by a giant robot and you want revenge, so you team up with them. The humour is from Penny-Arcade, with a lot of Tycho and Gabe arguing about how stupid Gabe is, and frequent use of the word "Fuck."

My only concern with the game is how long it might be. I'm worried I might crank it off in an hour or so, and then have to wait months to get the next. While the game only costs $20, I'm wondering how much each following game with cost. Five episodes at $20 a piece is going to set me back $100, plus tax. The idea of a downloadable game makes more sense than putting something out in stores. There's less costs like packaging/shipping, and you don't have to worry about returned stock or first week sales figures. Plus no CDs makes the game 100% environmentally safe. This is probably going to be the future of the gaming industry. The just need to add some more games to this service to make it more viable, and I believe that is their intent. Penny-Arcade is hosting contest independent submitted games at their next PAX (Penny-Arcade Expo) and I believe that the winners will get a shot at having their game distributed through this service.

Since Penny-Arcade has been reaming the gaming industry for over 10 years now, it's going to be interesting to see how game magazines and their internet counterparts respond to their first venture into gaming. They even drew a comic response quite a while ago imagining ign.com throwing a Penny-Arcade bashing party and trying to come up with a score less than zero. I'll have to play more to make my own judgement.

www.playgreenhouse.com

Women ski jumpers are suing the 2010 Olympic organizers in order to be included. Last time I checked: it was supposed to be the Olympics, not the Special Olympics. The spirit of the Games (which is supposedly some B.S. about resolving our differences through blah-blah-blah *SNORE*) is a lie. The Games is about selling Coca-Cola and McDonalds's french fries -two of the least healthy products you can put in your body outside of a live wolverine and cyanide- to fat-asses sitting in dark, dank basements watching competitors in their physical peak performing athletic feats, all the while stuffing their gaping maws with the very same products they see splashed across the screen, products that NEED no advertising because they're already very much a part of life. When B.C. got the Games, little cartoon dollar signs went off in their eyes, because that's all the Games are: money. And women's ski jumping is not money. People have practically no interest in most of the Olympic events as it is. How much can one care about cross-country skiing, or curling, or the biathalon? Does anyone even bother to wager money on these events? No, they just care about the outcome, because it means one more gold medal to their tally, and what does the tally give you? Bragging rights. You can brag about your country getting the most gold medals. To whom can you brag, however, since going over to Brazil and wiping your gold medals in their noses will likely get you stabbed? The only person you can brag to is your own friend, who doesn't care. So really, there's no point to the Olympics, aside from the cash outcome.

Just because there's a male competition means there should be a female competition at well. You should feel lucky there's a male competition at all: it's just there to kill time between commercials. You want your sport to be recognized as an Olympic event? Stop sucking at it. Don't go crying to some judge that you're not getting your fair share. There's going to be enough hippie-bullshit with the Olympics being in Whistler without you getting involved. In fact: I'm already declaring the 2010 Olympics the most hippie-intensive Olympics ever. It's going to make people yearn for the days of Hitler hosting the Olympics, with all the protests and touchy-feely crap. It's going to be Eco this an Enviro that. They're going to have ski jumps made of hemp. The downhill salom is going to be made two miles longer to avoid going through some endangered owl's natural habitat. The speed skating arena will be shut down by Native protesters saying it's some ancient Indian burial ground. The Olympic Flame will receive a carbon-tax bill. The gold medals will be made out of recycled material.

The idea that an Olympic committee has to include athletes from a sport no one's interested in because they'll threaten to sue otherwise is bogus. How much does it cost to put an event like this together? BILLIONS. Then you're expected to tag on some event. It'd be cheaper just to pay the $600,000,000 in fines or damages or whatever the hell these women expect. Every year someone tries to get some loser sport included in the Olympics. There were even people trying to get sex included as a sport. That's not  a sport, my friends, that's a hobby. What kind of events would there be for that anyway? See who can contract the most herpes? What happens when they fine AIDS in your drug test?

What gets me is that these women are whining about not being treated fairly. Like they're the equivalent of Holocaust victims because they're not invited. They're no Jessie Owens. Try being an African American in Nazi Germany.

In summation: get off the rag.

Women ski jumpers to sue Olympic organizers : Home : News : Sympatico / MSN

BURNED!

Comics - Explosm.net

I had a dream last night that my brother was dead. The dream was set four hours after his death. I was an emotional wreck, crying constantly until it felt like my body would give out. People kept coming up to me and acting as if everything was normal. It felt like going to work the morning after my ex left me a "Dear John" letter via e-mail. Idiot customers were asking me questions like I was Google. Answers were demanded, not asked. It amazes me how much the random people you encounter think they matter, as if everyone were a celebrity in their own mind. They try to force themselves before your own lovers, friends, and family. It's like when I was at a coffee shop with a friend one time and then a woman out of nowhere interrupts me mid-sentence and then takes the conversation away from me. Obviously, this is the pinnacle of rudeness, but can I just tell her to shut up and go away? Isn't that juvenile of me? It's most certainly juvenile of her. I'm trying to have a pleasant conversation, so I don't want to ruin the mood, but the conversation itself has just been ruined. It's hard to be polite, in a society filled with such rudeness, yet it's expected of you. I'm supposed to be this pillar of society itself while people spit on me, as though I'm a Beefeater outside the Queen's Palace.

This was the sort of situation I encounter in the dream. People intruding upon my life and my innermost thoughts and feelings. I lash out at them, telling them to begone. They barter as much as they can, saying, "It's only a quick question," "I just want to know one thing," "Could you please help me?" "It's only take a second," "Are you busy?" "I need help." There's no escaping them. I'm expected to choose between sanity, or my job, which is so often the case. I don't care about these people. I don't want to help them. I don't like my work: it's just a paycheck. That's why the prospect of saying, "Fuck it all," and leaving is such a sane one, although from the person looking in, it seems like madness.

That's the sort of day I'm having today, after this dream where my only thoughts are for the loss of my brother, which is a real-life prospect after his problems with his liver and diabetes. I almost thought of calling him up so see if he was still alive, but that seemed like something a crazy person would do. Of course it's not crazy to worry about a sick relative, but a call like that is too out of character for me. He'll know something's wrong on my end. At work I'm literally wading through customers. Each one has their own complaint. If they ask me to bring something down, there's too many customers in the way to even do it.

I don't know why I'm still doing this kind of work after six years. I have a BA. It was supposed to be a matter of education, and then the jobs would come to me. Instead, I look out at a sea of job openings online and find nothings even remotely suitable. I'm at a loss, really. I can't live the rest of my life on this kind of salary, and retail work only leads to more retail work. My only choice in retail is to climb the ladder, which can take years, perhaps even a decade. After all that, the most I can achieve is becoming a manager, with $50,000 a year and no time to enjoy it with all the work I have to do. I've already been a supervisor, and saw myself being trapped in a job I hate, with no chance to escape. So I quit and tried to find a new job, and wound up working at a different store doing mostly the same thing, if not EXACTLY, for 1/3rd less than I was making.

It's not just that I want a better job: it's just that I want something better. Something that means something.

There was a front page article in "The Province" today about a local church operator defying the demand of local business in Abbotsford and feeding the crackheads in Jubilee Park. Now: Jubilee Park is this nice little park right down on Five Corners in the middle of downtown Abbotsford. It's across from the 7-11, right next to a nice Italian restaurant and a library. It's got shady trees and your standard playground equipment. It'd be a nice place to take the kids, if it wasn't for the fact that there's more AIDS needles on the ground than grass and it's perpetually full of toothless crack heads selling/doing drugs of every size, shape and description. I once saw a nice family playing in the park, unaware. They were the only ones there. I wanted to jump out of my car and tell them to run. "Run, for God's sake!" I was honestly scared for them. They had found a rare moment in which the park was not overtaken by crime, and chose to capitalize on it. For that moment, it was a park again, not some back alley drug den. Yet, I wondered about the disposed condoms and needles that must be littering the ground. The smell of pee. These are the things you don't notice until it's too late. I imagined the horror the father would feel when he looked down at his shoe at what was poking out of the wood chips.

Let me tell you a story about Jubilee Park: One time, while driving to work, as I was passing Jubilee Park, I had to slam on my brakes because a man had run out in the street in front of me. He was being chased by a larger, blacker man, who was punching him in the back of his head. The scared white man dropped a bag of a white, powdery substance on the street from his coat pocket. I don't know my drugs that well, so I'm assuming it was cocaine or crack. Whatever it was, it was probably the reason he was having his ass beat. The white guy was stopped right in front of my car, and looked like he might try to jack me to escape. I merely locked my door, and watched him get punched. The white guy ran to the side of the CIBC bank next to the Jubilee Park, where he continued to get beaten. I kept driving to work. Why didn't I help, or call the police? 1: The guy probably deserved it (he had a coat full of crack). 2: Stepping out of my car would have probably gotten me attacked/my car stolen. 3: I wanted him to get beaten.

Yes, this is how I think most crack heads should be dealt with. I want them eliminated like Hitler eliminated the Jews, only with less fancy salutes. Almost every time I drive by Jubilee Park, there's a crack head in it. I'm not talking about homeless people, like they were in "The Province." No, these people are crack heads. Meaning: their heads are full of a narcotic substance. My friend used to count them as I drove him to work. He often got up to seven. These are the kind of people you'd expect to see on East Hasting Street in Vancouver.

So why do I want them gone? Simply because they're dangerous. I'm not just talking about them being dangerous to me, but everyone and society in general. They're polluting, they're fighting, they're dealing drugs, they're doing drugs, they're prostituting, they're pimping, they're leaving behind medical waste, they're begging, they're stealing, and they're trespassing. A mother can't walk her baby in a stroller past them, it's not safe. There's a high school just up the hill, and those kids aren't any safer having these people ride by on stolen bikes (probably stolen from the high school itself). I personally can't go to conveniently located 7-11 without seeing someone who's probably high asking for handouts. I think I might have even seen someone shooting up as I drove away. I went with my girlfriend and her kid to the 7-11 a week or so ago to get her a slurpee, and the cops were there busting someone. Meanwhile, another homeless man was sorting through his possessions on the sidewalk. I had to worry about how safe they were in the car, even though the cops were there if something went wrong. On the way home, we saw two prostitutes.

Now: this pastor is feeding homeless people in Jubilee Park. That's good for him. He's in the church. He's SUPPOSED to feed hungry people. That's his job. Only: he's giving these scum one more reason to hang around. He's potentially attracting MORE of them. Everyone in Abbotsford keeps whining about a solution to the homeless problem. My solution: close down the park, drive them out. They move to a different park? Close that one down too. Drive them out of the fucking city. Don't let them set up their own special homeless camps like the did three Summers ago. Letting them know they can get away with that kind of crap means they're going to do it more, and there's going to be more of them doing it.

I had another in a series of recurring dreams last night, where I transform into a werewolf. I can't remember much about the dreams, but I know that I've had them before. Inside the dream, I was trying to calculate how many times this has happened. The number eluded me, but I believe I came up with the stat that I've spent two full days of my life in wolf-form altogether. Since this is a dream, I have no idea what that figure is based upon.

I was tearing my claws through something when I was woken up and found myself on the couch, drenched in sweat.

Later, I dreamt about a house going up on the market that was in my budget (my dream budget being bigger than my real-life wage-jockey budget). The previous tenant had died of old age, so there was an open house. The house itself was modest, and wedged tightly between two other houses in a cul-de-sac. I toured the grounds while others tried to loot whatever they could from the garage sale. Halfway through I realized that good or bad, this was probably the only house I'd ever be able to afford, so I became desperate to put my offer on it. I had trouble finding the realtor in the crowd, however, so when I found her, the house had already been sold for a much higher price, to my former superintendent's wife, Elaine, for some odd reason.

A dude can't catch a break, even in make-believe-land. All I want to do is howl at the moon and own property, is that so much for a dude to ask?

I went to Seattle on Saturday for the Emerald City Comicon 2008. Despite being a huge comic book geek this was my first such event I've attended, mainly because it's the only such event in the North-Western United States/Western Canada. Seattle isn't that far, but it's still 2 1/2 hours away. I left a about eight o'clock that morning from my apartment with a handful of Google maps and arrived at around 10:30 and only got lost once immediately after crossing the border. They had changed the roads around since I'd last been there, which was several years ago, so the road I had taken ended with a dead-end cul-de-sac. I had no trouble crossing the border. I simply told the guard I was attending a comic book convention, and he said, "Comic book convention?" somewhat incredulously, then let me go. On the way, I noticed that every person in America has one of those patriotic red, white and blue ribbons on the back of their trucks, along with several other ribbons representing god-knows-what. They also have signs in their yard advertising Ron Paul for President 2008. I've watched all the races closely, and I have no idea who Ron Paul is, which leads me to believe he's already lost the primary election and this people refuse to accept reality, being that they are Americans. The political-mindedness didn't end there. Outside Pike's Market in Seattle, there was a group handing out fliers, proclaiming, "End world hunger! Put Al Gore on a diet!" Now: I've read a number of poorly written, ill conceived college newspapers proclaiming this-and-that (I went to a cow college after all) but that kind of low-blow/low-brow attack on a man who isn't even in office and hasn't been for eight years is baffling. He isn't even fat anymore. That's how outdated that was. I was assuming they were Republicans posing as hippies, but I didn't wait around to find out. Inside Pike's Market, however, there was a man selling roasted nuts with an anti-Hillary Clinton doll in his display window. I don't understand how Americans can get so heated over politics when it's been proven by the 2000 election that their vote literally does not matter. Their vehemence at a losing under-dog candidate is baffling. They might as well be bashing Ross Perot for all the relevance that has.

We went inside the Comicon about an hour after it opened, so it was just filling up. There was a huge line-up for something, however, and I couldn't tell what it was. I thought it might have been one of the panels they were hosting. I wanted to see the DC Nation panel with DC Editor-in-Chief Dan Ditko, but I was late coming back from lunch. The line-up was for all the free swag they were giving out. I got about four full-sized posters. There was a 30 Days of Night, a Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian, and a Hancock poster available, and I got a Darkhorse Comics Indiana Jones poster from one of the other tables. I also got a Speed Racer Mini-Poster and trading card. There was also a Heroes pre-release trading card, and a pile of comic books. There were a couple of those Furry comics starring animal characters in non-porno situations. If you want to know what I'm talking about by, "Furry," Google it. They kept throwing this comic called "Project Super Powers" by Dynamite Entertainment at you. I have about three copies of the same now, but it's exclusive at least. They're using public domain super heroes from the 40's in new adventures. I think they're a subsidiary of Marvel, since they're doing a Avenger/Invaders title. There was also a sample chapter for an upcoming book. I haven't looked at it yet so I can't say much about that. There was also a couple comics for Gearheads, and another one that escapes me. There were mini-posters for the WoW comic. At the end of the line they were showing the preview for that new Pixar movie coming out.

The front row of booth included Image comics, which had one of the longest lines, and PVP/Halfpixel, and Penny-Arcade. I was going to swing by the PVP booth later to pick up a Skull doll, but they were sold out by the time I got back. Half-pixel was giving our flier samples of their work, and I saw the artist for PVP. He took up about 2 chairs. He was fat, but most of that hung off his sides, not the front, so he looked like a bowl some kid might have made for their mom out of clay in Grade 4 art class.

At the Penny-Arcade booth, I turned on my DS copy of "The World Ends With You," knowing that in mingle mode, I was bound to pick up some new people for my friends list and be able to access their self-made stores, as well as gain points. I think I have the author for Penny-Arcade in my list now, but I'm not sure which one he is. I think he must be the one with the tagline, "Sweet Christmas!" Mine is, "I PWN." I bought their Black Mantle Zip Up Hoodie, their Gabriel's Greater Theory of the Internet Dickwad, and their book, "Birds Are Weird," which I had them sign. The artist, Jerry, signs his work in his character's name, "Gabriel," and does a little sketch as part of it, while, "Tycho's," signature is just plain illegible, but I had expected that from his blog.

In case you didn't know, Tycho and Gabe look NOTHING like they do in the comics. "Tycho," is fat and bald, whereas "Gabe" is skinny with glasses and short hair.

Darkhorse had a booth that was giving out free swag, like their Free Comic Book day copies of Hellboy and miniposters gallore. They even had some sweet bags that let you carry all your loot in. Next to them were the Suicide Girls, who were quite fugly in person. One of them looked like a twelve-year old with bad teeth. I stayed away. I had trouble finding the Emerald City Comicon exclusive booth that was selling the exclusive edition of "The Boys" issue #18, which I wanted because "The Boys" is awesome, and exclusives are more awesome. There was a booth selling statuettes in various degrees on undress, and one selling the statuette of Mary Jane that was deemed "too hot." There was another booth selling some of Suckadelic's art toys.

Near the back were the local toy/comic shops booths with all the predictable marked up merchandise. Most of the toys I saw cost more than half the price at Toy Traders in Langley. There were some rarities available, like adult underground comics and hentai toys from Japan. Further to the back was the set-up for the Heroclix/WoW TCG tournaments. I got a free Wolverine Heroclix from them, and then there were the comic artists/authors signing books. Near to the front was the "celebrity" table, feature Wil Wheaton, three contestants from, "Who Wants to Be a Superhero?" and some Stargate Atlantis dude.

There were a few people in costume. I saw two Gambits and one Rogue, a Powergirl, a Flash, some anime losers, an entire group and booth of Star Wars geeks in Storm Trooper outfits, and one COBRA soldier. Me: I was wearing a light up clock shirt I got at think-geek.com, which I received several compliments for. A comic book convention is really the only place I can wear something that dorky.

While in Seattle, we went to Pike's Place Market and ate at some retro burger shop called Johnny Rockets, and watched them throw fish around. There was this huge crowd standing around just watching them throw fish like it was most entertaining thing in the world. Later, we went to the Space Needle, but were too chicken to go up it, so we ended up dicking around at Science World. Science World is always fun. If you don't like Science World, then fuck you.

On the way home, I missed my exit and added about 20 minutes to my driving time. At the border, I didn't have to pay duty, so that was a bonus. I nearly fell asleep twice at the wheel, though, which isn't good.

After a bout of illness that kept me from working yesterday, I decided to take it easy and went to see the new Iron Man movie I was glad I did. I knew Robert Downey Jr. was a good match to play alcoholic super hero Tony Stark, but I didn't realize he was a PERFECT match. The casting really was well suited, and there were a number of memorable performances, especially by Jeff Bridges who completely transformed himself to play Obadiah Stane. He seems more like a former wrestler like Jesse the Body Ventura than a guy who's done too many movies with Barbara Streisand. There were some weird moments in there too, like when Tony's upgrading the power matrix for the electromagnet in his chest, and he has to get his assistant Pepper to reach into his chest cavity and remove a wire. She complains about the goo inside, and he has to explain that it's from the device and not his body. After watching the movie, all my dreams that night involved me building my own suit of armour. I had this one idea for a stealth suit. Using LED and fibreoptics, I realized you could potentially build a 3-D monitor that a person could wear. With miniature cameras mounted opposite the viewing side, you could project whatever is behind you in front of you. Therefore, if you were standing in front of a wall, that's what would show up on the suit. It would look weird, mind you, like a human-shaped blur, so at best it would only be a more sophisticated camouflage outfit. I suppose it's main use would be sneaking by cameras. It's somewhat feasible as well. After all, an iPod's battery provide eight hours of electricity to it's screen, while remaining lightweight.  You'd probably need a cooling unit in there too. I'd expect it'd get quite hot and stay the hell away from water, you crazy kids.

I'm trying to catch up on the newest WB series, "The Spectacular Spider-Man," after missing the first six episodes. This show is a retelling of Spider-Man in a "The Batman" style. It begins with a teenaged, high school attending Spider-Man just getting his wall-crawling legs, and encountering new villains. His best friends are Harry Osbourne, son of Norman Osbourne (both future Green Goblins/coffin fillers) Gwen Stacey (future girlfriend/coffin filler), and Eddie Brock (future symbiote super-villain/cancer victim). There's been a number of Spider-Man cartoons over the years, such as the 60's "Spider-Man," the 80's "Spider-Man and Friends", the 90's, "Spider-Man," the quickly cancelled "Ultimate Spider-Man," and the pre-Spider-Man 2 series "Spider-Man." The name for this series is derived from one of Spider-Man's many ongoing comic book series. Stan Lee attaches an action-based word to many of the series he creates, (ie. "The Incredible Hulk," "The Fantastic Four," "The Uncanny X-Men, etc.). "Spectacular" is a much underused word in the English language, but it's one of the best. It adds a touch of class to any conversation.

"How did the colostomy go?"

"SPECTACULAR!"

Spider-Man's gone back to basics, but he's been updated in a way that makes more sense than the original. plus makes the introduction of many new villains easier. Peter Parker gets bitten by a radioactive spider while visiting Doc Conner's lab (the future Lizard) and then later gets an internship working under him. Doc Conner's research in electric eels bio-electricity accidentally gives one repairman super-powers during an work-place accident, thus creating Electro. Norman Osbourne isn't the Green Goblin yet, so he's still on Spidey's good list. The Vulture is created when Norman steals the research of another inventor, and that inventor comes back for revenge. Plus, there's no M.J., and Peter's not even into Gwen Stacey. That means he's trying to pick up chicks and failing spectacularly like the 60's cartoon version of himself. That means fewer dead girlfriends.

Spider-Man's more relatable all-around. He's just some nerdy science kid trying to fit in. There aren't even that many costume changes. He's in his Peter Parker alias longer than he's ever been in the comic books (and that includes the time his clone took over his duties. 'Nuf said true believer!). Try finding some Peter Parker action in his comic nowadays. You'll never even see his face. He's even in costume when he's around his fellow New Avengers and can finally unmask. He hasn't even landed a job at the Daily Bugle yet, but he's trying to. Peter got his job there in the comic books with "Amazing Spider-Man" issue #1. He even has the web-shooters! Nay-sayers forced the web-shooters out of existence, citing it was too unbelievable for a radioactive spider-bitten teenager with super-powers to invent his own silly string wrist shooters. I can go to the toy store an buy my own rudimentary web-shooters. For some reason, people completely tune out if you try to say Peter Parker, teenaged science genius, could come up with something as sophisticated as strings of glue that shoot out of a canister strapped to his wrist, but they'll completely accept the fact that he can stick to walls and can predict when he's in mortal danger with his "Spider-Sense" because he was bitten by a spider. C'mon people! The web-shooters make the MOST sense out of any of this. I've viewed many detailed diagrams of the web-shooters, and it seems almost feasible. It even goes into detail as to how ONLY the exact pressure of his two middle fingers will set it off, and he has an adjustable nozzle for different spray radiuses, and he keeps spare web cartridges in his belt. His belt, as shown in the cartoon, still has the Spider Signal, a flashlight with his red mask symbol on it. AWESOME.

Another thing I noticed about the cartoon is it's attention to motion. They've really thought out how a wall-crawler/web-slinger like Spider-Man is going to move. When Spider-Man web-slings Norman Osbourne to safety in one episode, he shifts him from shoulder-to-shoulder to allow for his other arm to extend to shoot the web he's swinging from. That's something I've never even thought about. If you're carrying someone and trying to web-sling, you need BOTH arms. The physics in the fight scene are tailor-made as well. An normal, super-buff guy can break free of Spider-Man's webbing if he uses all of his strength at once, adding an extra element to the show. Often once someone's webbed, they're completely done for. Otherwise, why wouldn't Spider just web everyone immediately? It's more fun for his opponents to counter. Spidey has to web the hands of one thug together, and then hang that web from a flagpole to keep him from breaking free, saying, "I know you can break out of this, but I wouldn't recommend it."

AWESOME.

With my 10 Year High School Reunion coming up in two months, I had a dream that I had run into an old acquaintance from this time. Now this acquaintance was a friend of a friend, and the friend of my friend is my enemy. Yes, I have enemies. This should be surprising to no one. For a lengthy period of my life, I received death threats on a semi-daily basis. These death threats were not, of course, all from the same individual, nor groups of individuals, but rather a wide variety of people. Some I didn't even know. Some I knew well. They all had the same thing in common, however, they all hated me.

My problems with this particular individual stem from Grade 1, where he accidentally stabbed me in the hand with a pencil while we were pretending to play swords. I still have some of the lead imbedded in my ring finger of my left hand, in the webbing of the joint. Over the next 12 years, things escalated. The thing was: we had the same friends. So odds were, if I was hanging around with my friends, he'd be hanging around with my friends too. The other thing was: my friends like him better. So, they'd listen to anything he had to say and agree, especially if it was contradictory to what I said. Quite frequently, I'd have to physically fend him off. Yes, this was a bully. He'd attack me at bus stops, or in the hall. It wasn't all violence, really, some of it was just playing around, but it was ill-tempered. I never did much to defend myself. I never really had to. I've had people jump me from behind, and club me over the head with both hands, just because the opportunity was there. It never really had much effect on me. Most teenagers think they're invincible. With me: it might have been true. I've had my hand slammed in locker doors, to no avail. After that, people imagined I was immune to pain. They'd try to twist my ankle around to see if they could hurt me. They couldn't, but then again ninth graders aren't exactly built of the strongest stuff. Anyway, I was picked on, beaten up, spat on, punched, kicked, shoved, bitten, slapped, poked, set on fire, etc. None of this really affected me, which made them do it more. I didn't fight back. I didn't want to. Violence upsets me. If I get violent, I can't really control myself. I get a little psycho. I smashed in some kid's head in with a padlock in Grade 7. In Grade 12, I got in a fight on a bus. My FIRST reaction, was to grab the emergency fire axe, but I restrained myself. Then I got my nose punched in.

I don't really think about any of that much, but for some reason, this one kid keeps popping up in my head. I hated him most of all, because he was unavoidable. The others I'd only see in the halls, or at the bus stop, but he was always hanging around my friends. Even when we were acting like the two of us were friends, he was still a complete dick. He was obsessed with hockey like any other Canadian kid his age would be, and I can't fault him for that, but I hated hockey. I don't really hate it anymore, I just can't follow it. I can watch a game and enjoy myself immensely, but I don't follow any team. So if I'm asked if I saw the game last night, the answer's, "No." Hockey was the only thing discussed in certain circles at school, so I couldn't join it. That made me an outcast right there, along with my tendency to kick people in the nuts, and my huge, dorky glasses.

I guess I have a lot of unresolved psychological issues, because I keep having dreams about killing this guy. Like once a months, minimum. I'm always attacked first. It's like his presence in my dreams is the most disgusting of violations. I'll be at peace, exploring my dream world, and he'll turn up. My immediate reaction is to banish him from whatever the situation is. He'll already be trying to fight me, so I'll fight back. My arms move like they're moving through water. I'll move too slow, and my blows will land like butterfly kisses. That's when I'll grab something. It might be a stick, a street sign, a concrete block, anything nearby. Then I'll keep hitting him and hitting him. He doesn't die, per se, it's never that easy.

Last night, I dreamt I ran into him in a parking lot. It was the usual situation. My fists weren't enough, and there wasn't anything at hand, so I bit him. I tore his throat out like a wolf killing a deer. I could feel the hot blood pouring down my throat.

Obviously, this woke me up. To me, however, these aren't exactly nightmares. They're disturbing, but satisfying, like running over a racoon on the road. You hate yourself, but it's somehow fun in a hillbilly kind of way all at the same time.

The thing is: it makes me think about my reunion. These are all friends who never called me, never invited me to parties, didn't want me around. Why do I want to see them again? They've changed, I've changed. The only interest is to see how much. I looked up my one "friend's" profile online. She was a girl who stalked me back in Grade 2. She LITERALLY was stalking me. I got weirded out by all the presents she sent me through her friend, and threw them away, and destroyed them, breaking her heart. Later, she started hanging out with and dated my friend in Senior High. She was obsessed with David Usher and Moist in high school. Ten years later, that's one of her top interests on her facebook profile. My other friend I added still has the same damn faggy haircut he had 10 years ago. What if I'm the only one who's changed at all? What if I haven't? There's nothing for me in my past anyway, so what's the point in digging it up?

I spent the other night drinking beers, eating pizza and watching cartoons in my underwear. This is my kind of zen. I got my tax refund almost immediately after filing, so I bought the new, "World Ends With You Game," for the DS after reading about it on penny-arcade.com. The battles are insane in that game. You're using the stylus on one screen, slashing, stabbing, and stirring, while on the other screen you're creating combos with the directional buttons. You can ignore the one screen to focus on the other for a few seconds, but then for truly awesome combat, you're doing two at once. Plus it's got a techno-pop soundtrack that's actually listenable, and anime-style that reminds me of the characters in Kingdom Hearts.