Monday, October 31, 2005
I'm Sick
But I still managed to finish my animated script.
I just didn't manage to do anything else.
So there.
But I still managed to finish my animated script.
I just didn't manage to do anything else.
So there.
Labels: Television Production
Sunday, October 30, 2005
AAAAAAAAAAH...
Still trying to finish the animated series script.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH...
Still trying to finish the animated series script.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH...
Labels: Television Production
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Still... Not... Done...
Seven out of the eight episodes done. Almost there...
Seven out of the eight episodes done. Almost there...
Labels: Television Production
Friday, October 28, 2005
And Now For My Next Trick...
Watch me pull a rabbit out of my ass.
Four episodes worked over in one afternoon and evening, and all it cost me was not being able to talk to my Wife or spend any time with my old college friend Aerin today.
Excuse me...
Watch me pull a rabbit out of my ass.
Four episodes worked over in one afternoon and evening, and all it cost me was not being able to talk to my Wife or spend any time with my old college friend Aerin today.
Excuse me...
Labels: Television Production
Thursday, October 27, 2005
The Miniseries That Wouldn't Die
Okay, I've got a crap load of work to do.
There was the first reading of the entire miniseries tonight. All the actors except one made it, and I ended up having to read for the actor that wasn't there. Now there's one last push where the other writer and I have to meet up over the next couple of days and punch out all the changes made, address the concerns voiced, and otherwise tear our hair out.
That's on top of the animated script I gotta' crank out, the concept synopsis that's still pending, some articles that are looming, and helping the Wife organize her art exhibit.
Bleah. Too. Much... Work...
And now I have to get back to it. No rest for the stupid and all that...
Okay, I've got a crap load of work to do.
There was the first reading of the entire miniseries tonight. All the actors except one made it, and I ended up having to read for the actor that wasn't there. Now there's one last push where the other writer and I have to meet up over the next couple of days and punch out all the changes made, address the concerns voiced, and otherwise tear our hair out.
That's on top of the animated script I gotta' crank out, the concept synopsis that's still pending, some articles that are looming, and helping the Wife organize her art exhibit.
Bleah. Too. Much... Work...
And now I have to get back to it. No rest for the stupid and all that...
Labels: Television Production
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Busy, Busy, Busy
A fairly productive day.
If there's nothing of interest or stimulating intellectualism to report, it's because there's just a bunch o' stuff to do. The mini-series is, for the most part, done. All the episodes have been written, so now the only thing left to do is attend a reading tomorrow where all the actors will finally get their hands on the script and see what we've done t0-... sorry, with them. I also had a talk with the guys at the studio that are currently in production on their animated series and they want to see a script out of me by Monday, which, concidentally, is when I'm supposed to submit an outline for a documentary, and possibly hand in an article or two for GameAxis.
On top of this, there is the Wife's big thing.
It would seem in Singapore that there is a belief that there are only two kinds of visual artists; the Artist, and the Graphic Designer. The Wife has gotten into conversations where she's mentioned she's an illustrator and people have NO idea what she's talking about. Then she says that she draws pictures, and the person she's speaking to says, "Oh, so you're an artist." Then she says no, because it's not artwork that appears in galleries, it's stuff that goes in companies and magazines, and they say, "OH! So you're a graphic designer!" and she has to explain that graphic designers don't do pictures specifically, and it's usually at this point the conversation breaks down completely and she's left with an intense desire to find a large, heavy dictionary, preferably made of gold brick, and hurl it at whoever she' s speaking to with the page open to "I".
The result is, she got fed up and since there's an exhibition of design going on in Singapore, she threw her hat in and proposed to the governing body of the exhibition that they should have something about professional illustrators since it seems that most people in Singapore are unaware the occupation exists. They thought this was a fine idea, and now she's going nuts trying to keep it running smoothly for the big debut at the end of November.
So I am organizing stuff for her, since I can't draw to save my life, and have thus contributed by writing artist's bios (Artists don't like to write, it would appear) and create forms with lists of artwork and such for the organizers to refer to.
Which is what I should be doing now, and so I will.
A fairly productive day.
If there's nothing of interest or stimulating intellectualism to report, it's because there's just a bunch o' stuff to do. The mini-series is, for the most part, done. All the episodes have been written, so now the only thing left to do is attend a reading tomorrow where all the actors will finally get their hands on the script and see what we've done t0-... sorry, with them. I also had a talk with the guys at the studio that are currently in production on their animated series and they want to see a script out of me by Monday, which, concidentally, is when I'm supposed to submit an outline for a documentary, and possibly hand in an article or two for GameAxis.
On top of this, there is the Wife's big thing.
It would seem in Singapore that there is a belief that there are only two kinds of visual artists; the Artist, and the Graphic Designer. The Wife has gotten into conversations where she's mentioned she's an illustrator and people have NO idea what she's talking about. Then she says that she draws pictures, and the person she's speaking to says, "Oh, so you're an artist." Then she says no, because it's not artwork that appears in galleries, it's stuff that goes in companies and magazines, and they say, "OH! So you're a graphic designer!" and she has to explain that graphic designers don't do pictures specifically, and it's usually at this point the conversation breaks down completely and she's left with an intense desire to find a large, heavy dictionary, preferably made of gold brick, and hurl it at whoever she' s speaking to with the page open to "I".
The result is, she got fed up and since there's an exhibition of design going on in Singapore, she threw her hat in and proposed to the governing body of the exhibition that they should have something about professional illustrators since it seems that most people in Singapore are unaware the occupation exists. They thought this was a fine idea, and now she's going nuts trying to keep it running smoothly for the big debut at the end of November.
So I am organizing stuff for her, since I can't draw to save my life, and have thus contributed by writing artist's bios (Artists don't like to write, it would appear) and create forms with lists of artwork and such for the organizers to refer to.
Which is what I should be doing now, and so I will.
Labels: Singapore Stupidity
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
More Gaming Goodness
As things settle back into work, more work, and still more work (But now with a Wife instead of a Fiance) I find myself sitting down and playing one of the most beauitful games I've ever experienced. I actually ran into it at my favorite gaming store while showing Aerin around, and strongly resisted the urge to let her lend me money to buy it. Then later in the evening when I met the Wife, I told her 'IT'S HERE!" and she flipped out and we ended up buying it anyway.
It's called Shadow of the Colossus.
If you're any kind of serious gamer, you've been hearing about this game for months. The magazines have been raving about it, anyone that got a chance to play it at E3, or the Tokyo Game Show went nuts, and now it's available to the public at large, and I have to say, THE GAME LIVES UP TO THE HYPE.
First off, I have to reccommend this to the Jaded Gamers. You know who you are. You buy every game knowing you're going to beat it in a matter of a handful of hours, you've seen--and trashed--every boss and final boss you've ever encountered, you've figured out attack patterns on shooters, you've got your combos down in fighting games and you are getting to the point where you are bored senseless with games and wondering if there's anything you HAVEN'T seen anymore. Well you haven't seen THIS game.
I don't know whether I'd call it full on by the word or not, but so far, THIS game comes the closest to approaching Art as any I've ever seen. There is almost a luminous, palpable quality to the ambience of the game world, the art direction itself is empty, monolithic and beautiful, with spare landscapes punctuated by the ruins of massive construction from some ancient civilization. But the way the shadows play out, the mist clearing in the distance as you approach, even the quality of sunlight changing as the clouds pass and the wind picks up, all of this puts you into this dead, quiet world in a way few games have ever achieved.
The goal is simple and stated right at the beginning of the game. A girl who is important to you is dead. You place her on the altar in a massive, ancient, cathedral like space and a booming voice tells you that if you wish to restore her to life, you must defeat 16 giant beasts that are half organic, half giant statue. And that's the game. It's all about 16 titanic boss fights, each one more spectacular than the last.
It seems simplistic, but the atmosphere, music, sound, animation and intensity of the playing "Jack The Giant Killer" bring this game to a whole new level of sucking you in and making you forget the world. It's really difficult to describe the experience of playing Shadow of the Colossus, except to say that if you ever wanted to see what it was like to live in a fairy tale of sorts, this would be it. This thing bleeds talent, passion and originality at every turn, and if you're sick to death of another rehash of a GTA/FPS/RPG/Stealth game and want to see something NEW, then this is IT. If you're a veteran gamer, this will make you feel like you've seen a video game for the first time again.
And if you're not a veteran gamer, you'll look at it and go "Neat!" and probably want to play it...
Labels: Adventure Games, Games
Monday, October 24, 2005
The After Action Report
Okay, now that things have calmed down somewhat...
So. I am married. Whoo hoo.
The wedding night (Since it took place in the evening) was for the most part, the kind of wedding I've always wanted to attend, but thus far, haven't; small, intimate, and surrounded by friends with a nice ambience, good food, lots of conversation, and no hordes and hordes of relatives, strangers, and co-workers, cousins, vague acquaintances that I was only remotely familiar with. The ceremony itself took place in our actual hotel room, which was a suite at the previously mentioned Gallery Hotel. The only people in attendance besides me and the then Fiance were her immediate family--consisting of her mother, father and younger sister--my friend Aerin, who flown in from Canada to see the wedding and see a country she'd never been to before, and Eugene, a friend of mine who--in tandem with the Fiance's mom--was acting as witness. And of course the guy that presided over the ceremony itself, the Solemnizer.
The ceremony was brief and relaxed, and I think it may have barely grazed past the seven minute mark. I didn't bother with writing vows (The mercenary part of me figured since I wasn't being paid to, why bother...) and so we just fell back on the standard vows the Solemnizer had on hand with the usual sickness, health, richer and poorer clauses, and then there were the "I dos" the kissing of the bride, and that was that. It was over and time for the inevitable round of pictures. My new mother-in-law hugged me and I could hear the choke in her voice as she said, "Take care of her."
After that, the wedding party left the hotel and crossed the street for the book cafe where exactly one guest of the 20 invited had already shown up and claimed a seat. Eugene and the Wife's family comprised a sizeable chunk of the other guests, with a few friends on both my side and the wife's to fill it out. The Book Cafe has an area with couches and coffee tables which they'd cordoned off for us, and then the "light supper" we'd ordered started to arrive and we realized there was nothing light about it. It was good food and there was lots of it, a fact that some of the guests bemoaned as they'd read "light supper" on the invitation and so had gotten something to eat in the meantime, thus depriving themselves of valuable stomach space with which to stuff obscenely stuff themselves. C'est la vie.
It was a totally cool reception. The Wife and I flitted to the appropriate tables to talk to our various friends, and the tininess of the event really made it a lot of fun. It's nice to know everyone there, and mostly have everyone know everybody else. And the few people on my side that didn't know each other were sufficiently conversant in gaming anyway that they quickly bridged the gap and became friends fast as the inevitable topic of World of Warcraft came up, and they found common ground. But as all good things must, this came to an end, and we retired to our hotel room for the night.
The days since then have mostly been us playing tour guide for Aerin. So far we've subjected her to the Esplanade (Or as I like to call it, the Bug Eyes), the central business district, the shopping district of Orchard Road, our own neighborhood, which is going through Ramadan right now, the Singapore zoo, and even the SPCA and a columbarium (For those of you that don't know what that is, it's a "graveyard" for the ashes of the cremated).
Things are getting kind of busy now again though. The Wife now has an exhibition at the Singapore Design convention to oversee, I'm wrapping my mini-series, starting on an animated series, and getting involved in another documentary, we are moving very shortly, and there's still the little matter of putting in her application for Canadian permanent residency.
All in all, a happy and productive last week. Except that I didn't start on a new novel, but oh well...
Okay, now that things have calmed down somewhat...
So. I am married. Whoo hoo.
The wedding night (Since it took place in the evening) was for the most part, the kind of wedding I've always wanted to attend, but thus far, haven't; small, intimate, and surrounded by friends with a nice ambience, good food, lots of conversation, and no hordes and hordes of relatives, strangers, and co-workers, cousins, vague acquaintances that I was only remotely familiar with. The ceremony itself took place in our actual hotel room, which was a suite at the previously mentioned Gallery Hotel. The only people in attendance besides me and the then Fiance were her immediate family--consisting of her mother, father and younger sister--my friend Aerin, who flown in from Canada to see the wedding and see a country she'd never been to before, and Eugene, a friend of mine who--in tandem with the Fiance's mom--was acting as witness. And of course the guy that presided over the ceremony itself, the Solemnizer.
The ceremony was brief and relaxed, and I think it may have barely grazed past the seven minute mark. I didn't bother with writing vows (The mercenary part of me figured since I wasn't being paid to, why bother...) and so we just fell back on the standard vows the Solemnizer had on hand with the usual sickness, health, richer and poorer clauses, and then there were the "I dos" the kissing of the bride, and that was that. It was over and time for the inevitable round of pictures. My new mother-in-law hugged me and I could hear the choke in her voice as she said, "Take care of her."
After that, the wedding party left the hotel and crossed the street for the book cafe where exactly one guest of the 20 invited had already shown up and claimed a seat. Eugene and the Wife's family comprised a sizeable chunk of the other guests, with a few friends on both my side and the wife's to fill it out. The Book Cafe has an area with couches and coffee tables which they'd cordoned off for us, and then the "light supper" we'd ordered started to arrive and we realized there was nothing light about it. It was good food and there was lots of it, a fact that some of the guests bemoaned as they'd read "light supper" on the invitation and so had gotten something to eat in the meantime, thus depriving themselves of valuable stomach space with which to stuff obscenely stuff themselves. C'est la vie.
It was a totally cool reception. The Wife and I flitted to the appropriate tables to talk to our various friends, and the tininess of the event really made it a lot of fun. It's nice to know everyone there, and mostly have everyone know everybody else. And the few people on my side that didn't know each other were sufficiently conversant in gaming anyway that they quickly bridged the gap and became friends fast as the inevitable topic of World of Warcraft came up, and they found common ground. But as all good things must, this came to an end, and we retired to our hotel room for the night.
The days since then have mostly been us playing tour guide for Aerin. So far we've subjected her to the Esplanade (Or as I like to call it, the Bug Eyes), the central business district, the shopping district of Orchard Road, our own neighborhood, which is going through Ramadan right now, the Singapore zoo, and even the SPCA and a columbarium (For those of you that don't know what that is, it's a "graveyard" for the ashes of the cremated).
Things are getting kind of busy now again though. The Wife now has an exhibition at the Singapore Design convention to oversee, I'm wrapping my mini-series, starting on an animated series, and getting involved in another documentary, we are moving very shortly, and there's still the little matter of putting in her application for Canadian permanent residency.
All in all, a happy and productive last week. Except that I didn't start on a new novel, but oh well...
Labels: Icky Couple Stuff, My Life
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Right On Schedule
Not only was October 19th our official wedding anniversary, it is also (Not so coincidentally, since I engineered it that way to have fewer dates to remember) the day we officially became a couple, and the day I proposed to the wife.
True to form, as our third year came and went, so too did our annual Kitten In Dire Need Of Rescue arrive. We found it in the middle of the sidewalk along the strip of bars and "massage parlors" while taking Aerin out for some food. The hookers, pimps and johns were all ignoring it as it sat there and mewed pathetically, so we delayed our supper and brought it back home, wiped it down, fed it and put it in a box. We are now bringing it down to the SPCA so someone can take a look at it, 'cause it seems sick. It's eyes are encrusted with some goo, and it's left eye will occasionally shut and stay that way for a while.
Oh well, off to save the kitten...
Not only was October 19th our official wedding anniversary, it is also (Not so coincidentally, since I engineered it that way to have fewer dates to remember) the day we officially became a couple, and the day I proposed to the wife.
True to form, as our third year came and went, so too did our annual Kitten In Dire Need Of Rescue arrive. We found it in the middle of the sidewalk along the strip of bars and "massage parlors" while taking Aerin out for some food. The hookers, pimps and johns were all ignoring it as it sat there and mewed pathetically, so we delayed our supper and brought it back home, wiped it down, fed it and put it in a box. We are now bringing it down to the SPCA so someone can take a look at it, 'cause it seems sick. It's eyes are encrusted with some goo, and it's left eye will occasionally shut and stay that way for a while.
Oh well, off to save the kitten...
Labels: Them Crazy Kitties
The Christian War
It finally occurred to me today what Christian soldiers really need to do in order to be ideologically consistent with their faith and still go about conquering every heathen culture they encounter in order to save them from burning in hell by killing them en masse in the name of God.
Before the start of every battle, you simply have to shout out the Golden Rule, ie, "DO UNTO OTHERS AS YOU WOULD HAVE DONE UNTO YOU!"
Then the soldiers proceed to punch themselves in the face, shoot their own limbs, or stab/amputate their own extremeties, thus making it perfectly okay to attack the enemy and do exactly the same thing to them, as they have now put their money (Or weapon) where their mouth is.
See, that makes sense, right?
It finally occurred to me today what Christian soldiers really need to do in order to be ideologically consistent with their faith and still go about conquering every heathen culture they encounter in order to save them from burning in hell by killing them en masse in the name of God.
Before the start of every battle, you simply have to shout out the Golden Rule, ie, "DO UNTO OTHERS AS YOU WOULD HAVE DONE UNTO YOU!"
Then the soldiers proceed to punch themselves in the face, shoot their own limbs, or stab/amputate their own extremeties, thus making it perfectly okay to attack the enemy and do exactly the same thing to them, as they have now put their money (Or weapon) where their mouth is.
See, that makes sense, right?
Labels: Random Blargh
Friday, October 21, 2005
Things You Didn't Expect To Do When You Got Married
Smash your fist into your wife's fist, making sure the rings make contact and saying "Wonder Twin powers... ACTIVATE! Form of... GEEK!"
Smash your fist into your wife's fist, making sure the rings make contact and saying "Wonder Twin powers... ACTIVATE! Form of... GEEK!"
Labels: Icky Couple Stuff, My Life
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Still Busy But...
I don't feel married. I'm told that this is apparently a good thing.
I now have in-laws.
And the season one compilation of Battlestar Galactica.
That is all.
I don't feel married. I'm told that this is apparently a good thing.
I now have in-laws.
And the season one compilation of Battlestar Galactica.
That is all.
Labels: Icky Couple Stuff, My Life
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
The Night Before
Aerin got picked up at the airport by me this afternoon. She walked right past me, but then I can attribute that to jet lag, since she did just spend something like over 24 hours in various modes of sitting on a plane, or waiting for a plane. We took her down to the edge of downtown for a quick Turkish lunch, and then wandered past the Esplanade--personally known by me as The Bug Eyes--the Singapore equivalent of the Sydney Opera House, and then she went off to crash, as she was vaguely sure that she'd only catnapped on the plane.
In less than 24 hours I'll be married. I barely slept a wink the night before, only managing to lose consciousness sometime after the sun had come up, so I'm probably nearly as jet lagged as Aerin is.
There's no stag night, there's no hen night, there isn't even hanging out with friends. It's just me and the fiance, passing the time, and I think now it's time for dinner. Or late supper. Whatever you want to call it.
Right. Food.
Aerin got picked up at the airport by me this afternoon. She walked right past me, but then I can attribute that to jet lag, since she did just spend something like over 24 hours in various modes of sitting on a plane, or waiting for a plane. We took her down to the edge of downtown for a quick Turkish lunch, and then wandered past the Esplanade--personally known by me as The Bug Eyes--the Singapore equivalent of the Sydney Opera House, and then she went off to crash, as she was vaguely sure that she'd only catnapped on the plane.
In less than 24 hours I'll be married. I barely slept a wink the night before, only managing to lose consciousness sometime after the sun had come up, so I'm probably nearly as jet lagged as Aerin is.
There's no stag night, there's no hen night, there isn't even hanging out with friends. It's just me and the fiance, passing the time, and I think now it's time for dinner. Or late supper. Whatever you want to call it.
Right. Food.
Labels: Icky Couple Stuff, My Life
Monday, October 17, 2005
Suicide Prevention & Porn Titles
As part of the final episode for the mini-series that I'm working on, I had to find out what kind of emergency treatments were appropriate in the event that wrists had been slashed and there was massive blood loss because of a deep cut to a major artery. Don't ask.
It also occurred to me today that if one were to make a porn film that were an affront to Christians, then if you could get away with it, "Touched By An Angel" is perfect and doesn't require any modification whatsoever.
Anyway, back to more of that...
As part of the final episode for the mini-series that I'm working on, I had to find out what kind of emergency treatments were appropriate in the event that wrists had been slashed and there was massive blood loss because of a deep cut to a major artery. Don't ask.
It also occurred to me today that if one were to make a porn film that were an affront to Christians, then if you could get away with it, "Touched By An Angel" is perfect and doesn't require any modification whatsoever.
Anyway, back to more of that...
Labels: Random Blargh, Television Production
Sunday, October 16, 2005
The Current Tally
Out of 8 episodes required, 7 have been written for the mini-series. Home stretch now.
Just a little over two days and I will no longer be single.
Went in for a talk on Friday with Scrawl Studios about doing some possible work for them on an animated series. The talk actually went pretty well, and I'll most likely start gearing up to work with them once I wrap up this this mini-series for Arts Central.
We have boxes to pack books, comics, games, toys and DVDs in. We are also thinking of purchasing a dryer.
I handed in the latest requested draft of the kiddy non-fiction book and have been waiting for a response on that.
I still have not started on the children's novel.
I still owe three articles to GameAxis.
I still haven't gotten a haircut.
And my friend Aerin is arriving at noon on Tuesday.
And now I need to pack things in boxes because I said I would, then possibly watch 2046.
Gonna' be a busy week...
Out of 8 episodes required, 7 have been written for the mini-series. Home stretch now.
Just a little over two days and I will no longer be single.
Went in for a talk on Friday with Scrawl Studios about doing some possible work for them on an animated series. The talk actually went pretty well, and I'll most likely start gearing up to work with them once I wrap up this this mini-series for Arts Central.
We have boxes to pack books, comics, games, toys and DVDs in. We are also thinking of purchasing a dryer.
I handed in the latest requested draft of the kiddy non-fiction book and have been waiting for a response on that.
I still have not started on the children's novel.
I still owe three articles to GameAxis.
I still haven't gotten a haircut.
And my friend Aerin is arriving at noon on Tuesday.
And now I need to pack things in boxes because I said I would, then possibly watch 2046.
Gonna' be a busy week...
Labels: My Life, Television Production, Writing
Saturday, October 15, 2005
I'm Not Gay Even Though My Engine's In The Rear, Honest
It occurs to me that one of the great no-brainers as far as sexual slang/metaphors goes is that of men and cars. Since it's practically a standardized measuring stick of a man's masculinity, sexual prowess and penis size to observe their car habits and project from there onto their sexual proclivities, I'm amazed that we don't see more sex lang/lingo based on automotive references. The car is the penis psychologically, so why is it that linguistically the car is... still a car? And yet cigars and bananas are not?
In an attempt to correct this, I'm putting forth some fairly simple and obvious examples of how the automobile as sexual metaphor should be properly carried out, since the association between men, sex and cars is so profoundly burned into social consience it's a wonder that people don't get VD checks at gas stations...
"Polish The Hood": Masturbation.
"I ran her over.": We had sex.
"I ran her over. Twice. And then backed up on her." : We had sex twice, and then I engaged in oral sex.
"I'm out of starter fluid." : I'm impotent.
"I drive an 18 wheeler.": My sexual genitalia suffers from a massive and localized strain of Elephantitis, and I require my own motorized vehicle to carry them around. Sex with me will most likely result in your death, because I'm too much man for 50 women.
"I've got custom work under the hood": I've had a vasectomy. Please have sex with me without a condom.
"I'm a car modder.": I sent away for penis extension treatment suction machine and now I can't feel anything in my groin unless you kick me.
"I've got a noisy exhaust": I fart upon climax. You've been warned.
"It goes from 0-60 in five seconds": I suffer from premature ejaculation.
"It's stuck in first gear.": I suffer from retarded ejaculation and never climax.
"I own a Volkswagon 412.": I'm gay, but in that cute, chintzy, retro modern Euro way.
"I own a Chevy Corvair.": I'm gay, but was in my heyday in the 70's.
"I need an oil change.": Oral sex, please.
"I need lots of trunk space.": I like girls with huge bottoms.
"Flat tire": Too drunk/stoned for sex.
"Spare tire": But if we watch porn maybe that'll help...
"Fender bender": I've been kicked in the groin. Help me.
"It's a convertible.": I'm bi-sexual.
"It's a diesel engine.": I can only have sex when country music is playing.
"It's a family car.": I don't have sex anymore. Change that. Please, I'm begging you.
It occurs to me that one of the great no-brainers as far as sexual slang/metaphors goes is that of men and cars. Since it's practically a standardized measuring stick of a man's masculinity, sexual prowess and penis size to observe their car habits and project from there onto their sexual proclivities, I'm amazed that we don't see more sex lang/lingo based on automotive references. The car is the penis psychologically, so why is it that linguistically the car is... still a car? And yet cigars and bananas are not?
In an attempt to correct this, I'm putting forth some fairly simple and obvious examples of how the automobile as sexual metaphor should be properly carried out, since the association between men, sex and cars is so profoundly burned into social consience it's a wonder that people don't get VD checks at gas stations...
"Polish The Hood": Masturbation.
"I ran her over.": We had sex.
"I ran her over. Twice. And then backed up on her." : We had sex twice, and then I engaged in oral sex.
"I'm out of starter fluid." : I'm impotent.
"I drive an 18 wheeler.": My sexual genitalia suffers from a massive and localized strain of Elephantitis, and I require my own motorized vehicle to carry them around. Sex with me will most likely result in your death, because I'm too much man for 50 women.
"I've got custom work under the hood": I've had a vasectomy. Please have sex with me without a condom.
"I'm a car modder.": I sent away for penis extension treatment suction machine and now I can't feel anything in my groin unless you kick me.
"I've got a noisy exhaust": I fart upon climax. You've been warned.
"It goes from 0-60 in five seconds": I suffer from premature ejaculation.
"It's stuck in first gear.": I suffer from retarded ejaculation and never climax.
"I own a Volkswagon 412.": I'm gay, but in that cute, chintzy, retro modern Euro way.
"I own a Chevy Corvair.": I'm gay, but was in my heyday in the 70's.
"I need an oil change.": Oral sex, please.
"I need lots of trunk space.": I like girls with huge bottoms.
"Flat tire": Too drunk/stoned for sex.
"Spare tire": But if we watch porn maybe that'll help...
"Fender bender": I've been kicked in the groin. Help me.
"It's a convertible.": I'm bi-sexual.
"It's a diesel engine.": I can only have sex when country music is playing.
"It's a family car.": I don't have sex anymore. Change that. Please, I'm begging you.
Labels: Random Blargh, Stupid Scripts
Friday, October 14, 2005
It's Only Funny If You're A Gamer-Geek
Or maybe a military historian that likes Real Time Strategy games. I wish I could take credit for this, but I can't. I have no idea where it came from, but I found it on the forums of GameAxis, my game writing gig, and I feel the need to share, so here ya' go...
If World War Two had been an online Real Time Strategy game, the chat room traffic would have gone something like this:
*Hitler[AoE] has joined the game.
**Eisenhower has joined the game.
**paTTon has joined the game.
**Churchill has joined the game.
**benny-tow has joined the game.
**T0J0 has joined the game.
**Roosevelt has joined the game.
**Stalin has joined the game.
**deGaulle has joined the game.
*Roosevelt: hey sup
T0J0: y0
Stalin: hi
Churchill: hi
Hitler[AoE]: cool, i start with panzer tanks!
paTTon: lol more like panzy tanks
T0JO: lol
Roosevelt: o this fockin sucks i got a depression!
benny-tow: haha america sux
Stalin: hey hitler you dont fight me i dont fight u, cool?
Hitler[AoE]; sure whatever
Stalin: cool
deGaulle: **** Hitler rushed some1 help
Hitler[AoE]: lol byebye frenchy
Roosevelt: i dont got **** to help, sry
Churchill: wtf the luftwaffle is attacking me
Roosevelt: get antiair guns
Churchill: i cant afford them
benny-tow: u n00bs know what team talk is?
paTTon: stfu
Roosevelt: o yah hit the navajo button guys
deGaulle: eisenhower ur worthless come help me quick
Eisenhower: i cant do **** til rosevelt gives me an army
paTTon: yah hurry the fock up
Churchill: d00d im gettin pounded
deGaulle: this is fockin weak u guys suck
*deGaulle has left the game.*
Roosevelt: im gonna attack the axis k?
benny-tow: with what? ur wheelchair?
benny-tow: lol did u mess up ur legs AND ur head?
Hitler[AoE]: ROFLMAO
T0J0: lol o no america im comin 4 u
Roosevelt: wtf! thats bullsh1t u fags im gunna kick ur asses
T0JO: not without ur harbors u wont! lol
Roosevelt: u little biotch ill get u
Hitler[AoE]: wtf
Hitler[AoE]: america hax, u had depression and now u got a huge fockin army
Hitler[AoE]: thats bullsh1t u hacker
Churchill: lol no more france for u hitler
Hitler[AoE]: tojo help me!
T0J0: wtf u want me to do, im on the other side of the world retard
Hitler[AoE]: fine ill clear you a path
Stalin: WTF u arsshoel! WE HAD A FoCKIN TRUCE
Hitler[AoE]: i changed my mind lol
benny-tow: haha
benny-tow: hey ur losing ur guys in africa im gonna need help in italy soonsum1
T0J0: o **** i cant help u i got my hands full
Hitler[AoE]: im 2 busy 2 help
Roosevelt: yah thats right ***** im comin for ya
Stalin: church help me
Churchill: like u helped me before? sure ill just sit here
Stalin: dont be an arss
Churchill: dont be a commie. oops too late
Eisenhower: LOL
benny-tow: hahahh oh sh1t help
Hitler: o man ur focked
paTTon: oh what now biotch
Roosevelt: whos the cripple now lol
*benny-tow has been eliminated.*
benny-tow: lame
Roosevelt: gj patton
paTTon: thnx
Hitler[AoE]: WTF eisenhower hax hes killing all my sh1t
Hitler[AoE]: quit u hacker so u dont ruin my record
Eisenhower: Nuts!
benny~tow: wtf that mean?
Eisenhower: meant to say nutsack lol finger slipped
paTTon: coming to get u hitler u paper hanging hun cocksocker
Stalin: rofl
T0J0: HAHAHHAA
Hitler[AoE]: u guys are fockin gay
Hitler[AoE]: ur never getting in my city
*Hitler[AoE] has been eliminated.*
benny~tow: OMG u noob you killed yourself
Eisenhower: ROFLOLOLOL
Stalin: OMG LMAO!
Hitler[AoE]: WTF i didnt click there omg this game blows
*Hitler[AoE] has left the game*
paTTon: hahahhah
T0J0: WTF my teammates are n00bs
benny~tow: shut up noob
Roosevelt: haha wut a moron
paTTon: wtf am i gunna do now?
Eisenhower: yah me too
T0J0: why dont u attack me o thats right u dont got no ships lololol
Eisenhower: fock u
paTTon: lemme go thru ur base commie
Stalin: go to hell lol
paTTon: fock this sh1t im goin afk
Eisenhower: yah this is gay
*Roosevelt has left the game.*
Hitler[AoE]: wtf?
Eisenhower: sh1t now we need some1 to join
*tru_m4n has joined the game.*
tru_m4n: hi all
T0J0: hey
Stalin: sup
Churchill: hi
tru_m4n: OMG OMG OMG i got all his stuff!
tru_m4n: NUKES! HOLY **** I GOT NUKES
Stalin: d00d gimmie some plz
tru_m4n: no way i only got like a couple
Stalin: omg dont be gay gimmie nuculer secrets
T0J0: wtf is nukes?
T0J0: holy ****holy****hoyl****!
*T0J0 has been eliminated.*
*The Allied team has won the game!*
Eisenhower: awesome!
Churchill: gg noobs no re
T0J0: thats bull**** u fockin suck
*T0J0 has left the game.*
*Eisenhower has left the game.*
Stalin: next game im not going to be on ur team, u guys didnt help me for****
Churchill: wutever, we didnt need ur help neway dumbarss
tru_m4n: l8r all
benny~tow: bye
Churchill: l8r
Stalin: fock u all
tru_m4n: shut up commie lol
*tru_m4n has left the game.*
benny~tow: lololol u commie
Churchill: ROFL
Churchill: bye commie
*Churchill has left the game.*
*benny~tow has left the game.*
Stalin: i hate u all fags
*Stalin has left the game.*
paTTon: lol no1 is left
paTTon: weeeee i got a jeep
*paTTon has been eliminated.*
paTTon: o sh1t!
*paTTon has left the game.*
Or maybe a military historian that likes Real Time Strategy games. I wish I could take credit for this, but I can't. I have no idea where it came from, but I found it on the forums of GameAxis, my game writing gig, and I feel the need to share, so here ya' go...
If World War Two had been an online Real Time Strategy game, the chat room traffic would have gone something like this:
*Hitler[AoE] has joined the game.
**Eisenhower has joined the game.
**paTTon has joined the game.
**Churchill has joined the game.
**benny-tow has joined the game.
**T0J0 has joined the game.
**Roosevelt has joined the game.
**Stalin has joined the game.
**deGaulle has joined the game.
*Roosevelt: hey sup
T0J0: y0
Stalin: hi
Churchill: hi
Hitler[AoE]: cool, i start with panzer tanks!
paTTon: lol more like panzy tanks
T0JO: lol
Roosevelt: o this fockin sucks i got a depression!
benny-tow: haha america sux
Stalin: hey hitler you dont fight me i dont fight u, cool?
Hitler[AoE]; sure whatever
Stalin: cool
deGaulle: **** Hitler rushed some1 help
Hitler[AoE]: lol byebye frenchy
Roosevelt: i dont got **** to help, sry
Churchill: wtf the luftwaffle is attacking me
Roosevelt: get antiair guns
Churchill: i cant afford them
benny-tow: u n00bs know what team talk is?
paTTon: stfu
Roosevelt: o yah hit the navajo button guys
deGaulle: eisenhower ur worthless come help me quick
Eisenhower: i cant do **** til rosevelt gives me an army
paTTon: yah hurry the fock up
Churchill: d00d im gettin pounded
deGaulle: this is fockin weak u guys suck
*deGaulle has left the game.*
Roosevelt: im gonna attack the axis k?
benny-tow: with what? ur wheelchair?
benny-tow: lol did u mess up ur legs AND ur head?
Hitler[AoE]: ROFLMAO
T0J0: lol o no america im comin 4 u
Roosevelt: wtf! thats bullsh1t u fags im gunna kick ur asses
T0JO: not without ur harbors u wont! lol
Roosevelt: u little biotch ill get u
Hitler[AoE]: wtf
Hitler[AoE]: america hax, u had depression and now u got a huge fockin army
Hitler[AoE]: thats bullsh1t u hacker
Churchill: lol no more france for u hitler
Hitler[AoE]: tojo help me!
T0J0: wtf u want me to do, im on the other side of the world retard
Hitler[AoE]: fine ill clear you a path
Stalin: WTF u arsshoel! WE HAD A FoCKIN TRUCE
Hitler[AoE]: i changed my mind lol
benny-tow: haha
benny-tow: hey ur losing ur guys in africa im gonna need help in italy soonsum1
T0J0: o **** i cant help u i got my hands full
Hitler[AoE]: im 2 busy 2 help
Roosevelt: yah thats right ***** im comin for ya
Stalin: church help me
Churchill: like u helped me before? sure ill just sit here
Stalin: dont be an arss
Churchill: dont be a commie. oops too late
Eisenhower: LOL
benny-tow: hahahh oh sh1t help
Hitler: o man ur focked
paTTon: oh what now biotch
Roosevelt: whos the cripple now lol
*benny-tow has been eliminated.*
benny-tow: lame
Roosevelt: gj patton
paTTon: thnx
Hitler[AoE]: WTF eisenhower hax hes killing all my sh1t
Hitler[AoE]: quit u hacker so u dont ruin my record
Eisenhower: Nuts!
benny~tow: wtf that mean?
Eisenhower: meant to say nutsack lol finger slipped
paTTon: coming to get u hitler u paper hanging hun cocksocker
Stalin: rofl
T0J0: HAHAHHAA
Hitler[AoE]: u guys are fockin gay
Hitler[AoE]: ur never getting in my city
*Hitler[AoE] has been eliminated.*
benny~tow: OMG u noob you killed yourself
Eisenhower: ROFLOLOLOL
Stalin: OMG LMAO!
Hitler[AoE]: WTF i didnt click there omg this game blows
*Hitler[AoE] has left the game*
paTTon: hahahhah
T0J0: WTF my teammates are n00bs
benny~tow: shut up noob
Roosevelt: haha wut a moron
paTTon: wtf am i gunna do now?
Eisenhower: yah me too
T0J0: why dont u attack me o thats right u dont got no ships lololol
Eisenhower: fock u
paTTon: lemme go thru ur base commie
Stalin: go to hell lol
paTTon: fock this sh1t im goin afk
Eisenhower: yah this is gay
*Roosevelt has left the game.*
Hitler[AoE]: wtf?
Eisenhower: sh1t now we need some1 to join
*tru_m4n has joined the game.*
tru_m4n: hi all
T0J0: hey
Stalin: sup
Churchill: hi
tru_m4n: OMG OMG OMG i got all his stuff!
tru_m4n: NUKES! HOLY **** I GOT NUKES
Stalin: d00d gimmie some plz
tru_m4n: no way i only got like a couple
Stalin: omg dont be gay gimmie nuculer secrets
T0J0: wtf is nukes?
T0J0: holy ****holy****hoyl****!
*T0J0 has been eliminated.*
*The Allied team has won the game!*
Eisenhower: awesome!
Churchill: gg noobs no re
T0J0: thats bull**** u fockin suck
*T0J0 has left the game.*
*Eisenhower has left the game.*
Stalin: next game im not going to be on ur team, u guys didnt help me for****
Churchill: wutever, we didnt need ur help neway dumbarss
tru_m4n: l8r all
benny~tow: bye
Churchill: l8r
Stalin: fock u all
tru_m4n: shut up commie lol
*tru_m4n has left the game.*
benny~tow: lololol u commie
Churchill: ROFL
Churchill: bye commie
*Churchill has left the game.*
*benny~tow has left the game.*
Stalin: i hate u all fags
*Stalin has left the game.*
paTTon: lol no1 is left
paTTon: weeeee i got a jeep
*paTTon has been eliminated.*
paTTon: o sh1t!
*paTTon has left the game.*
Labels: Games
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Trapper Wayne M. D. (Massive Dotard)
I got this game today that I'm supposed to review for the Nintendo DS called Trauma Center: Under The Knife.
This game has proved to me once and for all that I'm just not cut out to be a doctor.
I'm actually quite taken with the game. It's loads of fun. If you're not familiar with the Nintendo DS, one of it's more interesting features is that it's a dual screen (Hence, DS, duh...) system with the top screen being a normal display, but the bottom screen is touch sensitive. The DS comes with a stylus that allows you to interact with the second screen. Some genius at Atlus games (A Japanese developer) decided that the stylus was perfect for a virtual version of "Operation" a children's board game that had you removing foreign material from a sick patient that was the the actual board of the game. The same principle applies here, only you're not just using forceps, you're using a scalpel, anti-biotic gel, ultra sounds, lasers, sutures, and drains to do everything from treat motor accident victims to removing tumors.
This is incredibly gimmicky, and at the same time, sheer bloody genius.
You get a real kick from making incisions, locating tumors and removing them, but at the same time, any errors you make cost the patient some health (in the form of a Health monitor at the top of the screen that starts at 100 and counts down the longer the patient stays under anaesthesia, or you screw up) and if you take too long, or screw up one time too many, the patient dies.
Lemme tell ya' there's an incredible amount of panic involve when you know the clock is ticking and all of sudden something starts hemmoraging, and you realize that instead of draining it, in your panic you picked up the laser and started blowing tiny holes in your patient.
I've already lost eight patients today, but dammit, practice makes perfect. Now, if you'll excuse me...
I got this game today that I'm supposed to review for the Nintendo DS called Trauma Center: Under The Knife.
This game has proved to me once and for all that I'm just not cut out to be a doctor.
I'm actually quite taken with the game. It's loads of fun. If you're not familiar with the Nintendo DS, one of it's more interesting features is that it's a dual screen (Hence, DS, duh...) system with the top screen being a normal display, but the bottom screen is touch sensitive. The DS comes with a stylus that allows you to interact with the second screen. Some genius at Atlus games (A Japanese developer) decided that the stylus was perfect for a virtual version of "Operation" a children's board game that had you removing foreign material from a sick patient that was the the actual board of the game. The same principle applies here, only you're not just using forceps, you're using a scalpel, anti-biotic gel, ultra sounds, lasers, sutures, and drains to do everything from treat motor accident victims to removing tumors.
This is incredibly gimmicky, and at the same time, sheer bloody genius.
You get a real kick from making incisions, locating tumors and removing them, but at the same time, any errors you make cost the patient some health (in the form of a Health monitor at the top of the screen that starts at 100 and counts down the longer the patient stays under anaesthesia, or you screw up) and if you take too long, or screw up one time too many, the patient dies.
Lemme tell ya' there's an incredible amount of panic involve when you know the clock is ticking and all of sudden something starts hemmoraging, and you realize that instead of draining it, in your panic you picked up the laser and started blowing tiny holes in your patient.
I've already lost eight patients today, but dammit, practice makes perfect. Now, if you'll excuse me...
Labels: Games
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Destination: Total Unconsciousness
Man, I sure hope I actually get to sleep tonight.
For the last two evenings, I haven't been able to sleep. The night before last, I know that I was completely up all night, straight on through morning until I finally got out of the bed. Last night, I think I may have dozed off for a few minutes at a time, only to wake up for long stretches before finally winking out momentarily as a break from the involuntary sentry duty.
There could be a few reasons for this. The night before last, I made the mistake of watching The Ring 2 before bedtime. We have a TV at the foot of our bed, and I have a phobic reaction to ghosts, so this was an exceedingly bad decision to make just before bedtime, and I harbored this mortal, terrorstricken certainty that someone with long hair was at the foot of the bed just waiting for me to break the sacred childhood rule of Poking A Body Part Out Of The Blanket. Because, as any sensible child will tell you, as long as you're under the blanket, you are completely safe. It is only when your extremities expose themselves to the night air that those precious inches of cotten, stuffing and linen can no longer protect you from every evil the world might throw at you. So it was I spent most of that evening starting to relax, then feeling my foot be exposed to night air and suddenly returning to alertness to pull my toe, hand, head back in so that bad ghost girl with scary long hair wouldn't get me.
As for last night, beats the hell out of me. I boldly faced my fear and stuck my limbs out, but for whatever reason, I just couldn't sleep, despite not actually experiencing any fear. My brain simply didn't gradually shut down and eventually switch off, instead, I suppose, simply going into brief interludes of unconsciousness as the exhaustion accumulated from the night before kicked in, only to be restored to a cranky kind of consciousness minutes later.
Heck, maybe it's just pre-wedding jitters. I haven't felt the least bit anxiety stricken about the Big Day in the least, and am actually looking forward to it, so maybe this is just my body's way of trying to experience the normal marital nervousness that's supposed to come at the prospect of being legally obligated to sleep in the same bed with a woman for the rest of your life.
Oh well, I've still got some scripts to finish...
Man, I sure hope I actually get to sleep tonight.
For the last two evenings, I haven't been able to sleep. The night before last, I know that I was completely up all night, straight on through morning until I finally got out of the bed. Last night, I think I may have dozed off for a few minutes at a time, only to wake up for long stretches before finally winking out momentarily as a break from the involuntary sentry duty.
There could be a few reasons for this. The night before last, I made the mistake of watching The Ring 2 before bedtime. We have a TV at the foot of our bed, and I have a phobic reaction to ghosts, so this was an exceedingly bad decision to make just before bedtime, and I harbored this mortal, terrorstricken certainty that someone with long hair was at the foot of the bed just waiting for me to break the sacred childhood rule of Poking A Body Part Out Of The Blanket. Because, as any sensible child will tell you, as long as you're under the blanket, you are completely safe. It is only when your extremities expose themselves to the night air that those precious inches of cotten, stuffing and linen can no longer protect you from every evil the world might throw at you. So it was I spent most of that evening starting to relax, then feeling my foot be exposed to night air and suddenly returning to alertness to pull my toe, hand, head back in so that bad ghost girl with scary long hair wouldn't get me.
As for last night, beats the hell out of me. I boldly faced my fear and stuck my limbs out, but for whatever reason, I just couldn't sleep, despite not actually experiencing any fear. My brain simply didn't gradually shut down and eventually switch off, instead, I suppose, simply going into brief interludes of unconsciousness as the exhaustion accumulated from the night before kicked in, only to be restored to a cranky kind of consciousness minutes later.
Heck, maybe it's just pre-wedding jitters. I haven't felt the least bit anxiety stricken about the Big Day in the least, and am actually looking forward to it, so maybe this is just my body's way of trying to experience the normal marital nervousness that's supposed to come at the prospect of being legally obligated to sleep in the same bed with a woman for the rest of your life.
Oh well, I've still got some scripts to finish...
Labels: Icky Couple Stuff, My Life
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Scripting, Marrying And Novel-ing
Just another one of those days where everything seemed to be moving forward, albeit in small, manageable steps.
The work on the 8 episode mini-series is now nearly half done. I'm almost through with episode 4, and I'm hoping I can keep up the pace with episodes 5 and 6, so that I'll have a relatively clear window of inactivity next week for the wedding. Fortunately my work at the video game magazine is pretty light this month, so the few articles I need to hand over to them are easily handled within the deadline.
Clothing for the wedding has also been sorted out. The Fiance dropped her wedding dress off for the obligatory thorough dry cleaning and press, and I now have something black to wear, but it's not a tuxedo, and doesn't involve ties, 'cause I just don't have the attitude to pull any of that stuff. Still this is definitely a step up from my usual barefoot with t-shirt and cargo pants sort of look so it'll still be a mild shock to friends that know me pretty well.
And The Pale Summer is making some minor progress. My agent wrote back to me today to tell me he really likes the book and since he's already sold two things with a similar vibe to Ace Science Fiction, he's going to target Anne Sowards over there for this book and see what she thinks. He's had pretty quick feedback from her before in the past, so I assume that, positive or negative, her reply about my novel will be in reasonable time.
He's also going to be shopping it around at the World Fantasy Convention next month.
See, now THIS is why I love having an agent. The World Fantasy Convention is not only in North America, tens of thousands of kilometers away from where I live, it's also darn expensive for me to get there. Thanks to the magic of literary representation, he can hoof it down there and peddle to the book to editors he already knows or is familiar with, something that I couldn't possibly lay claim to. There's also a possibility of mentioning it again to Tor, though if they take another three freakin' years to decide whether they want the book or not, I'm not all that enthused about showing it to them again.
Still, the word from my agent is he's pretty happy with the book and enormously pleased about the fact that, when dropped, it merely injures infants rather than killing them outright. Books that stun babies are always better than books that actually kill them.
Just another one of those days where everything seemed to be moving forward, albeit in small, manageable steps.
The work on the 8 episode mini-series is now nearly half done. I'm almost through with episode 4, and I'm hoping I can keep up the pace with episodes 5 and 6, so that I'll have a relatively clear window of inactivity next week for the wedding. Fortunately my work at the video game magazine is pretty light this month, so the few articles I need to hand over to them are easily handled within the deadline.
Clothing for the wedding has also been sorted out. The Fiance dropped her wedding dress off for the obligatory thorough dry cleaning and press, and I now have something black to wear, but it's not a tuxedo, and doesn't involve ties, 'cause I just don't have the attitude to pull any of that stuff. Still this is definitely a step up from my usual barefoot with t-shirt and cargo pants sort of look so it'll still be a mild shock to friends that know me pretty well.
And The Pale Summer is making some minor progress. My agent wrote back to me today to tell me he really likes the book and since he's already sold two things with a similar vibe to Ace Science Fiction, he's going to target Anne Sowards over there for this book and see what she thinks. He's had pretty quick feedback from her before in the past, so I assume that, positive or negative, her reply about my novel will be in reasonable time.
He's also going to be shopping it around at the World Fantasy Convention next month.
See, now THIS is why I love having an agent. The World Fantasy Convention is not only in North America, tens of thousands of kilometers away from where I live, it's also darn expensive for me to get there. Thanks to the magic of literary representation, he can hoof it down there and peddle to the book to editors he already knows or is familiar with, something that I couldn't possibly lay claim to. There's also a possibility of mentioning it again to Tor, though if they take another three freakin' years to decide whether they want the book or not, I'm not all that enthused about showing it to them again.
Still, the word from my agent is he's pretty happy with the book and enormously pleased about the fact that, when dropped, it merely injures infants rather than killing them outright. Books that stun babies are always better than books that actually kill them.
Labels: Television Production, The Pale Summer
Monday, October 10, 2005
No Man's Land
Better known as the Cosmetics Department of the Takashimaya department store.
Stepping into this place is like stepping into a weird, shiny, plastic version of the world where everything is made of glass, smells very nice, and comes in shades and colors you hadn't previously known existed. It is a space where Women's Insecurities are exploited to the hilt in the same way that a man's might be when he steps into an auto-dealership. Everything here is designed explicitly to make you uncomfortable and painfully aware of just how far you stray from the Beauty Ideal so thoroughly plastered on every plasma television screen, marquee display and lit sign.
It is into this warzone of self-confidence that I wandered with the Fiance as she looked around for make-up for the wedding.
One of the things that really freaked me out about the place was the insane amount of Image Engineering and Marketing Research that gone into the place. The cosmetics department is not merely a place where make up is sold, it is a frightening exercise in brand recognition. It's not like walking into, say, a video game store where you simply look at the shelf and there is a Konami game right beside a Square-Enix game, right beside an Atari game. Instead, the area is divided into zones. Estee Lauder over here, Uemaru somethin'-somethin' Japanese over here, Bobbi Brown over there. They each have their counters, sporting their distinct corporate color, their distinct corporate logo, and their own unqiue marketing aesthetic and architecture for the counter, displays, and chairs, and of course, the salesgirls.
Man, I freaked out.
Estee Lauder, for example, has girls dressed smartly in black blouses and black skirts, black hose and black shoes. I imagine this is because they are trying to be as French as possible and French is obviously all about the black. On the other end of the spectrum, you get a company called Biotherm or something to that effect, and I suppose because their corporate name sounds healthy, their girls are all wearing white track suits, as if they just hopped off the treadmill and didn't break a sweat, their rosy, painted cheeks still glowing with artificial allure. Clinique, on the other hand, due to the super-scientific sounding name they have, sport women in lab coats, looking very prim and scholarly, while some other company who's name totally escapes me, has girls smartly dressed in business jackets and slacks, making me assume they are the "corporate cosmetic" company for women that want to look good, but hit that glass ceiling on female salaries as quickly as possible.
It was unbelievable to me that amount of work that these various cosmetics companies put into establishing a very specific look for their counter girls, and yet all of them uniformly blended into a rouge-kind of blur due to the fact that they all looked like they'd thrown into a whirlpool of blush and foundation.
Cosmetics departments also seem to be where women let the venom really come out.
There were a lot of examples of women showing just how much they hate each other, but one conversation in particular that stuck out--while the Fiance was patiently ignoring all this and trying to find make up didn't look so obviously make-up-y that the only conclusion you can draw about the user is that she's a hooker, ie, most of the staff there--was a conversation between one Heavily Made Up Rich Girl and her friend that she seemed to have randomly run into.
Rich Girl 1: HIIII!!!
Rich Girl 2: HIIII!!!
[They air kiss]
Rich Girl 2: What are you doing here?
Rich Girl 1: Oh, you know, shopping for stuff. I'm thinking of getting this mascara, what do you think?
Rich Girl 2: You know, that's perfect!
Rich Girl 1: You think so?
Rich Girl 2: Oh yeah, you've got those dark marks under your eye, this really helps to blend them! Makes them look good! What about this lip stick here, I was thinking about it.
Rich Girl 1: Oh, that'll be great! Yeah, with big lips like yours those really bring them out!
[They giggle and depart after extremely fake good-byes]
And I'm left standing there thinking, "My God, do you two even like each other?"
Women are amazing in how subtle their levels of viciousness towards each other can go. I think I'll just stick to video games where if someone doesn't like me, they just shoot at me. You can't get much more straightforward than THAT.
Better known as the Cosmetics Department of the Takashimaya department store.
Stepping into this place is like stepping into a weird, shiny, plastic version of the world where everything is made of glass, smells very nice, and comes in shades and colors you hadn't previously known existed. It is a space where Women's Insecurities are exploited to the hilt in the same way that a man's might be when he steps into an auto-dealership. Everything here is designed explicitly to make you uncomfortable and painfully aware of just how far you stray from the Beauty Ideal so thoroughly plastered on every plasma television screen, marquee display and lit sign.
It is into this warzone of self-confidence that I wandered with the Fiance as she looked around for make-up for the wedding.
One of the things that really freaked me out about the place was the insane amount of Image Engineering and Marketing Research that gone into the place. The cosmetics department is not merely a place where make up is sold, it is a frightening exercise in brand recognition. It's not like walking into, say, a video game store where you simply look at the shelf and there is a Konami game right beside a Square-Enix game, right beside an Atari game. Instead, the area is divided into zones. Estee Lauder over here, Uemaru somethin'-somethin' Japanese over here, Bobbi Brown over there. They each have their counters, sporting their distinct corporate color, their distinct corporate logo, and their own unqiue marketing aesthetic and architecture for the counter, displays, and chairs, and of course, the salesgirls.
Man, I freaked out.
Estee Lauder, for example, has girls dressed smartly in black blouses and black skirts, black hose and black shoes. I imagine this is because they are trying to be as French as possible and French is obviously all about the black. On the other end of the spectrum, you get a company called Biotherm or something to that effect, and I suppose because their corporate name sounds healthy, their girls are all wearing white track suits, as if they just hopped off the treadmill and didn't break a sweat, their rosy, painted cheeks still glowing with artificial allure. Clinique, on the other hand, due to the super-scientific sounding name they have, sport women in lab coats, looking very prim and scholarly, while some other company who's name totally escapes me, has girls smartly dressed in business jackets and slacks, making me assume they are the "corporate cosmetic" company for women that want to look good, but hit that glass ceiling on female salaries as quickly as possible.
It was unbelievable to me that amount of work that these various cosmetics companies put into establishing a very specific look for their counter girls, and yet all of them uniformly blended into a rouge-kind of blur due to the fact that they all looked like they'd thrown into a whirlpool of blush and foundation.
Cosmetics departments also seem to be where women let the venom really come out.
There were a lot of examples of women showing just how much they hate each other, but one conversation in particular that stuck out--while the Fiance was patiently ignoring all this and trying to find make up didn't look so obviously make-up-y that the only conclusion you can draw about the user is that she's a hooker, ie, most of the staff there--was a conversation between one Heavily Made Up Rich Girl and her friend that she seemed to have randomly run into.
Rich Girl 1: HIIII!!!
Rich Girl 2: HIIII!!!
[They air kiss]
Rich Girl 2: What are you doing here?
Rich Girl 1: Oh, you know, shopping for stuff. I'm thinking of getting this mascara, what do you think?
Rich Girl 2: You know, that's perfect!
Rich Girl 1: You think so?
Rich Girl 2: Oh yeah, you've got those dark marks under your eye, this really helps to blend them! Makes them look good! What about this lip stick here, I was thinking about it.
Rich Girl 1: Oh, that'll be great! Yeah, with big lips like yours those really bring them out!
[They giggle and depart after extremely fake good-byes]
And I'm left standing there thinking, "My God, do you two even like each other?"
Women are amazing in how subtle their levels of viciousness towards each other can go. I think I'll just stick to video games where if someone doesn't like me, they just shoot at me. You can't get much more straightforward than THAT.
Labels: Icky Couple Stuff, My Life
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Damn You Richard Linklater...
You've turned me into an emotional wreck again.
I just finished watching Before Sunset, the sequel to Before Sunrise which was a movie made about ten years ago in 1994 that emotionally uplifted and devastated me at the same time. I just had the exact same feeling watching this sequel. Tore me into little pieces and left me feeling drained and oddly glad to be alive.
All those little compressed moments of truth and humanity and lies and fear and wanting and denial charged into one of the most potent conversations I've heard since... the first movie. It was amazing to me that despite the fact that NOTHING was happening, no explosions, no car chases, no Chosen Jedi Knights being converted to evil in the span of two minutes... I can't remember the last time I was so tense, wringing my hands and genuinely fearful of the possible outcome of the story. I could FEEL the clock ticking and just rooting for Jesse and Celine, wanting to scream at the screen, "NOOOOOOOO! DON'T SEPARATE AGAIN, PLEASE, I CAN'T TAKE THIS AGAIN A SECOND TIME! IT'LL KILL ME!"
I'd write more, but I just want to hang out with the Fiance now, and feel really, really happy about being together and getting married and all that other gooshy stuff, so excuse me...
You've turned me into an emotional wreck again.
I just finished watching Before Sunset, the sequel to Before Sunrise which was a movie made about ten years ago in 1994 that emotionally uplifted and devastated me at the same time. I just had the exact same feeling watching this sequel. Tore me into little pieces and left me feeling drained and oddly glad to be alive.
All those little compressed moments of truth and humanity and lies and fear and wanting and denial charged into one of the most potent conversations I've heard since... the first movie. It was amazing to me that despite the fact that NOTHING was happening, no explosions, no car chases, no Chosen Jedi Knights being converted to evil in the span of two minutes... I can't remember the last time I was so tense, wringing my hands and genuinely fearful of the possible outcome of the story. I could FEEL the clock ticking and just rooting for Jesse and Celine, wanting to scream at the screen, "NOOOOOOOO! DON'T SEPARATE AGAIN, PLEASE, I CAN'T TAKE THIS AGAIN A SECOND TIME! IT'LL KILL ME!"
I'd write more, but I just want to hang out with the Fiance now, and feel really, really happy about being together and getting married and all that other gooshy stuff, so excuse me...
Labels: Movies
Lazy Sunday
Meaning that not a whole lot has happened, and there's not a whole lot talk about. Aside from going down to one of the supposedly "Bohemian" areas of Singapore, known as Siglap, for lunch and a little bit of a grocery run, the day has largely been spent on work and playing Suikoden III.
I think it's funny that so many people go down to Siglap and areas like it in Singapore because they think all the substantial, talented artists go down there to hang out, when in fact, the prices of the restaurants and pretty much everything else there, make it completely impractical for anyone that's actually dedicated to their craft to shop there. So you get a lot of wannabes, with ambitions to artsiness, but most of them have never actually done anything. Still, I guess they feel that "Bohemian vibe"--imagined or not--makes them a little more substantial. Kind of like standing beside a heavily perfumed person in order for some of it to wash off on you.
Or maybe I'm just being bitter again. Hey, I'm over 30, I'm entitled...
Meaning that not a whole lot has happened, and there's not a whole lot talk about. Aside from going down to one of the supposedly "Bohemian" areas of Singapore, known as Siglap, for lunch and a little bit of a grocery run, the day has largely been spent on work and playing Suikoden III.
I think it's funny that so many people go down to Siglap and areas like it in Singapore because they think all the substantial, talented artists go down there to hang out, when in fact, the prices of the restaurants and pretty much everything else there, make it completely impractical for anyone that's actually dedicated to their craft to shop there. So you get a lot of wannabes, with ambitions to artsiness, but most of them have never actually done anything. Still, I guess they feel that "Bohemian vibe"--imagined or not--makes them a little more substantial. Kind of like standing beside a heavily perfumed person in order for some of it to wash off on you.
Or maybe I'm just being bitter again. Hey, I'm over 30, I'm entitled...
Labels: My Life, Singapore Stupidity
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Big Paintings With Love From The Pope
The afternoon was spent wandering around the Asian Civilizations Museum. Partially, because I'd never been there before, and I figure if Aerin is coming down, I'd better at least familiariaze myself with the building. But mostly it's because today was one of the last days of an art display from the Vatican. Now, what Vatican art is doing at the Asian Civilization Museum is completely beyond me, but for whatever reason the administrative body of the museum somehow decided that all those portraits of saints, angels and Pope-ish paraphenalia like massive rings with gemstones large enough to choke babies can sit comfortably beside Javanese-Hindu artifacts and Malay-Islamic relics of the Quoran.
Still, there was one display in particular that did catch my eye, if only because I'm suddenly very interested in the story possibilities behind it. A local patron donated a religious icon, a big cross that just so happens to have a sacred relic in it. There's a "button" on the cross that has a piece of wood that is claimed to have originally come from the True Cross, as in the very cross that Jesus was crucified on. I've heard millions of stories about other relics also claiming to have pieces of the true cross, but I found this interesting because of the story about this particular piece claimed to have been found along with the OTHER two crosses that hung criminals who were beside Jesus when he died. I'd totally forgotten about those two and though it hasn't turned into anything concrete just yet, I do like the idea of the True Cross being out there somewhere, as well as the crosses of those two criminals, and I keep wondering why Spielberg hasn't turned that into the next Indiana Jones picture.
It was also a very weird trip because I ran into work that I'd forgotten about. Years ago, a job came out that both the Fiance and I worked on; she did the illustrations, I did some writing. It turns out that the work was for the Asian Civilization Museum, for their interactive children's exhibits, and we found her artwork and some of my copy writing scattered around the various kiosks where you could sit down and play quiz games.
That was kind of weird, encountering work you'd forgotten about and being shocked into realizing, "Oh, wait, I did this..."
And now if you'll excuse me, I still have scripts to write. Bleah...
The afternoon was spent wandering around the Asian Civilizations Museum. Partially, because I'd never been there before, and I figure if Aerin is coming down, I'd better at least familiariaze myself with the building. But mostly it's because today was one of the last days of an art display from the Vatican. Now, what Vatican art is doing at the Asian Civilization Museum is completely beyond me, but for whatever reason the administrative body of the museum somehow decided that all those portraits of saints, angels and Pope-ish paraphenalia like massive rings with gemstones large enough to choke babies can sit comfortably beside Javanese-Hindu artifacts and Malay-Islamic relics of the Quoran.
Still, there was one display in particular that did catch my eye, if only because I'm suddenly very interested in the story possibilities behind it. A local patron donated a religious icon, a big cross that just so happens to have a sacred relic in it. There's a "button" on the cross that has a piece of wood that is claimed to have originally come from the True Cross, as in the very cross that Jesus was crucified on. I've heard millions of stories about other relics also claiming to have pieces of the true cross, but I found this interesting because of the story about this particular piece claimed to have been found along with the OTHER two crosses that hung criminals who were beside Jesus when he died. I'd totally forgotten about those two and though it hasn't turned into anything concrete just yet, I do like the idea of the True Cross being out there somewhere, as well as the crosses of those two criminals, and I keep wondering why Spielberg hasn't turned that into the next Indiana Jones picture.
It was also a very weird trip because I ran into work that I'd forgotten about. Years ago, a job came out that both the Fiance and I worked on; she did the illustrations, I did some writing. It turns out that the work was for the Asian Civilization Museum, for their interactive children's exhibits, and we found her artwork and some of my copy writing scattered around the various kiosks where you could sit down and play quiz games.
That was kind of weird, encountering work you'd forgotten about and being shocked into realizing, "Oh, wait, I did this..."
And now if you'll excuse me, I still have scripts to write. Bleah...
Friday, October 07, 2005
Commercial Breaks & Breaking Convention
The afternoon was spent sitting around the production office with the other writer, scratching chins thoughtfully, going "Hm..." a lot and constantly asking the question, "How can we fill this up?"
This is one of the realities of television writing that doesn't seem like a big deal, but believe me, you notice it when it's done badly. I'm talking about breaks. Specifically, commercial breaks.
The nice thing about writing a novel, or a screenplay, or a stageplay, is that if you have "acts" (Or in the case of a novel, "books") the size of those acts is largely determined by the pacing of the action and little else. In television, there is the almighty commercial break to consider. When you break down the numbers, a 30 minute show is actually only 22-24 minutes, with 8-6 minutes worth of commercials inserted at two points in the program. This inviolable. You cannot write a television program (at least not for free to air television) that does not have those commercial breaks in them, because it's those guys plugging in their commercials that are making it possible for everyone to get paid. Meaning that due to production/commercial necessity, any writer of a television series has the artificially induced convention of having to make sure each act is approximately 7-8 minutes long, with 30 seconds shaved off the start and end for opening and closing credits, possibly another 30 seconds lopped off for the commercial "intro" and "outro" (As in, "We'll be back, after these messages!" and "We now return to the show!")
So my afternoon was spent with the other writer, making sure we actually had our episodes paced out properly. Except in our case, the series is actually a FULL 30 minutes, so we have to make sure our acts are running 10 minutes each. It was an interesting exercise. Episode 1, surprisingly seemed to have fallen into place all by itself. Episode 2 required more tweaking, but we managed to get it done in short order and now we're both on the mad dash (again) to get out episodes 3 and 4 for next week.
I also ended up breaking marriage tradition and went in this evening with the Fiance to see her getting her fitting for her wedding dress. Well, it's not a dress, actually, it's a Cheong Sam, but still, there's some thingy about it being bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress before the wedding. Then again, there's also something about a bride and groom not living together before their wedding, and something else about a bride and groom not having sex with each other before marriage, and even something about a bride and groom not having had sex at ALL, so considering so many of these sacred traditions are burning in flames all around our relationship anyway, I figure one more screaming effigy of Patriarchal Oppressive Sexist Agenda thrown into the fire isn't really going too hurt much...
The afternoon was spent sitting around the production office with the other writer, scratching chins thoughtfully, going "Hm..." a lot and constantly asking the question, "How can we fill this up?"
This is one of the realities of television writing that doesn't seem like a big deal, but believe me, you notice it when it's done badly. I'm talking about breaks. Specifically, commercial breaks.
The nice thing about writing a novel, or a screenplay, or a stageplay, is that if you have "acts" (Or in the case of a novel, "books") the size of those acts is largely determined by the pacing of the action and little else. In television, there is the almighty commercial break to consider. When you break down the numbers, a 30 minute show is actually only 22-24 minutes, with 8-6 minutes worth of commercials inserted at two points in the program. This inviolable. You cannot write a television program (at least not for free to air television) that does not have those commercial breaks in them, because it's those guys plugging in their commercials that are making it possible for everyone to get paid. Meaning that due to production/commercial necessity, any writer of a television series has the artificially induced convention of having to make sure each act is approximately 7-8 minutes long, with 30 seconds shaved off the start and end for opening and closing credits, possibly another 30 seconds lopped off for the commercial "intro" and "outro" (As in, "We'll be back, after these messages!" and "We now return to the show!")
So my afternoon was spent with the other writer, making sure we actually had our episodes paced out properly. Except in our case, the series is actually a FULL 30 minutes, so we have to make sure our acts are running 10 minutes each. It was an interesting exercise. Episode 1, surprisingly seemed to have fallen into place all by itself. Episode 2 required more tweaking, but we managed to get it done in short order and now we're both on the mad dash (again) to get out episodes 3 and 4 for next week.
I also ended up breaking marriage tradition and went in this evening with the Fiance to see her getting her fitting for her wedding dress. Well, it's not a dress, actually, it's a Cheong Sam, but still, there's some thingy about it being bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress before the wedding. Then again, there's also something about a bride and groom not living together before their wedding, and something else about a bride and groom not having sex with each other before marriage, and even something about a bride and groom not having had sex at ALL, so considering so many of these sacred traditions are burning in flames all around our relationship anyway, I figure one more screaming effigy of Patriarchal Oppressive Sexist Agenda thrown into the fire isn't really going too hurt much...
Labels: Television Production
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Yet Another Quiet Day
What was supposed to be an afternoon of sitting around at the production office with the other writer turned into me getting some work done that had been piling up. Turns out the other writer had a bad cold and couldn't make it, so she spent today recovering so that we can panic about the mini-series tomorrow.
In the meantime, I managed to finish off that new draft of the kiddy book--just some small tweaks here and there, really--and start on episode 3 of the mini-series. So far I'm still managing to keep my head above water, and but it doesn't seem to be too taxing just yet.
I really need to start thinking about boxes.
The move to the new apartment is now less than a month away. It's not going to be that big a deal since the majority of the furniture is being abandoned, with the exception of some chairs, the Fiance's drawing table, and the TVs/DVD Player/Consoles. Everything else is just books, DVDs, games and CDs. They tell us that we'll probably have the keys to the new apartment within a week or two, and that even though our lease doesn't start 'till November, they don't care how early we move in. I'm debating taking that time as an opportunity to start moving some of the heavier--and less frequently accessed--materials in there earlier, like the books and magazines and other stuff, so that on the day of the move, at least, there will be less to worry about. It's a good thing that the building is so nearby. It's literally a ten minute walk from where we live at now, so if I were feeling really masochistic I could subject myself to the tropical heat for a few hours just ferrying stuff back and forth between the two apartments in between script writing.
And on another note, it seems that at least person is actually more excited about the wedding than I am. My old college friend Aerin is coming down to Singapore for the wedding, and she's all afluster about A) Seeing an equatorial country for the first time, and B) Seeing me again. Something that has not happened since 1998. It will be very weird having another friend from home here, but it will be cool too. The only other time this happened is when my friend Godfrey showed up a few years back and I was painfully single back then, having been recently dumped. This time I'm far more chilled out. Well, not to say I wasn't chilled out when he showed up, but I was sure was a lot more bitter.
Hm... Yes, time for more games. Go Katamari...
What was supposed to be an afternoon of sitting around at the production office with the other writer turned into me getting some work done that had been piling up. Turns out the other writer had a bad cold and couldn't make it, so she spent today recovering so that we can panic about the mini-series tomorrow.
In the meantime, I managed to finish off that new draft of the kiddy book--just some small tweaks here and there, really--and start on episode 3 of the mini-series. So far I'm still managing to keep my head above water, and but it doesn't seem to be too taxing just yet.
I really need to start thinking about boxes.
The move to the new apartment is now less than a month away. It's not going to be that big a deal since the majority of the furniture is being abandoned, with the exception of some chairs, the Fiance's drawing table, and the TVs/DVD Player/Consoles. Everything else is just books, DVDs, games and CDs. They tell us that we'll probably have the keys to the new apartment within a week or two, and that even though our lease doesn't start 'till November, they don't care how early we move in. I'm debating taking that time as an opportunity to start moving some of the heavier--and less frequently accessed--materials in there earlier, like the books and magazines and other stuff, so that on the day of the move, at least, there will be less to worry about. It's a good thing that the building is so nearby. It's literally a ten minute walk from where we live at now, so if I were feeling really masochistic I could subject myself to the tropical heat for a few hours just ferrying stuff back and forth between the two apartments in between script writing.
And on another note, it seems that at least person is actually more excited about the wedding than I am. My old college friend Aerin is coming down to Singapore for the wedding, and she's all afluster about A) Seeing an equatorial country for the first time, and B) Seeing me again. Something that has not happened since 1998. It will be very weird having another friend from home here, but it will be cool too. The only other time this happened is when my friend Godfrey showed up a few years back and I was painfully single back then, having been recently dumped. This time I'm far more chilled out. Well, not to say I wasn't chilled out when he showed up, but I was sure was a lot more bitter.
Hm... Yes, time for more games. Go Katamari...
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
More Wonkiness With Blogger
It's getting kind of weird now, with blogger sometimes allowing me to create new posts and sometimes not. Yesterday I couldn't access it at all. Today, for no apparent reason, I can.
Not that there's anything especially interesting of note going on. October is going to a major busy month. The big thing is cranking out all those scripts for the mini-series, but on top of that, there's still the children's non-fiction book to finish, and of course my usual articles for GameAxis. And there's that wedding. And we have to move into a new apartment. And we have to apply for the Fiance's Canadian Permanent Residency. And I have to start on a new novel.
Hopefully this blogger reliability thing will sort itself out, otherwise, if you don't see a post on a particular day, it just means I tried posting for that day and once again couldn't. But I'll try and make up the difference whenever Blogger lets me again.
It's getting kind of weird now, with blogger sometimes allowing me to create new posts and sometimes not. Yesterday I couldn't access it at all. Today, for no apparent reason, I can.
Not that there's anything especially interesting of note going on. October is going to a major busy month. The big thing is cranking out all those scripts for the mini-series, but on top of that, there's still the children's non-fiction book to finish, and of course my usual articles for GameAxis. And there's that wedding. And we have to move into a new apartment. And we have to apply for the Fiance's Canadian Permanent Residency. And I have to start on a new novel.
Hopefully this blogger reliability thing will sort itself out, otherwise, if you don't see a post on a particular day, it just means I tried posting for that day and once again couldn't. But I'll try and make up the difference whenever Blogger lets me again.
Labels: My Life, Television Production, Writing
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Another Boring Day Of Writing
Hit my scheduled check point for the script, managed to finish episode 1 and get a start on episode 2.
Oh and started to watch Gangs of New York, but at 160+ minutes, it took a little longer than I'd expected and I'll have to watch the conclusion tomorrow.
Hit my scheduled check point for the script, managed to finish episode 1 and get a start on episode 2.
Oh and started to watch Gangs of New York, but at 160+ minutes, it took a little longer than I'd expected and I'll have to watch the conclusion tomorrow.
Labels: Movies, Television Production, Writing
Monday, October 03, 2005
Blogger's Back And So Am I
Whew.
After being out of the loop since Wednesday, I can finally post again.
For whatever reason, when Blogger underwent some kind of database upgrade last week, it made it impossible for me to create any new posts. Now, inexplicably, I can again. Go figure.
I tried reconstructing what I wanted to post on the days when I couldn't, so there it is below with pseudo-dating to show what was supposed to go there on those particular days. Oh, and I finally managed to finish Indigo Prophecy. Definitely one of the more fun Adventure Game experiences I've had in the last few years. It's no The Longest Journey, but then that's a hard act to beat. Still, in it's own way, it managed to provide a different, and very engaging story, that kind of falls apart with some inexplicable tangents to it's story line in the last act.
Today, I picked up the wedding invitations.
The Fiance made them. They're not really invites, since we've gone and asked anyone we wanted to attend to do just that. They're actually more keepsakes, and "tickets" for the invited to flash at the Book Cafe where the reception is taking place, so that the staff there will know for sure that no one is gate crashing.
Damn. I'm getting married in 16 days. That's freaky...
Whew.
After being out of the loop since Wednesday, I can finally post again.
For whatever reason, when Blogger underwent some kind of database upgrade last week, it made it impossible for me to create any new posts. Now, inexplicably, I can again. Go figure.
I tried reconstructing what I wanted to post on the days when I couldn't, so there it is below with pseudo-dating to show what was supposed to go there on those particular days. Oh, and I finally managed to finish Indigo Prophecy. Definitely one of the more fun Adventure Game experiences I've had in the last few years. It's no The Longest Journey, but then that's a hard act to beat. Still, in it's own way, it managed to provide a different, and very engaging story, that kind of falls apart with some inexplicable tangents to it's story line in the last act.
Today, I picked up the wedding invitations.
The Fiance made them. They're not really invites, since we've gone and asked anyone we wanted to attend to do just that. They're actually more keepsakes, and "tickets" for the invited to flash at the Book Cafe where the reception is taking place, so that the staff there will know for sure that no one is gate crashing.
Damn. I'm getting married in 16 days. That's freaky...
Labels: Adventure Games, Games, Icky Couple Stuff, My Life
Sunday, October 02, 2005
Halfway Done
The script, or at least my portion of it for Episode 1 of the mini-series, is half done. Hopefully I can put it away tomorrow. At least that's my theory.
I also finally got some input about that kiddy book, so somehow I've gotta' figure out a way to squeeze in a third draft of changes for it, on top of the scripts I'm now committed to cranking out for the majority of October.
Annnnnd, we got a call from the real estate agent today, who's worked out everything for the apartment we liked, and said that we can sign on the dotted line tomorrow night.
Not bad for a lazy Sunday.
The script, or at least my portion of it for Episode 1 of the mini-series, is half done. Hopefully I can put it away tomorrow. At least that's my theory.
I also finally got some input about that kiddy book, so somehow I've gotta' figure out a way to squeeze in a third draft of changes for it, on top of the scripts I'm now committed to cranking out for the majority of October.
Annnnnd, we got a call from the real estate agent today, who's worked out everything for the apartment we liked, and said that we can sign on the dotted line tomorrow night.
Not bad for a lazy Sunday.
Labels: Television Production, Writing
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Apartment Hunting
What an odd day.
The first part of the day was spent watching a couple of Chinese guys storm through our apartment and rip off the windows so that they could "re-screw" our window fixings to ensure that they don't spontaneously fall out of the window frames and kill or injure anyone.
This, apparently, has happened recently, and as a result, all property owners are legally obligated to pay for a new procedure to retrofit windows with the new legally approved window refitting. So we got up at 10 in the morning today and watched them laborious remove one window panel after another, put new holes in the window frames, insert screws, and then reattach the glass panels. For whatever reason, this also seemed to involve a drill-type gun that spewed out lots of nail-like leftovers all over the floor.
We decided to be nice, because the family that lived above us actually came down and asked these window retro-fitters when they would come up and do their place. The answer was 1:oo pm, which was when said family was LEAVING for somewhere, so we let the retrofitters go up--since they assured us it would be very quick--and we'd just hang around and wait for them until they were done. We figured they'd be finished with us by 1:00. They ended up not getting done till 4:00.
But in the end, at least we got one more worry out of the way. We have found a new apartment. It's actually still in the same general area that we're living in now, just one train station further east. It's also fully furnished, which gives us an excuse to start selling our existing furniture now so that we don't have to worry about getting rid of it later when it comes time to relocate. It's smaller, cozier, but somehow more designer-y, so we like it a lot.
What an odd day.
The first part of the day was spent watching a couple of Chinese guys storm through our apartment and rip off the windows so that they could "re-screw" our window fixings to ensure that they don't spontaneously fall out of the window frames and kill or injure anyone.
This, apparently, has happened recently, and as a result, all property owners are legally obligated to pay for a new procedure to retrofit windows with the new legally approved window refitting. So we got up at 10 in the morning today and watched them laborious remove one window panel after another, put new holes in the window frames, insert screws, and then reattach the glass panels. For whatever reason, this also seemed to involve a drill-type gun that spewed out lots of nail-like leftovers all over the floor.
We decided to be nice, because the family that lived above us actually came down and asked these window retro-fitters when they would come up and do their place. The answer was 1:oo pm, which was when said family was LEAVING for somewhere, so we let the retrofitters go up--since they assured us it would be very quick--and we'd just hang around and wait for them until they were done. We figured they'd be finished with us by 1:00. They ended up not getting done till 4:00.
But in the end, at least we got one more worry out of the way. We have found a new apartment. It's actually still in the same general area that we're living in now, just one train station further east. It's also fully furnished, which gives us an excuse to start selling our existing furniture now so that we don't have to worry about getting rid of it later when it comes time to relocate. It's smaller, cozier, but somehow more designer-y, so we like it a lot.
Labels: Singapore Stupidity
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