#found many more pictures of him and us on my dad's old pc

[elenadoeslife]

your first love hits different

[iamrealbuilder]

Bill Buchalter interview

Bill Buchalter was a level designer for Sunstorm Interactive. He’s worked on 3 official add-on of Build Engine games: Cryptic Passage for Blood, Suckin’ Grits On Route 66 for Redneck Rampage, Caribbean Life for Duke Nukem 3D. Interview, November 2020: Corentin: Can you introduce yourself?

Bill Buchalter: My name is Bill Buchalter. I’m an avid gamer of all kinds – video games, board games, and especially tabletop RPGs. I’m currently a freelance writer for AAW Games (Adventure A Week Games) writing mini adventures for Dungeons & Dragons 5E. I live outside Indianapolis, IN with my wife Jane, our three kids, and our dog Roxi. When I’m not gaming, I also enjoy music, playing guitar, hiking, and camping.

C: With Sunstorm Interactive, you're credited for level design on Cryptic Passage, Caribbean Life and Route 66. How did you start working with Sunstorm and what do you remember from that time?

BB: In the mid 90’s, maybe around 1995 or 96, I was very into playing Duke Nukem 3D. Like most PC gamers at the time, I had played Castle Wolfenstein and Doom, and Duke Nukem just blew me away. Back in those days, when we played online, we would use a 3rd party program called KALI. You dialed up on your modem, logged onto the internet, and then used KALI as a portal to chat with other gamers and find someone to play with. The KALI software would then allow you to network together over the internet and play PVP matches. It was crude, and the lag could be horrible, but we didn’t know any better at the time and we loved it!

I remember I was in a B. Dalton bookstore in the mall one day (another relic of the 90’s that is long gone!) when I found a book called the “Duke Nukem 3D Level Design Handbook”. I was intrigued, and as I flipped through the pages it talked about a program on the Duke Nukem CD called Build, which allowed you to create your own levels. I had no idea Build existed, let alone how to use it. I bought the book and spent the next couple weeks diving into learning how to use Build. I was hooked!

Making my own maps quickly became an obsession. I would share them with my friends on KALI and I quickly earned a reputation for making user maps. I remember there was a map building competition, but I don’t recall who sponsored it. A guy named Robert Travis won the competition. When I saw his maps, I was blown away! His designs were so much more advanced than mine. He was using tricks I had never thought of to get lighting effects and set moods. I had to reach out to him to pick his brain.

Robert responded and we began talking and quickly figured out that we both lived in Indianapolis. He was working for Sunstorm at the time and invited me to come to their office to discuss level design. I met him there one evening, and he showed me some of the stuff he was working on. We ended up playing Duke all night on Sunstorm’s network with some of the other guys in the office. I was in heaven!

Robert introduced me to Anthony Campiti, the lead producer on Sunstorm’s next project – Cryptic Passage, an add-on for a Build engine game called Blood. They invited me to design some levels for the game and I jumped at the chance. Robert assigned me to design an opera house level and immediately I got pictures in my head of the theater scenes from Interview with a Vampire. I went home and worked furiously on designing the level. I was still rough, but with Robert’s help I tweaked things here and there and slowly learned his techniques. In the end I was really pleased with the level I’d designed. Robert and Anthony were happy too and asked me to design a second map specifically for deathmatch.

The next project Sunstorm was working on was Suckin’ Grits on Route 66, an add-on for another Build engine game called Redneck Rampage. Robert again asked if I’d like to be a part of that team and assigned me to build a truck stop level. Using a lot of the things I’d learned on Cryptic Passage, and the campy feel of the Redneck Rampage game, I had a lot of fun designing that level.

The last project I worked on for Sunstorm was Duke Nukem Caribbean Vacation. By this time Duke’s popularity was beginning to wane, and Quake was taking over. Robert was already starting to experiment and learn how to use the Quake engine. I was a new dad at the time (my first daughter had just been born) so unfortunately, I didn’t have the spare time to devote to learning a new engine. I barely had the time to design my level for Duke Caribbean, but I did manage to finish the casino level for that project. I do recall that Robert ended up going through in the end and changing a lot of the aspects of my level to fit the theme they had in mind. I remember being a bit disappointed and not really feeling like the level was “mine” because of so many of the changes. It was the last project I worked on for Sunstorm.

I kept in touch with Robert and Anthony for a while after that. They were branching out, working on other projects, and even trying to develop their own FPS game that I don’t think ever really got off the ground. Sunstorm was having the most success with their Deer Hunter line of games that at the time were selling well in Wal-Mart. Sadly, I eventually just lost touch with those guys.

I’m sure this is WAY more information than you were wanting (I’m a writer… I can’t help but go off the deep end!) but you dusted off some fond, old memories for me, so I apologize for walking so far down memory lane!

C: I see that you're still making maps, different kind of maps! This makes me wonder if maybe you were involved with W!Zone (a pack of maps for Warcraft 2 released by Sunstorm). Can you tell us a bit about that if possible?

BB: I didn’t have any hand in the W!Zone project for Sunstorm, but I loved the Warcraft series. As was common for many video gamers like me, who had roots in fantasy games like D&D, I played a lot of Warcraft and eventually got sucked into the world of MMOs with Ultima Online, Everquest, and World of Warcraft! If only I had back the time I sunk into those games!

These days I’m exclusively writing and designing for Dungeons and Dragons. I started about ten years ago writing for D&D Organized Play in a campaign called Living Forgotten Realms. I co-authored two adventures for that with my good friend, Michael Pearman, and authored a third adventure on my own. As you know from tracking me down via AAW Games, I’ve now authored six adventures for them, five of which are already published and one that is still in the works but should be released soon.

When I do manage to find time for video games, Diablo III is my game of choice these days. I’m looking forward to Season 22 starting here shortly, and like many others, I’m really hoping for something great with Diablo IV. I’ve been a huge fan of the series since the beginning, and even wrote an entire campaign for D&D 5E that translated the story of Diablo III into Dungeons and Dragons for the players in my home game! Thanks again for the opportunity to share some of this history. It was fun putting it all down and reliving those days!

C: There are two signatures in the Truck Stop level for Route 66. Do you remember anything about that ? There also several levels with no known credit : Fun Park, House of ill Repute, Mystery Dino Cave, Bigfoot Convention.

The signature on the truck stop is Route 66 was a joke! I was the only designer on that one. I just signed it "Billy Joe Jim Bob Buchalter" as a joke for bad redneck name. I wasn't the kind of guy that had to sign my maps the EXACT same way every time. :)

Other than the truck stop, I don't recall designing any other maps for Route 66. I pretty sure none of those you listed below were mine, but I don't recall whose they were.

Finally, here are some final comments Bill made after reading through some forum posts:

Wow, I am really quite humbled that you guys looked so deeply into my work! The fact that you could recognize my build style is pretty cool - I didn't even know I had a style! LOL. The truth be told, the reason you probably had so much trouble telling my levels from Robert's is because he was a big influence on me. I learned a lot from him and incorporated a lot of that into the stuff I built.

Its funny how reading through that thread you linked brought back memories... I remember now that my biggest disappointment from Duke Caribbean was that my only level in the game ended up being a secret level - that some people wouldn't even find it or ever play it. I was actually pretty excited about that level. I was the one that suggested a casino because my folks had retired to Vegas, so I'd been in a lot of the casinos there and had some great ideas for the map. I'd forgotten all about the restaurant I worked into it, and the big fish tanks.

There seems to be some debate about Robert. From what I remember, he was a really good guy. Maybe a bit tough to work for, but only because he really strived for our designs to be the best they could be, and he demanded that of both himself and the other designers. As I said before, I learned early on to accept criticism and critique and not take it personally. It was just Robert doing his job. I'll be the first to admit that I designed better levels thanks to the stuff I learned from Robert.

Someone on the message board made a very astute comment, basically to the effect that "Bill had to have other work out there. Sunstorm wouldn't hire an unproven guy off the street." But truth be told, that's exactly what they did! I hadn't done a single thing before working there. But I think a few things played in my favor. First, I lived in Indy, just 15 minutes from their office, so it was easy for me to go in and work directly with Robert. Second, while I didn't have anything officially published, I did have a disk full of the maps I'd designed on my own, and Robert thought I showed promise. I would design at home a lot, then go into the office a couple times a week and sit with Robert while he critiqued my work and offered advice on how to improve it.

I'll be honest - I'm blown away at the number of people STILL playing these old maps we made so many years ago. I watched a couple YouTube videos of a guy playing and reviewing Duke Caribbean and Blood Cryptic Passage. His high praise of both Full House and the Opera House really made my day. It's nice to know that people enjoyed my work.

_____________________________

Thanks a lot to Bill Buchalter for taking the time to answer these questions! Thanks also for sharing... “Big City” !

A Duke Nukem 3D map he created back in the day before joining with Sunstorm Interactive which was never released before! Screenshot:

Map download:

https://msdn.duke4.net/bigcity.zip

______

External link: Duke4 forum blog megathread: https://forums.duke4.net/topic/11471-blog-interviews-of-build-engine-video-games-developers/page__pid__353013#entry353013 The forum posts Bill read, mentionned above, can be found here: https://forums.duke4.net/topic/9418-duke-caribbean-multiplayer-levels/

[joe-young-stories]

A Week.

Hey, new to tumblr. This is something I wrote in an enclosed, dodgy Christian community in 2018.

The last time I saw Dad in person I was seventeen, and I’d either just finished my A-levels or I was halfway through them. I’d seen him a year before, for Grandad’s funeral. After we’d got home from the wake I’d nicked a crate of Guinness, and thrown up on my suit. I’d thrown up all over the guest bed as well, and I’d left all the empty cans in the waste paper basket. I told my dad that the emotional stress of the funeral must have affected me, and I didn’t really give a shit about the fact that he knew.

This time it was summer, and it was that one week of the British summer that is actually scorching hot. Dad was waiting for me at Oxford train station for my visit. Visa Skank was there too. Visa Skank is my dad’s Russian wife, and perhaps she married him for a visa or perhaps she really loves him. I’ve never actually had anything against her. It was rude, offensive, calling her Visa Skank, but it made me feel really savage and clever back then.  This day at Oxford train station she was in her late forties, and she was wearing this shimmer- shimmer peach linen halter top harem pants combo thing with a dainty cream pashmina and a big floppy straw hat. She was basically just easy mockery.

We went straight from the station to this ultra quaint Riverside pub/restaurant garden. I had Peronis. I had a burger too. We didn’t really have a conversation because Visa had seen a picturesque riverside photo opportunity, and she had my dad take pictures of her next to a drainage sluice for almost an hour, at different angles and filter settings. At the end we walked back through the pub to get to the car and she started draping herself mystically around rustic beams and cosy fireplaces, or sat herself next to like, napkin dispensers that pleased her. And my dad took more pictures. I just wanted to get back to the house. I don’t remember too much more from the meal.

In the daytimes that followed I fell into a routine. Dad would wake up late (his teaching job at the schools wasn’t on) and he might mooch about or he might go into Oxford, or he might just go to Headington High Street. Visa Skank had a busy social schedule attending a young mum’s social club in the Florence Park Cafe. She would spend a lot of time there. I would wake up and take a walk into Central Oxford. And I would stop for a pint in the White Horse, where we used to go for Lunch when I was little. In town I would walk the old streets around the Radcliffe Camera, and this was back when I had academic ambition before I stopped caring about most things, and the scholarly atmosphere excited me. I walked past the cathedral boys’ school – my first school—and into the Eagle and Child, or the Kings Arms, or the Turf Tavern. I would read Franz Kafka stories or Iris Murdoch novels or I’d listen to pretentious students talk shit and praise myself for being more intelligent than them. After a few pints I’d saunter back over Magdelen Bridge and back up towards the house in Headington.

Dad’s house had changed a lot over the years. The retro porn PC used to be in the dining room, and all my 9 year old self used to do at my dad’s was either play SimCity on that computer or watch Dad’s porn. He’d archived literally thousands of pictures, all categorised according to hair/boobs/race etc. Albums of particular stars. I got up early at that age, and if you were proper stealth about it could get up with the dawn and watch a four second clip of a woman getting pleasured by a mechanised shoe buffer. Only if you were stealth though. The computer screen could be seen from the stairs via the dining room mirror. You had to listen for footsteps. God forbid that Visa or even Grandad would walk in. View me wanking it to Dad’s shoe buffer porn.

Now though the house layout was different. Grandad had been a cantankerous twat since Nan died, and all he ever did was sit in the living room watching cartoons and chat shows. GMTV, Pokemon, Digimon, Homes under the Hammer. That was all I ever saw him do on visits to my dad’s.  I left him to it.

But he started losing control of his faculties, and Dad and I would walk in from the pub to a stray smell of nappies, the CBBC channel playing in the background. His osteoporosis got worse. The last time he was alive I was seventeen and he’d been moved to a hospice. He was half asleep next to his colostomy bag but he murmured a greeting and a goodbye. The three of us, Grandad, Dad and me, sat in near silence for approximately fifteen minutes. “Good to see you, Grandad,” I said to him as I was leaving. Grandad had written “to a very impressive grandson” on my birthday card seven months previously.

While Grandad was dying his house was being renovated. The dining room and kitchen had been knocked together into this rustique farmhouse experience, with a big beaten up pine table, a pine dresser and a freshly installed aga. An aga in a nineteen thirties semi. There were a lot of wholesome wicker baskets bought in and gooseberry jam jars were placed in them for effect. Next door the garage was knocked down and a den/conservatory/stargazing lounge/music studio was built. The living room, where Grandad watched all the kids TV, and which I was told was always going to be “His Space” had had all the carpets ripped out and new sofas put in. Floor to ceiling bookshelves covered every wall, and they were all full of this intelligentsia Russian shit no one read. The retro porn PC was upstairs in Dad’s bedroom now, so after I got back from Oxford that last week I’d sit in the conservatory on my laptop. Sometimes if my dad was around I’d bring up an attractive female friend’s Facebook profile and wait for him to ask me about it. He’d talk about organic food and hand picking your own raspberries, and how Russian customs and traditions were the best way to live. But most of those afternoons he was upstairs in his bedroom checking his email, which took about two hours and was a pretty full-on activity for him. If Visa was at home she’d make still life displays from Kitsch crap she found in charity shops. And she’d do photoshoots. Most of the time she was out though. Presumably with the young mums.

When I was downstairs on my own I would drink from the many, many bottles available on the farmhouse shelf. I never drank in front of Dad, but I’d never bother hiding how drunk I was getting either. A little bit of gin, little bit of vodka, whiskey, white rum.

I’d always done this. When I was about twelve, thirteen, fourteen I’d go through Dads bedroom and raid his wardrobe. I’d find his extensive magazine stash and his books on “Tantric Passion”, “The Multi Orgasmic Man”, “Make Her see you Mean Commitment”. I’d find the hamper full of Bombay Sapphire bottles; I never questioned the water bottles full of urine next to his bed. I wasn’t subtle. I’d try and incite his scorn, his discipline, his parental authority. I’d find glow in the dark condoms in his bedside drawers, and I’d take them out of the packets and leave them under his pillow like a treasure hunt. I would neck a bottle of chardonnay, refill it with tap water and leave it in the fridge for him to find. He’d look at the bottle, look at me, deliberate and stammer “I must have rinsed it out for recycling and put it back on autopilot.” I don’t think he knew me well enough to confront me. He once drove me back to mums with me throwing up ass the way down the M40, and we both agreed that I must have eaten some “ropey” quiche.

I didn’t want Dad to parent me anymore; I just didn’t really care. So while Dad was upstairs checking his email I’d access the WiFi and watch naked men beat each other, and I’d masturbate and drink gin. I think on the Tuesday of that week he found me full-on passed out in the stargazing conservatory, sleeping it off. Later on he’d said something about travelling being exhausting, especially across London, and it always took a few days for the mind to properly relax on holiday. I agreed.

In the evenings we’d go out to a pub, the Vicky Arms or The Chestnut or something. I would tell Dad what A levels I was doing. I’d namedrop attractive female friends quite a lot, and talk about parties I went to with them. I’d wait for him to be like, “Are they pretty?”, “Are they into you?”, “Like yeah, get in, my son!”, “Well done, boyo!” and things like that. Visa would come with us. She’d sit there in peach tracksuit bottoms and some kind of burgundy flamenco/matador top, and she would say things like, “Never microwave food because it changes the molecules. Did you know this? We go through a recipe book and you will find meals you would like to try.” We might order popcorn from behind the bar. Visa might demand a photo shoot of her next to an inspiring sunset or whatever.

At home Dad and Visa would go to bed in Grandads old room. Nans room, now the guest bedroom, was being fitted with a “Roman balcony” so I slept on a blow up bed in the living room with all the Russian volumes. I’d drink more whiskey and watch a comedy show about teenage lesbians.

That was it, really. The last week I saw my dad was fairly uneventful. Mundane. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was the last time I saw him I doubt I would have remembered it

Only two events stand out in particular. On the Thursday of that week Dad was playing at a jazz and tango concert at a bar/club in Wantage. He did concerts like that to keep money coming in when the schools weren’t on. Visa took tango lessons down at the community centre, and she’d met a new friend and tango partner called Allan. He had had a stroke and divorce in a five year period and had taken early retirement, so I was told. So I was briefed. Briefed why? I didn’t care.

Allan met us at the house. We all sat about having a back garden beer and then Dad and I set off for Wantage. Allan’s and Visa came later, in Allan’s car, which he could still drive all post stroked up apparently. We had another pint in a pub in Wantage. Dad introduced me to the concept of a “Session Beer”. Advice I have never followed.

Dad gave me money for the evening and then left me to my own devices. I sat on the balcony and drank a lot of Stella, and from my vantage point I could see Dad playing onstage. I could see Visa and Allan as well, and she had her head on his shoulder and he was holding her close around the lower back. This didn’t look particularly tango-ey, but Visa had told me on one pub evening that tango was more about feeling than steps. “Feeling. Yes?” she had said with gusto. This was the passion of the dance I was watching, then. Dad had told me in the car that tango was Allan’s hobby, it’s what got him out the house, like his physio. I looked at Dad, and he was playing some sassy chords on the piano, watching the two of them become one with the dance. He didn’t do anything else. He just sat there, watching them get on with it. I finished one of my Stellas, and later on I thought to myself that he looked like a drooping bunch of flowers in a vase, half dead. A bit sad, maybe. A bit lacking. I was quite proud of myself for thinking of that. It felt very grown up.

Two days later we were having a back garden beer, Dad and I. The garden had changed, and where a swingset once stood there was now a very wholesome vegetable plot. Beyond that was a washing line. It was one of those washing lines with one pole in the ground, and it folded out like an upside down pyramid. You could spin it around for ease of pegging/unpegging. I looked at the washing line and remembered my eight year old self playing by it. I had been playing with a football. I was staying with him for a few weeks or so over the summer. I was out there, by myself, with the football. But I liked to pretend I was playing with all the other children I knew from school. Kids who were actually busy with their own friendship groups or who called me poofty boy by the wildlife pond. But when I was playing with them by myself they were all like, “I did not see this coming! We have not appreciated your serious skills! Hey guys, check out this Baller!” and none of them called me a poofty boy by the wildlife pond.  

I had devised a game where you had to throw the ball into the opened up washing line to score a point. Dad came outside just as I was about to land the sickest shot from ten feet away, the shot which was going to blow George and his gang away, and was going to make Sadia and Carrie-Ann think I was total boyfriend material. He asked me if I wanted anything to eat.

And I really don’t know what came over me, but I said something along the lines of “I’m playing a game. We have to get the ball off each other and get it in the net. Do you want to play?”                          

“Oh, right!” was something like he said “Yes alright then, I will”. I’d never played a game with Dad before, and we were both a bit hesitant. Like, do we just…start, or what? I chucked the ball at the line and missed, and he grabbed it. We ran around the garden, playing the game. He scored a point. I scored a point.  At one point he wrestled me to the ground to get the ball off me, and then helped me up. I remember laughing and smiling, being out of breath. I was tense, too. How did things like this come to a logical end? Did, like, the session finish?  Was there a way for this to end without Dad having to just be really rude? Like: “I’m sorry Joe, but I need to stop doing this at this point and go back to my day. You are welcome to continue though.” How did it work? After approximately fifteen minutes it mercifully started raining, and we went inside. It was the only time we ever played the game.

Sitting and having a beer with my dad that last week was the last time I looked at the garden, or indeed spent any time with him. Halfway through our drink Visa came out of the stargazing conservatory doors, and she was wearing a floor length lacy white gown, a white bonnet and silky white gloves. She was carrying a large wicker hamper, and she put the hamper down and pulled out a silver teapot. “I am English lady at tea,” she said, and she raised the teapot in the air. Then she laid the patio table for a country manor high tea, and started demanding a photoshoot. I went inside.

The next day I was due to go home. I woke up that morning to find that I’d drunk too much and pissed the blow up bed. I put my soggy boxers in a plastic bag, and I covered the damp sheet with my duvet and left it to fester.

I hardly spoke to dad after that week. There was no reason to most of the time. I rang him twice to ask for money, once to say merry Christmas can I have some money and once to tell him I’d just left rehab. In 2018 I had written to him to tell him he was a cunt and I wanted to burn his house down. “Past wounds” with my Father had become a significant part of my “Life Story” by that point, and I thought that sending such a horrible letter might activate a Life Event in some way, some dramatic finale.

Dad has always had his settings such that I can’t find him on Facebook, so I have to log in as my mum to see his profile. Him and Visa quote Oscar Wilde and Shakespeare sonnets on each other’s pages. Visa’s profile has about 64 photo albums. They’re all called things like “Casserole dishes on the patio”, “Beauty In Autumn”, “Sensuous mermaid has adventure”.  Her name isn’t actually Visa Skank. All the photo albums are silly and innocuous. When I’m drunk, or self pitying, or feeling like a victim, or all of the above I sometimes find myself thinking about the game me and Dad played with the washing line and the football.

[arenteiro-blr-blog]

FACEBOOK SPONSORED STORY HATERS & SPAMMERS

FACEBOOK SPONSORED STORY HATERS & SPAMMERS

Facebook has become a useful tool for content marketers who want to get their message in front of a new audience. Unfortunately, this conflicts with many Facebook spammers who have decided Facebook should be free of any advertising.

I thought I’d share something that you should prepare for if you do decide to use Facebook as a marketing tool with your business. Download Bhai khata book software for PC

I’m also going to introduce you to a bunch of people just like Bill. Bill is one happy Facebook user; he also enjoys long walks along the beach where he enjoys his retirement.

There isn’t much that Bill isn’t happy about – until he sees your ad of course. When that happens, he’s going to send you a message – something like this; Early Pregnancy Symptoms First signs you Might be Pregnant Kidspot

Now I know at this point, a number of you are feeling intimidated. I mean, take a look at the stare-down Bill is having with the bacon at the end of his fork! Who would want to enter into a staring contest with this man? Not me that’s for sure.

But why the hate and specifically, what do rats have to do with it? Well, we found quite a few people just like Death Stare Bill who wasn’t happy with our ads, so we thought we best warn you what might happen if you choose to use Facebook in your marketing mix. Download Netflix Mod APK Latest Version+ Premium Access + 4K Video.

We’ll share more of our fan mail later, but for now, you need to ask yourself an important question.

WHY USE FACEBOOK ANYWAY?

One of the great things about Facebook marketing is your ability to target your audience based on a wide range of factors. These are;

Location – right down to the cities you want to target, or you can run campaigns at a state or country level.

Age – Choose who you target according to age.

Gender – Men, Women or both?

Precise Interests - 

Broad Categories - World’s 10 Most Romantic Honeymoon Destinations

Connections – You can advertise to Anyone, Only people connected to your business, or the opposite, people not connected to your business. But there’s also the ability to use Advanced connection targeting, where you can target people connected to your events, apps or pages. Reason for mulching your garden.

Relationship status – All, Single, In a Relationship, Married, Engaged, Not Specified

Language - English, etc…

Education Level – In High School, In College, College Graduate or Anyone

Workplaces – Target someone based on their previous employment.

SO WHAT DID TYPICAL BUSINESS ADVERTISE THAT UPSET SO MANY FACEBOOK USERS?

We have been running small low budget campaigns when we publish a new podcast. This helps us get the word out about our podcast along with reaching out to those interested in business, leadership, digital marketing and how-to-guides.

If you ended up on our targeting, you would have seen a small ad in the right-hand side similar to this;

But we also wanted to run some sponsored stories. These are more personal and can be highly effective. Essentially, if one of your Facebook friends likes something, you can find out about it if the business advertises it using these methods.  DHOOM-3 the Game for Windows 7/8/10 PC/DHOOM 3 Game Download

We had a terrific response. Each day, more people LIKED our sponsored post, plus we now have 69 LIKES on our Facebook fan page – up from 12 before we began the campaign 3 weeks ago.

We’ve also had new subscribers to our email newsletter along with new subscribers to the podcast on iTunes.

All good from our end – spending on average $10 a day.

But we did get some Facebook haters.

HATERS AND SPAMMERS ON FACEBOOK

Facebook Tommy got the ball rolling… Onya Tommy!

Tommy looks like a cool enough guy, and he’s a fireman which means he is out serving the community day by day. Awesome stuff Tommy the tank engine!

By night, he spreads Internet spam and becomes an online menace.

Ok so that’s not very aggressive, just annoying that is gets added to your timeline – especially when other Facebook users have actually LIKED your sponsored post and found it useful.

Brett thought Tommy’s comment wasn’t to the point, so he thought he’d explain the sentiment he felt, by sending us multiple spam centipedes.

Facebook Alan, however, was much more to the point. Forget spam – he just wanted to share his disdain for anyone who makes Facebook viable as a business by advertising on the platform.

It gives you a funny feeling when someone point-blank tells you where to go. It actually takes you a bit by surprise that someone who doesn’t even know you treats you this way. So, we took a closer look at Alan’s Facebook page and found out he’s a big fan of the 1980′s game Defender – but unfortunately for Alan, he really sucks and only has a high score of 10,000.

That’s pretty lame. When I was 9, my highest score was closer to 75,000 Alan. You might want to spend a bit more time playing on your Atari without being distracted by your Facebook feed.

And here is where we meet Facebook Chris.

Based on Chris’ profile picture, we can only assume he suffers from Dwarfism. Which probably explains his small man syndrome when he fired up his little belly and wrote this flaming post;

It’s a shame he’s a role model to his daughter. I wonder how she’ll feel when she sees her dad posting things like this on Facebook. Oh well. Sadly, while Chris doesn’t like Typical Business, he does like Lego. Download Voot App for PC/Laptop Windows 7/8/10

Now, we didn’t strategically target Lego lovers, so I’m not sure how Chris managed to see our sponsored posts. Nevertheless, now we know there are a few Lego fans out there that don’t want to hear about business while they’re playing in Lego land, we can add them as a profile of who not to target in our campaigns.

Facebook Christopher returns the favor back to us, even though we didn’t actually spam him, he does spam us; BLACKMART ALPHA APK Download Latest Version

Sometimes, you get your demographic totally wrong – and when that happens, expect Jim the Bum to appear;

There’s something profound when a Bum gives you marketing advice. We’re trying to channel our Chi to find out just what this means, but for now we’re going to have to disagree with Jim’s wise words. After all, there’s a good chance talking about business with a bum is going to get them upset. How to fix keyboard keys that are not working

No Mates Graham put us in our place – and had us really concerned that his social influence would negatively affect our brand forever – and totally shut down our business;

He’s never going to deal with any business that intrudes on his Facebook page (erm… including Facebook?). We’d be more worried about this if he had a significant circle of friends, but since he only has 13 (half the population of Tasmania) we’re not that worried.

Here’s hippie Greg – giving us all the YO PEACE BROTHER sign… He’s a pacifist and loves sipping tea around a bonfire with good friends.

So we were as surprised as anyone when Greg cut off his dreadlocks and got in our face with this;

Greg’s profile also includes this great Karma picture;

My guess is Karma will send him a stranger in the street to abuse him next time he wears a brand name on his T-shirt – “Get your fucking advertising out of my face”. Disadvantages of using mobile phones

We also ran this ad on Facebook recently;

And it was offensive to some;

Unfortunately for Murray, we couldn’t see how the ad was offensive, so we just had to assume he was looking at a different offensive ad. He does look quite old, so it’s a safe bet he forgot what ad he was looking at that offended him.

All of the above responses came when we specifically targeted our ads to men that also suited a profile of business owners or showed an interest in leadership or digital marketing. So, in our next lot of sponsored ads, we decided we’d like to target the same demographic, except this time we would only target women.

Would the women be as angry or as aggressive as the men on Facebook?

Well after almost a week of advertising to women only, we can report only 1 complaint coming from Deb. What is vitamin A /Vitamin A Function in The Body

Deb’s a little psycho, to say the least. She flies right off the deep end over an ad, on a free platform that she doesn’t pay to use. I wonder if she feels the same way when ads air on free to air television. Or perhaps when she’s driving to work listening to the radio. How about when she drives past a billboard on the side of a street. Does she look like a psycho woman with Tourette syndrome every time an ad comes on? 

Why do Facebook users feel they have the ‘right’ to bypass advertising? After all, almost every single web site now has some kind of advertising or overtly displays a corporate message. KineMaster App Download New version PC and Android

If you’re considering Facebook advertising, be aware that some people won’t like it. They’ll go out of their way to tell you. I wouldn’t be discouraged, you’ll never please everyone all of the time. For Typical Business, we’ve now connected with some amazing people who appreciate the time we take to create interesting content. We, in turn, appreciate those people giving us positive feedback. What is LinkedIn?’ How Does LinkedIn Work?

Whatever the case, share your thoughts below on Facebook advertising – is it good for business or is it damaging?

[bluedraggy]

Beatrice Santello Part 2 #10

Image by KyleStudios. I reformatted it a bit, but as a guy searching the internet for Bea pictures to go here, this little comic struck a chord with me. :) It's probably excessive as an intro pic, esp. when the chapter's kinda long too, but wth.

The next two weeks were the oddest Bea had ever experienced. At first it was fairly quiet. The newspapers ran a story on the recovery of the bodies of six missing people, some of which were children, from the old copper mine. No mention of foul play was made in that first report, but the circumstances were obvious to anyone paying attention. Next came the news cameras and crews. They descended on the police first, of course - primarily the police chief who had little to say beyond that it was an active, ongoing investigation. Most left soon after but a few were seen around town days after the initial news broke.

For the first time in living memory, Possum Springs became the focus of a national news story. Speculation on the major networks ran wild, generally centered around expectations that there was a serial killer on the loose. However, the police chief downplayed that aspect, saying their investigation indicated there was no longer any danger to the public. Meanwhile, both state and federal law enforcement vehicles were seen in town. But so far no one had asked Bea or any of her friends anything about it.

She almost started to hope that their involvement in the story wouldn’t be revealed. Meanwhile business was booming all around Possum Springs. During one evening at the Taco Buck, Bea and Mae had a good laugh over the complaints they overheard from the newcomers about the lack of cell phone service.

“Welcome to Possum Springs, gentlemen!” Mae said to them as they left, but Bea scowled at her.

“What? I’m just welcoming the newcomers,” Mae said, feigning indignation.

As they walked back down the street, they saw Mr. Penderson coming towards them.

“Mae Borowski. I could have guessed you’d have something to do with this!”

“Me? What do I…”

“Saw it on the news. Yup, your days here in Possum Springs are numbered now, missy! About time too.”

Mae looked at Bea and they went back to Mae’s house.

“Mae?” her father called from the front room.

“Yeah. I’m here. Bea’s with me. What’s up?”

“Did you know you were on the news, dear?” Mrs. Borowski asked, unusually sitting on the couch with her husband.

“No. What did they say?”

“Some investigative journalist says you and Bea and some other unnamed kids found the bodies. Why would they say that, Mae? You haven’t been back in that mine have you?”

Mae turned to Bea.

“You better go, Bea.”

“Yeah. Good luck…”

Bea closed the door behind her and went back to her apartment. Her dad was watching TV too. It seemed like everyone was constantly watching TV these days.

“Bea? You were on TV. I think they figured it out. Said you and Mae discovered the bodies.”

“Yeah. I thought somebody might squeal. Some investigative reporter probably just paid off a cop to talk.”

“Well, do you want to close the Pickaxe? If you don’t, it’s a sure bet there’ll be lots of people trying to talk to you.”

Bea considered it. If she closed, she could avoid a lot of hassle. But the real question was her reputation. If she closed the store it might appear she was hiding. She would be hiding.

“No. I’ll go in like regular. We did nothing wrong. Except trespassing I suppose.”

“Okay. If you think that’s best.”

Later, when her father had gone to sleep, Bea opened her laptop. Mae had messaged her, as well as Angus. Germ wasn’t on IM.

“You going to open tomorrow?” was Mae’s question.

“Yeah,” she responded. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Good luck,” May sent back a little later.

Angus’ message was similar. She told him she’d keep him, Gregg and Germ’s names out of it for her part, but who knows where they’d gotten Bea and Mae’s names from anyway.

“It might not matter. Bea. But thanks. I don’t know if we want to be outed by the press, you know?”

“Why the fuck would they care?” she typed back.

“No idea. But they do.”

“Well, anyway they won’t hear your names from me.”

Mae’s icon began blinking.

“Can I come over?”

“Better not Mae. Now that our names are out there, people probably will be watching now.”

“Yeah. You’re right. Jeeze, there are probably people outside my house right now! Hold on…”

A few minutes passed, and Bea peeked out her own window. She didn’t see anyone or any news trucks in front of her building though.

“There’s a black van parked across the street, Bea.”

“Mae, that’s Mr. Salvi’s van, isn’t it? He always parks it there.”

Brief delay, then Mae sent back, “Oh. Yeah. It is.”

“Talk to you tomorrow Mae. You might want to stay in though. I told Gregg and Angus we wouldn’t mention them. Probably not a good idea to drop in on them till this blows over.”

“How long do you think that’ll be?”

Bea shrugged reflexively, realizing the gesture was lost to IM.

“No idea. But probably no more than a week or so. News stories die fast.”

“Hope so. Goodnight Bea.”

“Goodnight Mae.”

Bea closed her laptop and looked at the open window, then down at herself. She put on her loose shift that served as her nightgown, then lowered and closed the blinds. Just in case.

She was happy to see no strangers were waiting for her at the Ol’ Pickaxe. She opened the business as normal. Germ came by a little later but she sent him home, telling him the latest. They didn’t have any TVs at his house, so he didn’t know about her and Mae’s identification as having found the bodies.

“In fact, Germ, stay home this week, why don’t you?”

“Got that shipment coming in tomorrow. You sure?”

“Yeah. Just for a little while, till this blows over.”

“Okay. Good luck, Bea!”

Of course, it couldn’t last. The first reporter came in around mid morning. She knew he was a reporter by his clothes, but also the cameraman that tagged along with him was hard to miss.

“Are you Bea Santello?” he asked, stepping up to the counter. Some regular customers were in the store, but they quickly left - obviously not wanting to be on camera.

She scowled at him. “Is this the Ol’ Pickaxe? Where I work every fucking day of my life? Yeah? Then I must be Bea. Waddayawant?”

“Is it true you and a friend found the bodies in the mine?”

“Yeah. We did.”

“Why were you in an old abandoned mine?”

Bea saw another customer walk in, take one look at the cameraman, and walk back out.

“Goddammit, you’re hurting my business.”

“Sorry Ms. Santello. We won’t take long.”

“You’ll take as long as you can fucking get. I know how it works. And I’m not MIZZZ Santello. I am Miss Santello. You’re in Possum Springs now, bucko. Wind your social clock back twenty years and you’ll get it.”

The door opened again. Another reporter. And cameraman.

“Oh fuck. How many of you are there?!”

The first reporter turned around and shook hands with the new one, a frankly beautiful fox.

“There’s only us two camera crews in town, Ms Santello,” said the newcomer. “Though there might be more coming if something new breaks. But it’s our job. We don’t mean to be pests but… it’s pretty much a requirement.”

Bea frowned and stepped out from behind the counter, walking between the reporters to the front door.

“That’s Miss Santello. If I’m going to be on TV, might as well get it right. I’m not married, so I prefer Miss. Got it? It may not be PC, but it’s PS. Possum Springs.”

“Are you kicking us out?” asked the first reporter.

Bea paused at the door, but just flipped the sign over to Closed.

“Would it do any good?”

Even the cameramen chuckled at that.

“Probably not.”

“Look, I don’t have much to tell, but if you’ll do me a favor, I’ll give you all the time you want. You say there’s only two of you reporters in town, right?”

“Right. For now.”

“Okay, if you promise not to bug Mae, I’ll sit down with you and you can film-away.”

“That’s Mae Borowski, right?”

“Yes. She’s my friend and I’d rather her not be hassled by you guys.”

The reporters looked at each other and agreed, so Bea locked up the door and took them back to the warehouse. There she explained that her and Mae had often explored the mine - just a way to kill time in a quiet town. Then about a year ago the cave-in happened and some people were killed so they boarded up the mine and put new fencing around it. So Bea and Mae couldn’t get in.

Then a few days ago she happened to go by the old mine and saw a tree limb had fallen down over the fence. So her and Mae went down to check out the cave-in. While down there they went down a deep pit that had been covered over by a fallen slab, and there they found more bodies. Including that of a friend of theirs.

That led to new questions about Casey, and Bea felt on firmer ground on that subject, so she told them about how he’d gone missing not long before the cave-in.

Finally, they seemed to be satisfied and she was able to shoo them out of the store and reopen. Eventually customers returned, and some asked her about the reporters.

“Yeah, you might as well know. Me and Mae went down in the mine and found them. Just exploring really,” was her typical response.

Finally the first day came to a close and she went home directly. While cooking dinner with her dad, she heard her own voice from the TV. Both her and her dad dropped what they were doing and rushed back to the couch.

She was on TV. Not just a picture, but her interview. Bea wasn’t sure what to make of that. They even included the “Miss” part. She wasn’t sure if she came off as a bitch or not, but the editing appeared to be sympathetic at least. Amazingly it was over at no more than a minute considering the amount of time they’d spent with her. They didn’t even mention Mae by name though, and that made her happy.

“Well, MISS Santello,” her dad said after the segment was over, “maybe now you’ll know better than to explore in dangerous places like that! Bea, what if something had happened? I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Sorry dad,” she said with sincerity. “I won’t do it again. I hope.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I know my daughter at all. I never thought of you as the thrill-seeking type.”

“I’m not. Normally. It was… an unusual circumstance.”

“Well I hope so. I guess you’re a celebrity now.”

“I guess so. For Possum Springs. Maybe they’ll erect a statue.”

“Don’t put it past em. They’re doing a hatchet job on the police chief. Incompetent bungler, not having found them after the cave-in.”

“I don’t think they’re incompetent, dad. Well, I’m off to bed.” “Give me a kiss first, Bea.”

She did so, then climbed into bed with her laptop. Even Gregg sent her a congratulatory message on her interview. Mae acted mad that she hadn’t been mentioned by name, but it was a ruse. In the end she thanked Bea for keeping her out of it.

The next day, though, the real strangeness started. No reporters came, but she met people from Possum Springs she’d never talked to in person before. Even the mayor dropped by. It seemed a little facetime on national TV had indeed made her a minor celebrity and for a few days she had to turn down multiple invitations to dinner. She even received some odd fan-mail and more than one marriage proposal a few days later!

But then one day Casey’s parents came into the store. They thanked her profusely for finding their son, but she wasn’t at all sure how to respond.

“I really liked Casey,” she told them. “He had his problems. You know that. But he was a genuinely good guy. I miss him.”

“We do too, Bea,” said Mr. Hartley. “We’re holding his funeral at the cemetery tomorrow at noon. We’d really like you to come, if you can.”

“I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it. I have some friends… we all knew Casey. Is it okay to invite them?”

“We would appreciate it, Bea. This has been hard for us. Very hard. But at least we know now. I want you to know how much it means to us. Thank you Bea.”

Bea’s eyes started to water again. Casey’s father looked so much like him, it hurt. She showed them out and watched them walk up the street.

“That’s what Casey would have looked like, when he got old,” she thought. “He’ll never grow old now.”

But she didn’t dwell on the sadness. She had helped his family, in a way. They wouldn’t go on hoping and praying for a phone call that would never come. They would have a place in the cemetery to talk to him and remember him, like her mom. It was a sad place, but not an evil place. She would tell the gang about the funeral tonight. Maybe after the funeral, they’d all get together for another band practice tomorrow, in his honor.

[maximelebled]

Growing Pains - Zelda, Tony Hawk, The Sims, games and related memories from my formative years

This blog post is about my personal history with video games, how they influenced me growing up, how they sometimes helped me, and more or less an excuse to write about associated memories with them.

This is a very straightforward intro, because I’ve had this post sitting as a draft for ages, trying to glue all of it cohesively, but I’m not a very good writer, so I never really succeeded. Some of these paragraphs date back at least one year. 

And I figured I should write about a lot of this as long as I still remember clearly, or not too inaccurately. Because I know that I don’t remember my earliest ever memory. I only remember how I remember it. So I might as well help my future self here, and give myself a good memento.

Anyway, the post is a kilometer long, so it’ll be under this cut.

My family got a Windows 95 computer when I was 3 years old. While I don’t remember this personally, I’m told that one of the first things I ever did with it was mess up with the BIOS settings so badly that dad’s computer-expert friend had to be invited to repair it. (He stayed for dinner as a thank you.)

It was that off-white plastic tower, it had a turbo button, and even a 4X CD reader! Wow! And the CRT monitor must have been... I don’t remember what it was, actually. But I do once remember launching a game at a stupidly high resolution: 1280x1024! And despite being a top-down 2D strategy, it ran VERY slowly. Its video card was an ATI Rage. I had no idea what that really meant that at the time, but I do recall that detail nonetheless.

Along with legitimately purchased games, the list of which I can remember:

Tubular Worlds

Descent II

Alone in the Dark I & III

Lost Eden

Formula One (not sure which game exactly)

Heart of Darkness

(and of course the famous Adibou/Adi series of educational games)

... we also had what I realize today were cracked/pirated games, from the work-friend that had set up the family computer. I remember the following:

Age of Empires I (not sure about that one, I think it might have been from a legitimate “Microsoft Plus!” disc)

Nightmare Creatures (yep, there was a PC port of that game)

Earthworm Jim (but without any music)

The Fifth Element

Moto Racer II

There are a few other memorable games, which were memorable in most aspects, except their name. I just cannot remember their name. And believe me, I have looked. Too bad! Anyway, in this list, I can point out a couple games that made a big mark on me.

First, the Alone in the Dark trilogy. It took me a long time to beat them. I still remember the morning I beat the third game. I think it was in 2001 or 2002.

There was a specific death in it which gave me nightmares for a week. You shrink yourself to fit through a crack in a wall, but it’s possible to let a timer run out—or fall down a hole—and this terrifying thing happens (16:03). I remember sometimes struggling to run the game for no reason; something about DOS Extended Memory being too small.

I really like the low-poly flat-shaded 3D + hand-drawn 2D style of the game, and it’d be really cool to see something like that pop up again. After the 8-bit/16-bit trend, there’s now more and more games paying tribute to rough PS1-style 3D, so maybe this will happen? Maybe I’ll have to do it myself? Who knows!

Second, Lost Eden gave me a taste for adventure and good music, and outlandish fantasy universes. Here’s the intro to the game:

A lot of the game is very evocative, especially its gorgeous soundtrack, and you spend a lot of time trekking through somewhat empty renders of landscapes. Despite being very rough early pre-rendered 3D, those places were an incredible journey in my young eyes. If you have some time, I suggest either playing the game (it’s available on Steam) or watching / skimmering through this “longplay” video. Here are some of my personal highlights: 25:35, 38:05, 52:15 (love that landscape), 1:17:20, 1:20:20 (another landscape burned in my neurons), 2:12:10, 2:55:30, 3:01:18. (spoiler warning)

But let’s go a couple years back. Ever since my youngest years, I was very intrigued by creation. I filled entire pocket-sized notebooks with writing—sometimes attempts at fiction, sometimes daily logs like the weather reports from the newspaper, sometimes really bad attempts at drawing. I also filled entire audio tapes over and over and OVER with “fake shows” that my sister and I would act out. The only thing that survived is this picture of 3-year-old me with the tape player/recorder.

It also turns out that the tape recorder AND the shelf have both survived.

(I don’t know if it still works.)

On Wednesday afternoons (school was off) and on the week-ends, I often got to play on the family computer, most of the time with my older brother, who’s the one who introduced me to... well... all of it, really. (Looking back on the games he bought, I can say he had very good tastes.)

Moto Racer II came with a track editor. It was simple but pretty cool to play around with. You just had to make the track path and elevation; all the scenery was generated by the game. You could draw impossible tracks that overlapped themselves, but the editor wouldn’t let you save them. However, I found out there was a way to play/save them no matter what you did, and I got to experiment with crazy glitches. 85 degree inclines that launched the bike so high you couldn’t see the ground anymore? No problem. Tracks that overlapped themselves several times, causing very strange behaviour at the meeting points? You bet. That stuff made me really curious about how video games worked. I think a lot of my initial interest in games can be traced back to that one moment I figured out how to exploit the track editor...

There was also another game—I think it was Tubular Worlds—that came on floppy disks. I don’t remember what exactly lead me to do it, but I managed to edit the text that was displayed by the installer... I think it was the license agreement bit of it. That got me even more curious as to how computers worked.

Up until some time around my 13th or 14th birthday, during summer break (the last days of June to the first days of September for French pupils), my sister and I would always go on vacation at my grandparents’ home.

The very first console game I ever played was The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past on my cousin’s Super Nintendo, who also usually stayed with us. Unlike us, he had quite a few consoles available to him, and brought a couple along. My first time watching and playing this game was absolutely mind-blowing to me. An adventure with a huge game world to explore, so many mysterious things at every corner. “Why are you a pink rabbit now?” “I’m looking for the pearl that will help me not be that.”

Growing up and working in the games industry has taken the magic out of many things in video games... and my curiosity for the medium (and its inner workings) definitely hasn’t helped. I know more obscure technical trivia about older games than I care to admit. But I think this is what is shaping my tastes in video games nowadays... part of it is that I crave story-rich experiences that can bring me back to a, for lack of a better term, “child-like” wonderment. And I know how weird this is going to sound, but I don’t really enjoy “pure gameplay” games as much for that reason. Some of the high-concept ones are great, of course (e.g. Tetris), but I usually can’t enjoy others without a good interwoven narrative. I can’t imagine I would have completed The Talos Principle had it consisted purely of the puzzles without any narrative beats, story bits, and all that. What I’m getting at is, thinking about it, I guess I tend to value the “narrative” side of games pretty highly, because, to me, it’s one of the aspects of the medium that, even if distillable to some formulas, is inherently way more “vague” and “ungraspable”. You can do disassembly on game mechanics and figure out even the most obsure bits of weird technical trivia. You can’t do that to a plot, a universe, characters, etc. or at least nowhere near to the same extent.

You can take a good story and weave it into a number of games, but the opposite is not true. It’s easy to figure out the inner working of gameplay mechanics, and take the magic out of them, but it’s a lot harder to do that for a story, unless it’s fundamentally flawed in some way.

Video games back then seemed a lot bigger than they actually were.

I got Heart of Darkness as a gift in 1998 or 1999. We used to celebrate Christmas at my grandparents’, so I had to wait a few days to be back home, and to able to put the CD in the computer. But boy was it worth it! Those animated cutscenes! The amazing pixel art animations! The amazing and somewhat disturbing variety of ways in which you can die, most of which gruesome and mildly graphic! And of course, yet again... a strange and outlandish universe that just scratches my itch for it. Well, one of which that forged my taste for them.

I can’t remember exactly when it happened or what it was, but I do remember that at some point we visited some sort of... exposition? Exhibit? Something along those lines. And it had a board games & computer games section. The two that stick out in my mind were Abalone (of which I still have the box somewhere) and what I think was some sort of 2D isometric (MMO?) RPG. I wanna say it was Ultima Online but I recall it looking more primitive than that (it had small maps whose “void” outside them was a single blueish color). 

In my last two years of elementary school, there was one big field trip per year. They lasted two weeks, away from family. The first one was to the Alps. The second one was... not too far from where I live now, somewhere on the coast of Brittany! I have tried really hard to find out exactly where it was, as I remember the building and facilities really well, but I was never able to find it again. On a couple occasions, we went on a boat with some kind of... algae harvesters? The smell was extremely strong (burning itself into my memory) and made me sick. The reason I bring them up is because quite a few of my classmates had Game Boy consoles, most of them with, you know, all those accessories, especially the little lights. I remember being amazed at the transparent ones. Play was usually during the off-times, and I watched what my friends were up to, with, of course, a bit of jealousy mixed in. The class traveled by bus, and it took off in the middle of the night; something like 3 or 4 in the morning? It seemed like such a huge deal at the time! Now here I am, writing THESE WORDS at 03:00. Anyway, most of my classmates didn’t fall back asleep and those that had a Game Boy just started playing on them. One of my classmates, however, handed me his whole kit and I got to do pretty much what I wanted with it, with the express condition that I would not overwrite any of his save files. I remember getting reasonably far in Pokémon before I had to give it back to him and my progress was wiped.

During the trip to the Alps, I remember seeing older kids paying for computer time; there was a row of five computers in a small room... and they played Counter-Strike. I had absolutely no idea what it was, and I would forget about it until the moment I’m writing these words, but I was watching with much curiosity.

The first time I had my own access to console games was in 2001. The first Harry Potter film had just come out, and at Christmas, I was gifted a Game Boy Advance with the first official game. I just looked it up again and good god, it’s rougher than I remember. The three most memorable GBA games which I then got to play were both Golden Sun(s) and Sword of Mana... especially the latter, with its gorgeous art direction. My dad had a cellphone back then, and I remember sneakily going on there to look up a walkthrough for a tricky part of Golden Sun’s desert bit. Cellphones had access to something called “WAP” internet... very basic stuff, but of course still incredible to me back then.

I eventually got to play another Zelda game on my GBA: Link’s Awakening DX. I have very fond memories of that one because I was bed-ridden with a terrible flu. My fever ran so high that I started having some really funky dreams, delirious half-awake hallucinations/feelings, and one night, I got so hot that I stumbled out of bed and just laid down against the cold tile of the hallway. At 3 in the morning! A crazy time! (Crazy for 11-year-old me.)

(The fever hallucinations were crazy. My bedroom felt like it was three times at big, and I was convinced that a pack of elephants were charging at me from the opposite corner. The “night grain” of my vision felt sharper, amplified. Every touch, my sore body rubbing against the bed covers felt like it was happening twice as much. You know that “Heavy Rain with 300% facial animation” video? Imagine that, but as a feverish feeling. The dreams were on another level entirely. I could spend pages on them, but suffice to say that’s when I had my first dream where I dreamed of dying. There were at least two, actually. The first one was by walking down a strange, blueish metal corridor, then getting in an elevator, and then feeling that intimate convinction that it was leading me to passing over. The second one was in some Myst-like world, straight out of a Roger Dean cover, with some sort of mini-habitat pods floating on a completely undisturbed lake. We were just trapped in them. It just felt like some kind of weird afterlife.)

I also eventually got to play the GBA port of A Link To The Past. My uncle was pretty amused by seeing me play it, as he’d also played the original on SNES before I’d even been born. I asked him for help with a boss (the first Dark World one), but unfortunately, he admitted he didn’t remember much of the game.

We had a skiing holiday around this time. I don’t remember the resort’s or the town’s name, but its sights are burned in my memory. Maybe it’s because, shortly after we arrived, and we went to the ski rental place, I almost fainted and puked on myself, supposedly from the low oxygen. It also turned out that the bedroom my parents had rented unexpectedly came with a SNES in the drawer under the tiny TV. The game: Super Mario World. I got sick at one point and got to stay in and play it. This was also the holiday where I developed a fondness for iced tea, although back then the most common brand left an awful aftertaste in your mouth that just made you even more thirsty.

We got a new PC in December of 2004. Ditching the old Windows 98 SE (yep, the OS had been upgraded in... 2002, I think?). Look at how old-school this looks. The computer office room was in the basement. Even with the blur job that I applied to the monitor for privacy reasons, you can still tell that this is the XP file explorer:

A look at what the old DSLR managed to capture on the shelf reveals some more of the games that were available to me back then: a bunch of educational software, The Sims 2, and SpellForce Gold. 

I might be misremembering but I think they were our Christmas gifts for that year; we both got to pick one game. I had no idea what I wanted, really, but out of all the boxes at (what I think was) the local Fnac store, it was SpellForce that stood out to me the most. Having watched Lord of the Rings the year prior might have been a factor. I somewhat understood Age of Empires years before that, but SpellForce? Man, I loved the hell out of SpellForce. Imagine a top-down RPG that can also be played from a third-person perspective. And with the concept of... hero units... wait a second... now that reminds me of Dota.

Imagine playing a Dota hero with lots of micro-management and being able to build a whole base on new maps. And sometimes visiting very RPG-ish sections (my favorites!) with very little top-down strategy bits, towns, etc. like Siltbreaker. I guess this game was somewhat like an alternate, single-player Dota if you look at it from the right angle. (Not the third-person one.)

I do remember being very excited when I found out that it, too, came with a level editor. I never figured it out, though. I only ever got as far as making a nice landscape for my island, and that was it!

A couple weeks after, it was Christmas; my sister and I got our first modern PC game: The Sims 2. It didn’t run super well—most games didn’t, because the nVidia GeForce FX 5200 wasn’t very good. But that didn’t stop me or my sister from going absolutely nuts with the game. This video has the timestamp of 09 January 2005, and it is the first video I’ve ever made with a computer. Less than two weeks after we got the game, I was already neck-deep in creating stuff.

Not that it was particularly good, of course. This is a video that meets all of the “early YouTube Windows Movie Maker clichés”.

Speaking of YouTube, I did register an account there pretty early on, in August of 2006. I’ve been through all of it. I remember every single layout change. I also started using Sony Vegas around that time. It felt so complex and advanced back then! And I’m still using it today. Besides Windows, Vegas Pro is very likely to be the piece of software that I’ve been using for the longest time.

I don’t have a video on YouTube from before 2009, because I decided to delete all of them out of embarassment. They were mostly Super Mario 64 machinima. It’s as bad as it sounds. The reason I bring that up right now, though, is that it makes the “first” video of my account the last one I made with the Sims 2.

But before I get too far ahead with my early YouTube days, let me go backwards a bit. We got hooked up to the Internet some time in late 2005. It was RTC (dialup), 56 kbps. my first steps into the Internet led me to the Cube engine. Mostly because back then my dad would purchase computer magazines (which were genuinely helpful back then), and came with CDs of common downloadable software for those without Internet connections. One of them linked to Cube. I think it was using either this very same screenshot, or a very similar one, on the same map.

The amazing thing about Cube is not only that it was open-source and moddable, but had map editing built-in the game. The mode was toggled on with a single key press. You could even edit maps cooperatively with other people. Multiplayer mapping! How cool is that?! And the idea of a game that enabled so much creation was amazing to me, so I downloaded it right away. (Over the course of several hours, 30 MiB being large for dialup.)

I made lots of bad maps that never fulfilled the definition of “good level” or “good gameplay”, not having any idea how “game design” meant, or what it even was. But I made places. Places that I could call my own. “Virtual homes”. I still distinctively remember the first map I ever made, even though no trace of it survives to this day. In the second smallest map size possible, I’d made a tower surrounded by a moat and a few smaller cozy towers, with lots of nice colored lighting. This, along with the distinctive skyboxes and intriguing music, made me feel like I’d made my home in a strange new world.

At some point later down the line, I made a kinda-decent singleplayer level. It was very linear, but one of the two lead developers of the game played it and told me he liked it a lot! Of course, half of that statement was probably “to be nice”, but it was really validating and encouraging. And I’m glad they were like that. Because I remember being annoying to some other mappers in the Sauerbraten community (the follow-up to Cube, more advanced technically), who couldn’t wrap their heads around my absolutely god awful texturing work and complete lack of level “design”. Honestly, sometimes, I actually kinda feel like trying to track a couple of them down and being like, “yeah, remember that annoying kid? That was me. Sorry you had to deal with 14-year-old me.”

At some point, I stumbled upon a mod called Cube Legends. It was a heavily Zelda-inspired “total conversion”; a term reserved for mods that are the moddiest mods and try to take away as much of the original foundation as possible. It featured lots of evocative MIDI music by the Norwegian composer Bjørn Lynne. Fun fact: the .mid files are still available officially from his website!

This was at the crossroad of many of my interests. It was yet another piece of the puzzle. As a quick side note, this is why Zelda is the first series that I name in the title of this post, even though I... never really thought of myself as a Zelda fan. It’s not that it’s one of the game series that I like the most, it’s just that, before I started writing this, I’d never realized how far-reaching its influence had been in my life, both in overt and subtle ways, especially during my formative years.

And despite how clearly unfinished, how much of a “draft” Cube Legends was, I could see what it was trying to do. I could see the author’s intent. And I’m still listening to Bjørn Lynne’s music today.

The Cube Engine and its forums were a big part of why I started speaking English so well. Compared to most French people, I mean. We’re notoriously bad with the English language, and so was I up until then. But having this much hands-on practice proved to be immensely valuable. And so, I can say that the game and its community have therefore had long-lasting impacts in my life.

I also tried out a bunch of N64 games via emulation, bringing me right back in that bedroom at my grandparents’ house, with my cousin. Though he did not have either N64 Zelda game back then.

The first online forum I ever joined was a Zelda fan site’s. There are two noteworthy things to say here:

It was managed by a woman who, during my stay in the community, graduated from her animation degree. At this stage I had absolutely no idea that this was going to be the line of work I would eventually pursue!

I recently ran into the former head moderator of the forums. (I don’t know when the community died.) One of the Dota players on my friends list invited him because I was like “hmm, I wanna go as 3, not as 2 players today”. His nickname very vaguely reminded me of something, a weird hunch I couldn’t place. Half an hour into the game, he said “hey Max... this might be a long shot, but did you ever visit [forum]?” and then I immediately yelled “OH MY GOD—IT IS YOU.” The world is a small place.

Access to the computer was sometimes tricky. I didn’t always have good grades, and of course, “punishment” (not sure the word is appropriate, hence the quotes, but you get the idea) often involved locking me out of the computer room. Of course, most times, I ended up trying to find the key instead. I needed my escape from the real world.  (You better believe it’s Tangent Time.)

I was always told I was the “smart kid”, because I “understood things faster” than my classmates. So they made me skip two grades ahead. This made me enter high school at nine years old. The consequences were awful (I was even more of the typical nerdy kid that wouldn’t fit in), and I wish it had never happened. Over the years, I finally understood: I wasn’t more intelligent. I merely had the chance to have been able to grow up with an older brother who’d instilled a sense of curiosity, critical thinking, and taste in books that were ahead of my age and reading level. This situation—and its opposite—is what I believe accounts for the difference in how well kids get to learn. It’s not innate talent, it’s not genetics (as some racists would like you to believe). It’s parenting and privilege.

And that’s why I’ll always be an outspoken proponent for any piece of media that tries to instill critical thinking and curiosity in its viewer, reader, or player.

But I digress.

Well, I’ve been digressing a lot, really, but games aren’t everything and after all, this post is about the context in which I played those games. Otherwise I reckon I would’ve just made a simple list.

I eventually got a Nintendo DS for Christmas, along with Mario Kart DS. My sister had gotten her own just around the time when it released... she had the Nintendogs bundle. We had also upgraded to proper ADSL, what I think was about a ~5 megabits download speed. The Nintendo DS supported wi-fi, which was still relatively rare compared to today. In fact, Nintendo sold a USB wireless adapter to help with that issue—our ISP-supplied modem-router did not have any wireless capabilities. I couldn’t get it the adapter work and I remember I got help from a really kind stranger who knew a lot about networking—to a point that it seemed like wizardry to me.

I remember I got a “discman” as a gift some time around that point. In fact, I still have it. Check out the stickers I put on it! I think those came from the Sims 2 DVD box and/or one of its add-ons.

I burned a lot of discs. In fact, in the stack of burned CDs/DVDs that I found (with the really bad Sims movies somewhere in there), I found at least three discs that had the Zelda album Hyrule Symphony burned in, each with different additional tracks. Some were straight-up MIDI files from vgmusic.com...! And speaking (again) of Zelda, when the Wii came out, Twilight Princess utterly blew my mind. I never got the game or the console, but damn did I yearn badly for it. I listened to the main theme of the game a lot, which didn’t help. I eventually got to play the first few hours at a friend’s place.

At some point, we’d upgraded the family computer to something with a bit more horsepower. It had a GeForce 8500 GT inside, which was eventually upgraded to a 9600 GT after the card failed for some reason. It could also dual-boot between XP and Vista. I stuck with that computer until 2011.

We moved to where I currently live in 2007. I’ve been here over a decade! And before we’d even fully finished unpacking, I was on the floor of the room that is now my office, with the computer on the ground and the monitor on a cardboard box, playing a pirated copy of... Half-Life! It was given to me by my cousin. It took me that long to find out about the series. It’s the first Valve game I played. I also later heard about the Orange Box, but mostly about Portal. Which I also pirated and played. I distinctly remember being very puzzled by the options menu: I thought it was glitched or broken, as changing settings froze the game. Turns out the Source engine had to chug for a little while, like a city car in countryside mud, as it reloaded a bunch of stuff. Patience is a virtue...

But then, something serious happened.

In the afternoon of 25 December 2007, I started having a bit of a dull stomach pain. I didn’t think much of it. Figured maybe I’d eaten too many Christmas chocolates and it’d go away. It didn’t. It progressively deteriorated into a high fever where I had trouble walking and my tummy really hurt; especially if you pressed on it. My parents tried to gently get me to eat something nice on New Year’s Eve, but it didn’t stay in very long. I could only feed myself with lemonade and painkiller. Eventually, the doctor decided I should get blood tests done as soon as possible. And I remember that day very clearly.

I was already up at 6:30 in the morning. Back then, The Daily Show aired on the French TV channel Canal+, so I was watching that, lying in the couch while waiting for my mom to get up and drive me to my appointment, at 7:00. It was just two streets away, but there was no way I could walk there. At around noon, the doctor called and told my mom: “get your son to the emergency room now.”

Long story short, part of my intestines nuked themselves into oblivion, causing acute peritonitis. To give you an idea, that’s something with a double-digit fatality rate. Had we waited maybe a day or two more, I would not be here writing this. They kind of blew up. I had an enormous abcess attached to a bunch of my organs. I had to be operated on with only weak local anaesthetics as they tried to start draining the abscess. It is, to date, by far the most painful thing that has ever happened to me. It was bad enough that the hospital doctor that was on my case told me that I was pretty much a case worthy to be in textbooks. I even had medical students come into my hospital room about it! They were very nice.

This whole affair lasted over a month. I became intimately familiar with TV schedules. And thankfully, I had my DS to keep me company. At the time, I was pretty big into the Tony Hawk DS games. They were genuinely good. They had extensive customization, really great replayability, etc. you get the idea. I think I even got pretty high on the online leaderboards at some point. I didn’t have much to do on some days besides lying down in pain while perfecting my scoring and combo strategies. I think Downhill Jam might’ve been my favorite.

My case was bad enough that they were unable to do something due to the sad state of my insides during the last surgery of my stay. I was told that I could come back in a few months for a checkup, and potentially a “cleanup” operation that would fix me up for good. I came back in late June of 2008, got the operation, and... woke up in my hospital room surrounded by, like, nine doctors, and hooked up to a morphine machine that I could trigger on command. Apparently something had gone wrong during the operation, but they never told me what. I wasn’t legally an adult, so they didn’t have to tell me. I suspect it’s somewhere in some medical files, but I never bothered to dig up through my parents’ archives, or ask the hospital. And I think I would rather not know. But anyway, that was almost three more weeks in the hospital. And it sucked even more that time because, you see, hospital beds do not “breathe” like regular beds do. The air can’t go through. Let’s say I’m intimately familiar with the smell of back sweat forever.

When I got out, my mom stopped by a supermarket on the way home. And that is when I bought The Orange Box, completely on a whim, and made my Steam account. Why? Because it was orange and stood out on the shelf.

(As a side note, that was the whole bit I started writing first, and that made me initially title this post “growing pains”. First, because I’m bad at titles. Second, because not that I didn’t have them otherwise (ow oof ouch my knees), but that was literally the most painful episode of my entire life thus far and it ended in a comically-unrelated, high-impact, life-changing decision. Just me picking up The Orange Box after two awful hospital stays... led me to where I am today.)

While I was recovering, I also started playing EarthBound! Another bit of a life-changer, that one. To a lesser extent, but still. I was immediately enamored by its unique tone. Giygas really really really creeped me out for a while afterwards though. I still get unsettled if I hear its noises sometimes.

I later bought Garry’s Mod (after convincing my mom that it was a “great creative toolbox that only cost ten bucks!”), and, well, the rest is history. By which I mean, a lot of my work and gaming activity since 2009 is still up and browsable. But there are still a few things to talk about.

In 2009, I bought my first computer with YouTube ad money: the Asus eee PC 1005HA-H. By modern standards, it’s... not very powerful. The processor in my current desktop machine is nearly 50 times as fast as its Atom N280. It had only one gigabyte of RAM, Windows 7 Basic Edition, and an integrated GPU barely worthy of the name; Intel didn’t care much for 3D in their chips back then. The GMA 945 didn’t even have hardware support for Transform & Lighting.

But I made it work, damn it. I made that machine run so much stuff. I played countless Half-Life and Half-Life 2 mods on it—though, due to the CPU overhead on geometry, some of those were trickier. I think one of the most memorable ones I played was Mistake of Pythagoras; very surreal, very rough, but I still remember it so clearly. I later played The Longest Journey on it, in the middle of winter. It was a very cozy and memorable experience. (And another one that’s an adventure wonderful outlandish alien universe. LOVE THOSE.)

I did more than playing games on it, though...

This is me sitting, sunburned on the nose, in an apartment room, on 06 August 2010. This was in the Pyrénées, at the border between France and Spain. We had a vacation with daily hiking. Some of the landscapes we visited reminded me very strongly of those from Lost Eden, way up the page...

So, you see, I had 3ds Max running on that machine. The Source SDK as well. Sony Vegas. All of it was slow; you bet I had to use some workarounds to squeeze performance out of software, and that I had to keep a close, watchful eye on RAM usage. But I worked on this thing. I really did! I animated this video’s facial animation bits (warning: this is old & bad) on the eee PC, during the evenings of the trip, when we were back at our accomodation. The Faceposer tool in the Source SDK really worked well on that machine.

I also animated an entire video solely on the machine (warning: also old and bad). It had to be rendered on the desktop computer... but every single bit of the animation was crafted on the eee PC.

I made it work.

Speaking of software that did not run well: around that time, I also played the original Crysis. The “but can it run Crysis?” joke was very much justified back then. I had to edit configuration files by hand so that I could run the game in 640x480... because I wanted to keep most of the high-end settings enabled. The motion blur was delicious, and it blew my mind that the effect made the game feel this smooth, despite wobbling around in the 20 to 30 fps range.

Alright. It’s time to finish writing this damn post and publish it at last, so I’m going to close it out by listing some more memories and games that I couldn’t work in up there.

Advance Wars. Strategy game on GBA with a top-down level editor. You better believe I was all over the editor right away.

BioShock. When we got the 2007 desktop computer, it was one of the first games I tried. Well, its demo, to be precise. Its tech and graphics blew my mind, enough that I saved up to buy the full game. This was before I had a Steam account; I got a boxed copy! I think it might have been the last boxed game I ever bought? It had a really nice metal case. The themes and political messages of the game flew way over my head, though.

Mirror’s Edge. The art direction was completely fascinating to me, and it introduced me to Solar Fields’ music; my most listened artist this decade, by a long shot.

L.A. Noire. I lost myself in its stories and investigations, and then, I did it all again, with my sister at the helm. I very rarely play games twice (directly or indirectly), which I figure is worth mentioning.

Zeno Clash. It was weird and full of soul, had cool music, and cool cutscenes. It inspired me a lot in my early animation days.

Skyward Sword. Yep, going back to Zelda on that one. The whole game was pretty good, and I’m still thinking about how amazing its art direction was. Look up screenshots of it running in HD on an emulator... it’s outstanding. But there’s a portion of the game that stands tall above the rest: the Lanayru Sand Sea. It managed to create a really striking atmosphere in many aspects, through and through. I still think about it from time to time, especially when its music comes on in shuffle mode.

Wandersong. A very recent pick, but it was absolutely a life-changing one. That game is an anti-depressant, a vaccine against cynicism, a lone bright and optimist voice.

I realize now this is basically a “flawed but interesting and impactful games” list. With “can establish its atmosphere very well” as a big criteria. (A segment of video games that is absolutely worth exploring.)

I don’t know if I’ll ever make my own video game. I have a few ideas floating around and I tried prototyping some stuff, though my limited programming abilities stood in my way. But either way, if it happens one day, I hope I’ll manage to channel all those years of games into the CULMINATION OF WHAT I LIKE. Something along those lines, I reckon.

[texanpeanut]

Community Based Training - A Day in the Life

This is another email from the beginning of my pre-service training, about what I was up to day-to-day in my community based training site. Enjoy!

October 22, 2017: 

A jaraama! 

That means hello in Pulafuta! Or literally, “you are praised.” This morning I returned to Thies from an 8-day with my Community Based Training host family. I really had a lot of fun during this visit, so I wanted to share a little bit more detail about my experiences and describe what my daily activities are in this mysterious "CBT". 

So, as I've mentioned before my family has five people - my dad (Amadou), my mom (Aisata), my 14 year old cousin (Aliu), my 2 year old little sister (Asiatu), and my 8 month old baby brother (Alfamaru). And me! My name is Fatimatu. We live in a small concrete house with a boutique (small shop selling things like soap, snacks, sugar, batteries, etc.) in the front. It's a very peaceful atmosphere. My family members are all very sweet and are very encouraging with my Pulafuta learning. My cousin loves to take my language books and teach me all the verbs. He's basically my own private tutor! 

Everyday I get out of bed at 6:45 to go for a run at 7:00. At first I was running at a nearby soccer stadium, but halfway through the visit I found an excellent bush path that led me into an open stand of enormous baobab trees - when I can upload pictures from my phone I will certainly share. I have fallen in love with baobabs. When I come back from my run, I take a bucket bath, which is really the highlight of the morning. I have a big bucket that I fill with water from the one spigot at our house, take it to the private bathing area, then use a small cup to pour water over myself. It's incredibly refreshing, and very eco friendly as I'm using a tiny fraction of the water I would use in a western style shower. After I bathe, I have breakfast with my cousin and sister. My dad doesn't eat breakfast with us because he wakes up very early to go to work as a mechanic. Breakfast is usually half a baguette, butter, and a tea called kinkiliba made with powdered milk. I eat a lot of bread in Senegal. 

Around 9:00 I head to language class at my LCF's host house. We sit on a mat together under a mango tree and three other PCTs and I use our maximum brain power to learn this language called Pulafuta. It's actually very fun for me to learn, but there are some aspects that are very challenging such as understanding the grammar and tenses and pronouns... THERE ARE 23 PRONOUNS. Class usually lasts until noon or one, then we often walk to the market together to buy fruit or a cold drink. I bought a lot of apples on this visit. We don't eat too many vegetables in my house or anywhere in Senegal really, so having something fibrous is much appreciated! 

When I return home, Aliu usually helps me with language learning and I talk to them about some of my gardening activities (which I will explain next). We eat lunch together around 2, which usually consists of rice with a sauce (ex: okra sauce, peanut sauce, etc), some vegetables in the middle of the communal bowl, and maybe some fish. We all eat from one big bowl for lunch and dinner. After lunch most people in Senegal usually rest because it's so hot, and most families have attaya (concentrated green tea with A LOT of sugar). My cousin has been trying to teach me how to make attaya which is fun and funny for him because I'm very bad at it! There's a special kind of pour you have to master to create a nice layer of foam in the little glasses, and I can never get it right. One day with enough practice maybe I'll beat him at his own craft. 

After attaya I usually head to our garden space to work with the other PCTs. CBT is not just for language learning - it's a time for us to practice our technical skills hands on. So far we've been creating compost, planting vegetables, creating a tree nursery, and planting field crops. It's a lot of work but it's really fun to put our whole bodies into it and sweat out some of our language frustrations haha. Some of the hibiscus we planted started to germinate before we left and that was very exciting! At the garden we also pull water from a real well in the ground which I realized I had never actually seen in person before. It made me realize how much of a suburban life I have lived. 

I come back from the garden around 6:30 or 7 usually, bathe again, then sit with my family while we wait for dinner to be ready. I visit with my dad and play with my baby brother. For dinner we eat more baguette, and the communal bowl usually has something simple like beans, spaghetti, or eggs. My dad also eats rice afterward and ALWAYS says to me "Fatimatu, Pulafuta naama maaro. Pulafuta naama maaro buy!!!" Which means "Fatimatu, Pulafutas eat rice. Pulafutas eat a lot of rice!!!" It always cracks me up. After dinner once we've put away the dishes we sit outside under the stars, usually just in silence, or I sit in silence while they talk about things I don't understand. It's a very relaxing way to end the day. 

When I go in my room (around 9 pm, I do not last very long here), I usually lie in my bed under my mosquito net and listen to music, journal, and read until I fall asleep. There are lots of sounds in Senegal - throughout the evening I can always hear music coming from somewhere in town, around 5 am every morning and throughout the day I can hear the muslim call to prayer blasted on the loud speakers, but that hour before I fall asleep is mine to cherish and listen to pleasing familiar sounds of some of my favorite bands. Eventually I do fall asleep and wake up refreshed the next morning ready to do it all over again. 

At the beginning of PCT, Etienne, the PC Senegal training center manager, advised us to fall in love with the country. And I feel like at the end of this visit it's starting to happen. There are many things I don't understand and probably never will, but I feel like I'm getting there. Walking through the sandy streets, greeting my neighbors and the children who call me "toubab" (westerner), chasing the goats and chickens... it all brings a smile to my face. I feel really lucky to be here and I'm excited to see what happens next! On Tuesday I find out my permanent site placement so that will be a day full of emotions. Thanks for reading if you made it this far :)

En ontuma (until next time), 

Maggie

[ask-fallout-southpark]

Stan:Hey wastelanders! So,we don’t have a picture for this post yet…

Max:The nerd running the blog is too tired to stay up until 1 AM to finish a picture again so no picture..

Stan:But,we wanted to share just some randomass facts about our little crossover-alternate universe since there aren’t any questions to answer at this point…

Max:Well,there is one,but it’s for this person named Wendy who Stan knows,but I don’t.This Wendy isn’t open for questions yet,as stated it’s only me ‘n Stan,so yeah,no questions.

Stan:And we’re bored.

Max:Sheila has a four-drinks-per-customer thing so we don’t even have alcohol or anything.

Stan:Thus,have some boring pointless facts.These are about all the characters,some locations,some shenanigans we get up to later down the line.This doesn’t mean the characters are open for questions yet,you’ll have to be patient for that.

In this universe,a lot of characters that have died in the show or have little screen time make appearences,like Chef,Christophe,Gregory,Damien and Pip.

Kenny is still immortal

Will we have giant guinea pig like creatures and robots attacking? Yes

So,some time after the gang meets the Freeside and Vegas dwellers,Stripe and Sparky get kidnapped {petnapped?} by some Freeside thugs/raiders.Max,along with Craig,Kenny and Scott {weird choice I know} go on a mission to track them down and save the animals.Originally Max wanted to go on his own.He didn’t mention it to anyone else.When everyone was asleep,he snuck out to go get the animals back.To his surprise he found Craig sneaking out on the same mission.”Are you fucking kidding me?” is all Craig could say when the duo stumble into Scott,who was just patrolling the area before heading to bed and Kenny,who was smoking outside {and checking out the Vegas ladies}.They couldn’t lie,and so the four went on the mission.It was a good thing Scott was with them,because with his tracking skills,he tracked the raiders to a building on the outskirts of Westside.They took the truck just because there were some Vegas brats trying to graffiti it,and to ram into the door if it was needed.Long story short,they find out it’s an underground dog fighting ring,with one or two animals mixed in between.They saved Sparky and Stripe,met Hunter and found Rex,Clyde’s dog who has been lost for a few months.They got most of the dogs on the truck and took them to a sanctuary outside Novac,which took the whole night.Tired,Max decided that the whole crew has an off day,where everyone can go do what they want to,whether it be giving the truck a new paint job and fixing it up or getting some treats for the pets.{One can expect a oneshot of this in the future}

I find it funny that Gregory was given the role of Daniel and Christophe the role of Joshua {Honest hearts},since Christophe has a huge thing against God,while Joshua is pretty religious.

It’s still not decided who shot Max

Which South Park characters will/will possibly take on the roles of faction leaders?

NCR - Mayor McDaniels

Legion - Mr. Garrison {Just so we can rid the world of him} 

Brotherhood of Steel - Stephen Stotch {Butters’ dad}

Followers of the Apocalypse - Possibly PC Principal

The Boomers - Gerald Broflovski {Kyle’s dad - just because of that ‘ultimate’/attack in TFBW}

Vegas {Mr.House} - ?? {Maybe Randy? That wouldn’t make sense tho…unless Mr.House died to Randy and Randy just took over,pretending to be the legend for a year or two,eventually believing he is him,and continuing with his goals to take over the Mojave.}

Independant Vegas - Max {with the help of Yes Man}

Great Khans - ??

The Kings - The King {obviously.Not sure who’d take on that role.Mr Mackey?}

Carnies - ?? {Maybe one of the vamp kids?}

Cartman is still called Fatass by the others

Max knows a few swear words in other languages.

Eventually there’ll be a poll or something to determine which other ships will be in the AU,and who Max’s love interest’s gonna be {If he’s gonna have one}

With the boys being a lot older,their personalities changed a little,but not much.Cartman’s still an asshole,Craig still doesn’t care,etc

There are a lot more casinos ‘n shit than there is ingame.Chef owns a casino,Mr.Kim has one,Mr.Slave ‘n Al have one,who ever shot Max has one

We’re going Mad Max on this one in saying that there are cars,trucks,busses,motorcycles and four wheelers that are drivable.Raiderified/raider proof,but drivable.Just because it’s strange how these wastelanders have actual flying helicopers {vertibirds},managed to get a plane that was at the bottom of a lake for 200 years to fly, and a giant ass robot that talks,but don’t know how to fix up old cars.

Independant Vegas here we come

Stan and Wendy were together for a good 3 or 4 years before making the decision to remain best friends.There’s a whole story behind that,but,that’s for another time.These two would literally die for each other.

Some religions managed to stay alive for 200 years.There are new ones too…some are just really weird,like for example,the Children of Atom.

Can you believe Kyle’s mom sent her kids off to boot camp and became the leader and bartender in a little ghost town?

Will Craig ‘n Tweek eventually have their wedding? Absolutely

Max has amnesia from the shots to the head,but,as his journey continues,he starts remembering more,like his past.Why his parents sent away to be a courier,why they didn’t even bother to go look for him,why the Divide got blown to bits.

It’s not clear what Terrance and Phillip’s roles are gonna be.Maybe they should lead the Khans.

Kenny and Stan have a drinking contest while in Jacobstown and Stan manages it better than Kenny.The townspeople asked the crew to remove Kenny from the town.

Wendy has in fact,beaten up a deathclaw.

The siblings of the characters also make their appearances,all in different locations.Ike almost always follows after Kyle,so he’s part of the crew {the main crew,who travels the wastes with Max}.

Ike tried to help Christophe get over his fear of dogs.It was partially successful.

Another Ike one - Ike has a penpal.He writes letters to this penpal when he’s not training.Little does he know,it’s Firkle.He discovers this while the crew’s in Jacobstown.

Some alternate outfits for the crew have parts from their superhero/humans ‘n elves costumes.

Max:A’right,that’s enough facts and rambling.While I don’t expect this to be of use to anybody,it’s at least more fun than sitting here staring at this blue eyed companion of mine.

Stan:Maybe we should post some story stuff tomrrow,like how we met? 

Max:That could be a fun experience.Maybe we should also see if we can get a better profile pic up.Maybe one of you,me and the dog?

Stan:Max,it’s already a pain in the ass to draw us.How the hell is she gonna draw Sparky?

Max:Determination?

Stan:That could work.

Max:Honestly,there are a ton more,cooler AUs out there.Why do we exist?

Stan:I think you should get some rest.Sheila gave us the keys so we can stay here.Just have to lock up.

Max:But I don’t want to sleep.I’ve been out cold for a few days.The dirt nap was good enough.

Stan:You have to get some rest,Max.Whether it’s sleeping on the table,on one of the seats,or on the bar itself,or on the floor if you really want to.I’ll even put out my sleeping bag for ya.

Max:What about right here,next to you?

Stan:I wouldn’t advise that.People might start shipping us…or worse…they might attack you.We’ve got a lot of Style and Stendy shippers,and some others like Stutters and Staig.

Max:Why do people always assume two people are dating when they’re just in the same place?

Stan:That’s this hellsite in a nutshell…so..just get some rest or whatever.I’ll answer any questions,if there are any,after this.I’ve seen a lot in my life time,so I don’t get intimidated.

Stan’s up for questions,and Max’ll also give some sleepy answers

So many tags to do but I can’t write em all,I apologise.

[wallpapernifty]

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Heartfelt tributes accept been paid to the babe of freed Scots afterlife row bedfellow Kenny Richey’s above fiance.

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The affairs surrounding the afterlife of 37-year-old Cambuslang mum Michelle Torley are still alien as accompany and ancestors bidding their shock.

Her devastated mum Karen Torley – who fell for Richey afterwards starting a attack for his absolution in 1995 – told of her accident in an affecting column online.

“I accept endless of messages, flowers, candles, cards and calls. Thank you everyone, I will acknowledge aback I can. Our active are like mash,” Karen, 56, acquaint on Facebook.

“Our lives accept been consistently changed. The shock of this has aloof amorphous to set in. I accept so abounding thoughts antagonism through my mind.”

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Mum-of-four Karen, additionally of Cambuslang, endlessly campaigned for 12 years to accept Richey freed and got affianced to him while he was bound up.

Edinburgh-raised ex-marine Richey was bedevilled to be accomplished in Ohio afterwards a cloister disqualified he was amenable for starting a blaze that dead a two-year-old babe in 1986.

The 55-year-old connected to advance his chastity and was appear in 2008 afterwards it was bent his attorneys amiss the case.

Richey, who confused to the States with his dad in 1982, was set chargeless beneath a appeal accord afterwards cartoon abutment from Pope John Paul II.

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Born to a Scottish mother and an American father, he confused aback to Scotland for a while afterwards his absolution afore abiding to Mississippi.

In 2012, he was bedevilled to three years afterwards he was begin accusable of authoritative threats.

And aftermost October, he was aback in the berth afterwards actuality answerable with aggressive to annihilate the adjudicator in his aboriginal case via a Facebook video rant.

Karen, who breach with Richey two years afore his release, told how her close ancestors are acknowledging anniversary added as they try to appear to agreement with Michelle’s death.

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“I am adored with Frankie who has been a belfry of backbone to us all,” she wrote. “Michelle’s sisters Jayne and Katie and brother Mark are above beside themselves with grief.”

And Karen told how the ancestors are ambulatory annular to affliction for Michelle’s own accouchement afterwards their mum’s death.

“The kids are handing this ok for now. I apperceive it will be difficult but we will all stick calm and adhere in there.

“Michelle trusted us to attending afterwards the kids with her accomplished heart. She knows they will be accept with us.

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[missingverse]

Missing Chapter One

Missing

This is probably not one of my better ideas. I'm already midway through some other longform fics, and updates may be sporadic, but given that Arnold/Helga was one of my baby ships I'd like to give something to the fandom to tide us all over until the Jungle Movie.

Note: Although this is somewhat inspired by Anohana, it is a very different egg with some twists and turns planned. Enjoy!

….. 

It should have been a healthy sixteen-year-old heterosexual boy's dream come true to wake up to find a girl sitting on your bed.

Not so much when that girl was a girl you hadn't seen for five years.

Not so much when that girl was a girl who nobody had seen in five years.

Definitely not when she looked just like she had on the posters and fliers and news reports, right down to her clothes (pink sundress, white sweater, pink ribbon in her hair, sneakers), the only difference being that the girl in those posters and fliers and news reports had been eleven years old, and the girl sitting on the end of Arnold's bed was around the same age he was.

It was unmistakably her. He would recognize those eyebrows anywhere.

“...Helga?” he just about managed to choke out.

She jumped, frowned down at him as if he'd done something wrong (and oh, something in him had missed that look) and made to step off the bed. Dimly he noticed she was wearing only one shoe.

“...what? You can see me? Now?” she growled.

“Of course I can see you....where have you....what....” he spluttered.

This has to be a dream.

“I've been here for weeks,” Helga groaned. “You didn't see me before?”

He reached out to her, and at the same time pinched himself. The pain barely registered because his hand sank through her arm to clutch at the bedspread under her.

Oh....well, he was definitely awake.

“That hasn't changed, then,” she said, tapping at his hand. His skin felt cold where she was touching him, like being touched by mist. It was a feeling he'd had before...he'd been looking for gaps in the drywall and the floorboards, for the source of that cold....well over five weeks....

“What are you doing here?” he managed to ask, his mind working furiously to make sense of this. Making sense of a girl who was missing, legally declared dead, suddenly popping up on his bed.

“I don't know,” she told him with a careless shrug. “I woke up here. And I can't seem to leave.”

“You can't...leave...?”

“I tried,” she continued. “I can't work the door, I keep sinking. I tried to get outside when the door was open, but I ended up back inside.”

It was all starting to make a crazy sort of sense. Of course she was a ghost. Everyone knew she was dead, even though she hadn't been found. But why would she end up haunting Arnold's house?

“I can't call you Football Head anymore,” she said, awfully casual for a dead person. “It almost looks normal. Too bad.”

Football Head.

He wanted to cry. It had been so long. But instead he laughed.

“You can call me Football Head if you want.”

…..

They worked out some facts in the most bizarre conversation Arnold had ever had.

Helga couldn't remember anything about the day she disappeared, or anything after that until she 'woke up' in Arnold's house. She had been wandering around the boarding house for five weeks, wondering why nobody would talk to her or acknowledge her. She figured out she was a ghost about two weeks in, after phasing through the walls trying to leave. She couldn't move anything with solid weight, didn't sleep, didn't eat. Didn't do anything but watch.

But now Arnold was able to see her, she said she felt more 'solid.' She could still phase through walls and couldn't open doors, but she could pick up small objects (pens, paper, socks etc.)

He brought her downstairs (it was still early, everyone else was still in bed) and he opened the front door for her, and she made it down to the end of the stoop before she had to stop.

“I can't go any further,” she said.

“Why not?” he whispered, looking around for anyone else on the street.

“I don't know,” she shrugged. “Just a feeling.”

“A feeling?”

“I've never been a ghost before, doy,” she scoffed. “How am I supposed to know anything?”

They went back inside. The boarding house was just starting to wake up. In another hour he was going to be leaving for school. He grabbed some oatmeal from the kitchen, took it upstairs with a hurried comment to his grandmother that he had homework to finish.

He brought up news articles on his PC for her to read about her case. About how she had left school on a Thursday evening, hadn't gone home, and hadn't gone to school the next day. About how the alarm hadn't been raised until Saturday when she missed Little League practice, and how her best friend had called the police but her parents hadn't. About how one of her sneakers had been found in a ditch 30 miles out of town.

He watched her skim articles and think-pieces and polls all about her case with a solemn, indifferent gaze. She had been cute at eleven, big eyebrows and all. Theories about what had happened to her were wild, sordid, sometimes ghoulish. He'd seen pictures of her digitally altered to how she would look at sixteen, but they had gotten some details wrong. She was beautiful at sixteen, dead or not. Or maybe he just thought that because he had missed her more than he ever thought he would.

“Who's this Lancie guy?” she asked suddenly, making him choke a little on his oatmeal. “His name keeps popping up...”

“He's an out-of-town suspect,” Arnold answered. “He was found with your bike. I think he was in jail before for something to do with girls...”

“Huh,” she said, scrolling down the page. “I don't remember having a bike....”

“It was Phoebe's,” he said. “She gave you her old one to help you get to Little League.”

“Oh yeah,” she smiled. “She covered it with those stickers....I got most of them off but those stupid butterflies...”

He grinned to himself. The butterflies on her bike had been used as a sort of unofficial logo for any discussions of her case. It was just like her to hate the thing everyone was using to identify her.

“Lots of results for Bob here,” she muttered. “They really think he did it?”

Yes. The general consensus was that Bob Pataki had murdered his daughter, in Hillwood anyway. He had been called in for questioning multiple times and though they couldn't prove he had done it, all the dirt that came out about him in the papers ruined any kind of reputation he could have had afterwards.

“What do you think? He's your dad, could he have done it?” he asked carefully.

She spun a little in the computer chair, thinking. How bitter to think that she couldn't immediately say no, her father could not and would not have killed her.

“It's possible,” she said at last, so casually it hurt Arnold to hear it. “Maybe not on purpose, but accidents happen....”

Over her shoulder the picture they had used in all the case files flickered on Arnold's PC screen. It was her school photo, she was smiling, her hair was tidy and her clothes were clean. But Arnold knew that there was much speculation about how few pictures they had gathered, how her family had almost none, and how a lot of the alternative photos had come from either the school or Phoebe. There were two floating around on the internet, on true crime websites. She had stitches on her head in one, a bad case of measles in the other. These were evidence that her family were neglectful at best, outright abusive at worst.

We all knew. All the kids, all the grown-ups. Nobody did anything until she was gone.

“Wonder why I didn't wake up at my house,” she mused, spinning in the chair. “You think Bob had something to do with that?”

“They don't live there anymore,” he told her.

“What? They moved?”

“Yeah, about six months after you went missing,” he explained.

They'd had their windows broken, doors smashed in, paint thrown at the house. Bob's store had been broken into and trashed. Arnold thought they might have even changed their names.

“Figures,” Helga huffed.

The chime on his phone, the one that told him it was time to leave the house for school, jingled on the desk.

“I gotta go,” he told her regretfully. “You'll be here when I get back, right?”

“I think so,” she said, clicking on another crime blog. “I'm not planning on going anywhere, anyways. Say hi to Phoebe for me.”

Biking down the hill, Arnold had time to think. Once upon a time he had dreaded going to school to deal with Helga G. Pataki. Then, he would have given anything to deal with her at school, to make things normal again. And now he wanted nothing more than to stay away from school to deal with her. It felt like something had clicked back into place.

…..

Arnold was something of a loner at school, nobody bothered him but nobody bothered with him either. Out of the corner of his eye, as he was taking books out of his locker, he spotted Gerald with his crew, lounging outside the door for Homeroom and passing comments on any girls that skittered past them.

How long has it been?

Their friendship hadn't disintegrated overnight, but shortly after Helga went missing Arnold had found he didn't like the person Gerald was becoming. They cut ties for good almost a year later, and they were coldly polite to each other in person. It helped that they didn't have many classes together, Arnold was top in pretty much everything and Gerald was flunking most of his.

Rhonda was sitting across from him as he took his seat in homeroom. She was furiously typing something on her phone, stroking her thumb across her jaw to blend some tiny flaw in her make-up. Her long elaborate nails clattered against the phone screen obnoxiously. How many words had she spoken to Arnold in the past few years? Probably less than ten.

As the bell rang, Phoebe hurried in, curled in on herself as she always was. She sat at the back, close to the door.

Say hi to Phoebe for me.

For the first time in a long, long time, Arnold really looked at Phoebe.

She had been interviewed on TV a few times during the search. America had warmed to this poor little girl who had lost her best friend, shaking and stumbling over her words as newscasters gently asked her about what they did together, about the bike she had given her, if she wanted to send her friend a message.

I WANT YOU TO COME HOME the headlines quoted in huge glaring letters, with the tear-flushed face of the little girl on the front page. I MISS YOU SO MUCH.

Then the story was old news, and Phoebe was largely forgotten by the media, except to bring up a point that she, as an eleven year old girl, had been the first person to alert police that Helga was missing. Sometimes whoever was writing the article or blog-post wondered how she was doing.

She wasn't doing well.

Her hair was long, stringy and unkempt. Her glasses were smudged, her skin pale and ashy-looking. She was buried under a shapeless wool sweater and leggings with holes at the knee. She might have still been pretty, under that lackluster appearance, if it wasn't for the air of pure misery that followed her around.

Arnold was a loner, but people still talked to him every now and then. People went out of their way not to talk to Phoebe. Ironically, she was more of a ghost than the actual ghost sitting in his room surfing the internet.

…..

He hurried home after school, half-afraid that the morning had been some hallucination, that Helga wouldn't be there.

She was.

Exactly where he had left her, in fact, and looking more alive than any dead person had a right to.

“That was quick,” she quipped, spinning in the chair and poking her one bare foot in his direction. “You say hi to Phoebe for me?”

“No,” he answered, tossing his bag onto the bed. “I thought it might make me look a bit....insane.”

“Fair point,” she agreed. “How is she?”

How could he tell her? When he knew she'd want to leave the house when she physically couldn't, to save her friend from drowning in her own unhappiness?

“She's....okay,” he lied.

[ackhub]

After the fact - 2010 PC Build

Introduction

I’ve been back in Texas for holiday recently. Having recently finished my 2019 PC build in Berkeley, I’ve been tinkering around with my first PC, now named Imber (previously known as Imbrium, Rain, and even Epic Hamstah Machine), a Windows 7 machine I built in 2010. I cleaned out the interior with an air blower from Amazon and backed up a lot of old files I had here. 

I actually had a vague idea of when I built this computer: I know it was in the summer sometime around my middle school years. With some digging back, I found that the excel sheet I made to collect parts was created on May 17, 2011, but that seemed too late. So I found the monitor, which was bought on a Newegg account on August 21, 2018. 

Going from this and the assumption that the excel sheet was copied from an older one, I can safely say that the computer was built in the summer of 2010. I regret never making a build log, so I’m going to write a short one around 8 and a half years (approximately) after I finished building it. 

Buying and building

(Taken 2014/11/20, well after the cooler was installed. Unfortunately though the 2010 building process was well documented via old Canon point and shoot camera, I cannot locate the pictures for the life of me. They may be on a portable hard drive somewhere.)

This computer was a reward for being accepted to Whitney High School. I got a lot of help with buying parts and mechanical assembly from my brother, who had much more experience with building computers. Because of this, a lot of the design decisions made for this build were made by him. This included the “refrigerator” case, a Lian Li PC-A05N, which essentially just resembles an aluminum box. In retrospect, the cramped interior of the Mini Tower form factor made it somewhat more difficult to connect cables and install components.

Two components I made a big and possibly bad call on: buying a “cutting edge” motherboard and graphics card. While these two components make up a huge chunk of the cost, with inflation this PC ended up costing around the same as my 2019 build, with a grossly overpriced 1080Ti at over 500 dollars. 

With the parts, all that was left to do was building the computer, according to old online guides and tom’s hardware threads. This was a huge learning experience for me. Building a computer is a good way to develop basic mechanical skills, which in this case is screwing in screws and plugging in cables. The hardest part was installing the CPU, which involves applying thermal paste. I remembered being obsessed about this step, which I probably redid 3 or 4 times (breaking one of the plastic brackets of the stock cooler), and once again when installing the aftermarket Hyper 212 EVO, and probably once a year after that. Reducing core temps was really a goal of mine in the early years, and I religiously took care to clean every nook and cranny. 

Bezel upgrade

In 2013, I decided to do something about my obsession over the fact that the front panel for the CD drive was made out of plastic. I bought a replacement aluminum bezel straight from Lian Li and screwed it on. While documented on a very old Google Blogger blog, you can see all the pictures of the process here.

Audio Bug 1 (AB1)

The current speaker set on this machine was salvaged from a family friend’s relative moving to Hong Kong, and although its wires are kind of frayed causing the right speaker to not work sometimes, I have been able to get it back to a working state with some wire manipulation. 

Audio Bug 2 (AB2)

(Taken on 2019/07/05, a relic from the past: an audio switch that was used for switching audio output from headphones to speakers.)

The motherboard would not switch from speakers to headphones automatically once headphones were plugged in to the front panel audio jack. I am not sure if AB2 arose from the start of this build, or after some botched driver installation. Either way, this hardware solution was proposed by my brother. My dad even drilled a hole in to the side of my work desk in order to mount it. Deep into its lifetime, the switch stopped working properly. It is possible that my headphone cable for the ATH M50s, which you can see in the photo below, started having trouble due to the the angle required to plug it in to the switch. Eventually I ended up uninstalling whatever driver I had and using what now appears to be the default Windows one, which was a simple software fix for AB2. If I had done this fix earlier, this whole story could have been avoided. 

Audio Bug 3 (AB3)

A possibly related problem is the “audio corruption” bug. Sometimes, when playing games for extended periods of time, the audio would start getting garbled, which corresponded to the system experiencing extreme amounts of lag. I also have no idea when AB3 started occurring, but it led to a lot of restarting the computer during competitive CS:GO matches and tilted teammates. I might have fixed this problem last weekend. Through some hung startups with automated driver install tools, I eventually ended up with a crappy outdated VIA HD audio driver and the return of AB2. Installing the newest version of the driver from 2012 fixed this, and its possible that AB3 was also fixed. I won’t know unless I start playing a lot of CS:GO again.

Graphics card and RAM upgrade

At some point, I swapped out 2 4 GB sticks for one single 8 GB stick. 

Sometime in high school circa 2015, my friend Richard offered me a bargain deal for his GTX 650 Ti Boost, for around 20-50 (?) dollars. That was the last time I ever upgraded this machine. This replaced the old EVGA GTX 460, which is lost to the sands of time.

 (Taken 2019/06/04) 

This is Imber in its current state. It has been “upgraded” with an ancient hard drive from an even older build (probably my brother’s first, or second) that my mom was using previously, since that machine was failing. This 2010 build now shoulders the role of being my mom’s work machine. 

Looking back at my first computer build, I’ve come to appreciate how many advances have been made in PC part picking and construction since I built it. At the same time, I see some weaknesses in my decision making, especially with purchasing parts (and writing documentation!). Leaving this process to my brother for the most part also did not prepare me for design decisions when it came to my next computer, which I would build eight years later. 

[nedilynndominique]

Hong Kong (June 20-23, 2016)

I can’t believe that it’s almost been a year. I don’t want it to be a year just yet, I want the memories to be so vivid that it feels like it just happened a week ago. It was my first to travel outside of the country, and oh how I want to do it again and again. I want to learn about people, their culture, their food... All these landmarks... All these places that people create memories in. I only wish to be motivated enough to finally find a job and earn so much money that I can get to travel as much as I want. With that being said, here is my Hong Kong experience.

After my graduation and after Kuya finally finished his thesis, papa was happy enough to take is to Hong Kong. He paid for kuya, Layne, mama’s, and my airplane ticket, Disney ticket, and accommodations ticket. On that day, uncle Jay was home from Australia. It’s so weird to think, because uncle Jay went home last Christmas, and it just shows that this HK trip happened months and months ago. Anyway, uncle Jay was home and uncle Alvin and his kids were at home that day. Uncle Alvin is going to be driving us to the airport at... I can’t even remember, I think 1 in the morning. I didn’t get to sleep at all! We were so early that we lounged around and ate some snacks for a few hours. It was so weird! My last plane ride was during my 3rd year in High School, but our Cathay Pacific plane ride now was so much better, and so much comfortable. I sat beside mama, and I started taking videos of our experience then. Cathay had all the best music: from Charlie Puth to Demi Lovato! And also, I used the lavatory because papa told us to. Haha. So with zero sleep, I felt like I was floating by. We rode some sort of a train, rented a pocket WiFi, and looked for our travel agency guide, Randy. We were grouped with fellow Filipinos and a lot of Arab people. We were dropped of at our hotel- Rambler Garden Hotel, and mama talked to some Filipino people that already went to Hong Kong before. We waited SOOOO long to be checked in, that we roamed around at the basement level of the hotel to see a 7-11 store, the Park n Shop grocery,  We were supposed to go with them to Madaam Tussauds, and ride with them at the shuffle that the hotel provided, but we left our room too late. We decided to buy some snacks at 7-11, and then we rode a taxi (100 HK dollars for a 20-minute ride) to Tsim Sha Tsui. 

On our first day, we just roamed around and promised to return here on our free day. We bought some food at McDonald’s, yes! And then went back to the hotel- we had two rooms and Layne and I shared rooms, while kuya and mama shared another one. Since they get to keep the pocket WiFi, we stayed at their room up until before we slept.

The next day was a fun day! We went with a Filipino group to tour Victoria’s Harbour, a jewelry shop in Hong Kong- where a Filipino guy who speaks a different language would always hover around me!, a souvenir store (I think they tricked us because the food were really expensive there, but I got Carlos’ dad the Hopia that he liked, and the mirrors I bought were 4 for 100, when the store at our hotel sold mirrors for 7 for 100!!! I only found out about that later that night), and to this boat place- that mama decided we ride even if we spent 60 HK dollars per person and it was a short boat ride. It was still a good experience though! And, while showing us around, Randy made me stand up at the bus, and he called me beautiful, “ a future beauty queen”! Haha! I made sure that Carlos knows that. The best part was when we went to Hong Kong Ocean Park. Only 3 groups of people went there, alongside a Filipino couple who we got to talk to. :)  Ocean Park was loads of fun. We ate lunch even if the the food was expensive, at one of the stalls there. We road the cable car- and we were ALL scared, especially kuya. And we saw so many animals!!! The penguins and the pandas were the cutest of all. We weren’t able to watch the sea lion show though, but the sharks and the jellyfishes were really pretty. There were a lot of rides, too, but we didn’t ride any because we easily get dizzy. This was a really beautiful place, although it was very tiring because we walked around the entire day! At nighttime, we went to Park n Shop and 7-11 to  buy some more snacks! A 24-pc Ferrero pack was on sale for only 60 dollars at 7-11 so we loaded up on that, I bought 2. Layne bought 2. Mama bought 2. And kuya bought 3!!!

On our third day, we went to Hong Kong Disneyland for the entire day!!! It was so hot there! Mama bought a cap for herself, but it was so hot that I was getting grumpy, so she bought one, too. We took pictures a lot and tried to look for places that had air conditioners on- like the shops, where mama almost had a fight with a Chinese woman who cut to the front of the line, and the Lion King show (which was really beautiful!). Before that, we had lunch at the rocketship/spaceship-themed restaurant, and I ordered a two-piece chicken with rice. It wasn’t that good, but it was really expensive! We also went to take pictures with the Disney characters- we spent the entire day waiting in line for picture- I got a bad sunburn because the shirt was really tight! But we got to take pictures with Donald Duck, Zootopia characters, Sofia the First, and Mickey and Minnie. We got badly sun burnt for the Mickey and Minnie line because it was soooo long! For the Zootopia characters, we were originally in line for Chip and Dale, but the couple before us, the guy to be exact, decided to punch one of the mascots!!! The couple quickly left the scene and guards were suddenly all over the place looking for them. Anyway, we saw Pluto, Goofy, and Elsa, but didn’t get to take pictures with them. My dream was to meet the handsome Flynn Rider, but we never saw them. The Disney princesses, aside from Elsa, weren’t around the time that we visited. We joined the afternoon parade, and I felt like a Disney character being one of the people at the front. Lol. And then we had some overpriced snacks at the Disney Bakery- I had a chocolate croissant with crushed pistachios. We bought several drinks throughout the day, too, because it was extremely hot. I noticed my sun burn in the afternoon, and decided to change into a different, more loose shirt. It was a green sequins top that reminds me of the Little Mermaid. We walked around the entire day- and no, no rides yet again. (I will definitely try and ride some rides the next time, THERE IS A NEXT TIME, I go there). We watched the Disney Paint the Night parade at around 7:30, and mama again almost fought with an old woman that tried to steal our spots while waiting for the fireworks show. We then watched the Disney in the Stars fireworks show, and I greeted Carlos an early birthday in one of the videos I shot. I kept on sending him videos of the fireworks. By the way, the internet connection in Ocean Park and Disneyland was soooo fast! When it came to an end by 9 PM, we half heartedly went home. It was tiring, but I really enjoyed it. We were sooooo tired, but we still went down to buy snacks at Park n Shop. We bought these really delicious cherries, and a lot of different candies and snacks (Almond Roca for 2 for 10, Kinder, Snickers, and this mentos/chupa chups 40 pcs pack for only 11 dollars). I also bought these Oreo wafers at 7-11 for only 11 dollars! We ate at Cafe de Coral at the basement floor of the hotel that night. We were supposed to keep the WiFi that night because tomorrow was Carlos’ birthday and I wanted to greet him on midnight, but it turns out that we used up all of our 5 GB data. So Layne and kuya accompanied me to the lobby, so I can greet Carlos via Facetime. Hehe. That night also, Layne and I realized that the cleaners took our towels, so I had to call to get some towels, and panicked because we thought that we would be asked to pay for it- it was 100-200 dollars per towel! Fortunately, we weren’t asked to pay. 

Our last day was sad! First of all, I realized how dark I got! I hated my pictures with my black jacket on, because I was so dark!!! We returned to Tsim Sha Tsui after checking out at the hotel - we left our luggage there as well. We had lunch at KFC, it was soooo good, and the line was sooo long. We walked around a lot to look for kuya’s shoes, but he didn’t buy any. We looked at Giordano and another store, and the clothes were so inexpensive, because they had a sale around this time of the year- plus 10% discount on your birthday month and it was kuya’s birthday month. HAHA. So they bought a lot, and I bought Carlos a 60-dollar hat from Giordano! So we returned to look at the malls- we bought pasalubong face masks from one of the stores along the strip, and we went to H&M!!! nd we went inside a mall where Kuya bought a G-Shock watch.We returned to H&M and again, it was so inexpensive! Layne bought 2 shoes, and because I was a cheap girl, I only bought one boots- but it’ the best and it’s my favorite!, for 150 HK dollars. I bought a couple shirt for Carlos and I, too, for  60 HK dollars. We were getting late, and taxi drivers won’t stop for us- they don’t like tourists, mama panicked. We eventually had to ride a taxi cab that made us pay 200 dollars for the short trip- he was very rude. We arrived on time. Got to the airport, said goodbye to our WiFi, ate dinner at Cafe de Coral one last time because we still had coupons (coupons are from the travel agency) and walked around. We bought some Starbucks and a couple of Big Macs from McDonalds, before boarding at around 9 pm. Mama and Layne slept the entire ride, but I chose to watch Zootopia. Hehe. Note: We sat at the middle seat next to a Pinay this time, and kuya sat across us. This is where our trip ends. The best days and most memorable trip of my life so far. :) Uncle Jay and Uncle Alvin met us at the airport, and we were all so sleepy, I zonked out immediately. 

Hong Kong is such a beautiful and clean place, I would definitely want to return here someday soon! There were a lot of rude Chinese people, but I guess that comes with territory. Again, I love the place and the food and the culture that I got to experience here, and I hope to never forget all that has happened while I was here. 

Link to my video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O8_DfFr1gMY

[suckitsurveys]

What’s your favorite accessory?: Earrings. I’m always wearing them. I also almost always have a hair elastic on my wrist. I also love a good 90′s style choker.   What is the last article of clothing you bought?: A swim suit for my niece’s birthday. What does that article of clothing look like?: It’s a reversible tankini. One side is half one shade of blue, half another shade, split down the middle, and the other side is black with lightning bolts in those shades of blue. it’s really cute.  Which is better: candy necklaces or Ring Pops?: Candy necklaces.

What’s your favorite kind of soda?: Root Beer and Dr. Pepper.

What program do you use to play your mp3s on?: I use Spotify on my phone for music. If you’ve taken the SATs (or PSATs/ACTs/etc), what was your score?: I don’t remember. How much wood can a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?: A lot. Do you honestly care how much the woodchuck could chuck?: Not at all. What time do you wake up every morning?: On work days I get up around 7. I’m supposed to technically start at 7 but I don’t have to check in til 7:10 and I’m working from home so I sleep til the very last minute lol.  What was the last movie you rented or bought?: I rented Frozen 2 for my niece and I to watch when she slept over last week.  Do you play Dance Dance Revolution?: I have before. If so, what’s your favorite song to play?: I don’t remember any of them. What do you think of the Kool-Aid man?: Oh, yeah. Do you like Dane Cook (he’s a comedian)?: I am embarrassed to admit I used to love him. Then I realized how unfunny and unoriginal he is.  Have you had a song in your head today? What is it?: I have a bunch of songs from Tik Tok constantly playing in my head lately. Have you ever humped someone to greet them in school?: Uh, no.  Who would you rather have sex with: Prince or Billy Idol?: I’m okay.  What was the last concert you went to?: Vampire Weekend in Salt Lake City almost a year ago.  What is the next concert you are going to?: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha fuck 2020. What is your favorite board game?: Clue. Do you think Jade Puget is really awesome?: I have no idea who that is.  What’s your favorite punctuation mark?: ? What foreign language do you take in school?: I took Spanish for 3 years in high school and a year in college. Have you ever read any of the Chronicles of Narnia series?: Nope. Do you hate Harry Potter as much as I do?: I don’t hate Harry Potter, I just don’t care about it. How many times have you seen the movies in the Star Wars series?: I think I’ve only seen the first one the whole way through.  What is your favorite anime?: FLCL. Do you own a lava lamp? Blacklite? Fiber optic lamp?: Nope to all the above. Do you write it as “favorite” or “favourite”?: Favorite. How many bracelets do you own?: I don’t know exactly, but quite a few. How many bracelets are you wearing?: None. The hair tie I usually have on my wrist is in use.  What’s your favorite flavor of Pocky?: Matcha.  What’s your favorite way to wear your hair?: I love space buns! I don’t do it often, but I love them. What brand of gum do you most often chew?: I haven’t had gum in years. Do you believe in the Zodiac somewhat?: Somewhat. I think it’s very interesting how i exhibit the traits of my sign.  What’s your Zodiac sign?: Virgo! What’s your Chinese astrology sign?: Snake. If you were to attend an art school, what subject would you major in?: Film or TV. How old is your PC?: Old. Do you have any 16-bit video game systems in your house? (ie Sega Genesis): No. My husband plays those games on his computer. When was the last time you got some film developed?: Uhh. I have no idea, it’s been several years. What was on that roll of film?: No idea. If you were to get a tattoo tomorrow, what would it be of?: I have a few ideas. I wanna do a half sleeve of creepy creatures and a sort of half leg of the other 4 BoJack characters to add to my BoJack tattoo.

When you turn 18 (or already have), what did/will you do on your birthday?: I turned 18 13 years ago. If i remember correctly, we just had a party in my dad’s yard. Can you use a hula hoop?: I mean, sure. Not correctly, though. . What is the longest distance you’ve ever walked?: Not 100% sure.  Do you wear eyeliner?: Sometimes. Has anything been bothering you physically lately?: Yes. How about mentally?: Always. Do you already have an idea of what you wanna do for college?: I already went. What’s your favorite kind of fruity candy?: Sour Patch Kids. How long do you think you could do jumping jacks non-stop?: Lol not long. What do you usually use your tokens on at the arcade?: Skee Ball! What’s your favorite kind of fruit?: Pomegranates, watermelon, bananas.  What’s your favorite kind of Coca-Cola or Pepsi (Vanilla, lemon, lime, etc.)?: Cherry. What do you think of eyeball jewelry?: Sounds gross. What kind of deodorant do you use?: Secret. Have you ever had a lemonade stand?: I think so? What’s your favorite font?: I don’t know. There’s so many.  What size and color do you use with it?: -- What’s better: glitter or rhinestones? GLITTER. If you were given a $50 gift card to an art store, what would you buy?: I have no idea, I’d have to look around.  Do you like taking pictures of yourself?: Eh. Are you fairly photogenic?: Sure. What was your first job?: At a cafe. If you could have wings, what kind would they be (bird, insect, bat…)?: BAT WINGS. What do you order at your favorite fast food place?: My favorite is Popeyes and I usually get the mild chicken tenders combo, unless they have some sort of special tenders, then I will get those. What kind of sauce do you get with chicken nuggets?: BBQ or honey mustard.  Do you like making sandcastles at the beach?: Sure. If you had a tricycle/big wheel when you were a kid, what did it look like?: I had a green big wheel.  Did you have streamers in the handlebars of your bike?: Yes. Would you put streamers on your bike now?: Yes. What is your favorite McDonald’s toy you’ve ever had?: There was one year they had Inspector Gadget toys where each one was a differerent part and if you collected all of them you could build him. I also loved the Barbies and Beanie Babies.  What was your favorite toy that you broke when you were a kid?: A lot of my Barbies got destroyed by my cats when I was a kid.  How do you like your hamburger?: In my mouth. What’s your favorite kind of juice?: Apple or lemonade. What is your favorite belt you own?: I don’t own any belts. What is the most obscure thing you’ve found at a thrift store?: I don’t know. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to a thrift store. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve seen while taking a walk?: I’m sure I’ve seen a lot of weird shit. How often do you go for a walk?: Ugh, I really should more often. What does your discman look like?: Discman? Wow, this survey is really old. What is your favorite kind of Pop Tarts?: Brown sugar. When was the last time you colored in a coloring book?: The other day.  If you were able to sell your soul to someone, how much would you charge?: Lol. What would you buy with the money?: -- What instrument’s sound makes you smile?: Drums. Do you like to be tickled?: Yes. Does tickling turn you on?: Yes. Not so much full on ticking, but light touches.

What brand of condoms do you usually use?: We have some Magnum brand ones, I think they’re called. What was the last CD you bought that you really liked?: I don’t even remember the last CD I bought. When was the last time you had a papercut?: I have no idea. Who’s one person you absolutely hate and why?: My BIL because he’s a piece of shit. What makes you think a person is absolutely obnoxious?: If they’re full of themselves, ignorant, negative about EVERYTHING, pretentious. Basically my brother in law. What was your favorite Pokemon?: Pikachu. Call me basic; I love that little lightning rat.  Did you watch the Power Rangers when you were little?: Yes. What’s better: Ben and Jerry’s or Dairy Queen?: I feel like you can’t really compare the two? If you could go over to someone’s house right now, who’s and why?: Randal’s because I miss himmmmmmmm. Are you good at playing ping-pong?: Nope. Do you like to chew on things?: Sometimes. What’s a nervous habit of yours?: Playing with my hair or picking at my face. Do you like to paint your nails?: I like to get them done. I haven’t in AGES though.  Would you be able to fit in a kiddie pool?: Yeah? What makes you giggle with glee?: Lots of things! When you read the comics in the paper, what do you go for first?: Garfield! 

[sutare-chan]

Ao Jumonji’s Roman, pt.4

a piece of Noël nr 7 Noël works in a bar now. He's very polite and responsible. He doesn't close the bar while there're still clients, even if they're too late (and not even start to tidy up before they leave). His chief doesn't get it: why wouldn't Noël want to end his workday earlier?.. Anyway, the chief himself isn't nearly as hardworking, so Noël additionally does have to close the doors (which is usually not the barman's task, but chief just leaves before him x3) and take the keys to the chief's house and drop them to his mailbox. With a boss like that the bar isn't doing very well, as you may assume =P Noël doesn't really have any ambitions there either, but he works properly. And, like, the bar is called Rapa Bar (after an island in the Pacific), and there's of course its special drink. Which is pretty shitty actually, but Noël secretly made his own recipe of the thing, a better one. Although when it's not Noël's shift the drink is still as bad as it used to be. That particular night Noël was getting the keys to his chief's house, as usual. When he was going back home it was nearly dawn already. Noël looked up in the grey sky and sighed, when suddenly a voice called him. That was Kurikigawa Kakehiro, his old school friend! My, my, what a meeting! Kurikigawa was going home after he was drinking booze with some of his acquaintances, when he suddenly spotted and recognized Noël (they haven't seen each other ever since the middle school). Kurikigawa's a bit drunk and more than happy to see Noël, while Noël seems sort or indifferent (or rather not really getting wtf is going on x3). Still, he follows Kurikigawa when he invites him to have a gyudon and a chat. We learn that Kurikigawa's working somewhere already, while Noël decided to go for a university (Kurikigawa says it's no wonder, since Noël always had brilliant scores in school, but apparently Noël doesn't remember that at all). Kurikigawa also asks how's it going with music. Noël doesn't play in a band, but Kurikigawa understands that at least he's still playing and that overfills him with joy. He also tells that Noël really shouldn't have played together with those less dedicated than himself: "You know, <...> I wouldn't have been surprised at all if you had started a professional career by now. Or would I?.. Yeah, I guess I would, like, wow! How can that be and such. You do have a talent, I've always believed that. And I would often think: "that guy's different". I don't have a talent, you see. Okay, maybe I do, but not for music, that's for sure. But I understand. I mean... see, if even I have goosebumps when I hear it, that guy must be a genius. I dunno. But I believe so. I mean, about you. That you're a genius. Geniuses are different, you see? You probably hated playing together with us. Like, why can't we understand such simple things. That's so easy, why are they so stupid? You couldn't understand that it was beyond us, could you? Nah, I dunno, really. At least it seemed so. I thought you were a genius. Like, already back then. What about you? Haven't you thought that?" "Not really". "I see." "The sound", - Noël touched his temple with a finger. "I can hear the sound. Over here. But no one else seems to hear it." "Well, of course not if it's inside your head." "But when I play it on instruments, they do." "Duh." "That's how it is." "Nah, I don't get it." "You don't?" "So what? Noël, that's no game for you, is it? Like hell. Hrm, how do I put it... That comes from your heart, right? You used to take this stuff very seriously. We weren't, for us that was just a way to look cool. Like, girls like that stuff. Fashion. <...> But you weren't like that. Were you?" "I wasn't". <end of quote!> When Kurikigawa gets sleepy, they go home, but Kurikigawa promises to come and visit Noël at the bar. When Noël comes home (he's renting a small flat for his own now) he doesn't go to sleep. Instead he turns his old PC on and opens a music-making program. And remembers Kurikigawa's words. Talent, he says, huh... 9. UTSUKUSHIKIMONO My problem with retelling this one is that it's mostly dialogues, which is fantastic, but hard to sum up x3 I'll try my best though. Ok, so it all starts with the small Monica asking her parents whenever is she going to meet the baby. It's when the spring comes. When comes the spring? It's when the almond tree blooms. What are almond flowers like? They're pink. What's pink? It's a color, brighter then red but not white. How's that even possible? Oh come on, Monica, you'll see it when the spring comes. When comes the spring? OH MONICA. Monice is, like, 3 years old (or turning three soon) and she can't wait. And one day the shit happens! Her mom suddenly feels bad (oh no!), her dad's all nervous and he says that they can only pray in the wait for the baby. Wait, is that the baby coming?.. Anyways, they do pray, and ah! Soon a servant is calling them to mom's room and there's the baby!!! OH WOW!!! In the following episodes we watch Monica and her little brother (I saw a beautiful assumption that he should be called Rolland, and that's how I'm going to call him) grow up step by step. In the beginning he's, like, still a baby, and in the next episode he's around 3 years old, while Monica is 6 (and it will be up to Monica's 13 or 14, I believe). He's asking why is it cold when autumn comes. She answers that's because winter is real soon. Is winter even more cold than autumn? It is. What comes next? It's spring - and then summer. Is it always repeating like that? It is! Why is it? No idea. How come you don't know, Monica? I dunno D= That must be God's doing. God is cool, isn't he... He is! Monica decides that next time she sees a priest she's going to ask how come seasons spin around and whether it's God's doing. And one more question: why is that her brother still can't walk? D= The next extract Monica's around seven, Rolland is about 4, I guess. She's going to school already and tells Rolland whatever they're doing there. Like, they're learning how to spell words. Rolland, do you know how to spell the word elephant? I don't, why? There's only one right way to do that, like they do in the books. Oh, I see - and what if you make a mistake? The teacher will scold you. And that's all? o.O You know how embarrassing it is to get scolded in front of your friends! No idea, it's not like I had any. How'bout me? O.o You're not my friend, you're my sister. Then they discuss what friendship is and how it differs from family. After a while Monica just says that when Rolland is old enough to go to school, she'll carry him on her back (spoiler: no, that's not happening). It gets nastier from the next episode on. The two are singing a funny French song, this one - https://youtu.be/aJVN8wHXz68 That's actually a song about a girl named Michele who's lost a cat. She cries and wants her cat back. And an old man Lustucru says he knows where the cat is. He asks, however, whatever his award will be. Michele promises him a kiss, but Lustucru doesn't want that and says he's sold her can to get himself a rabbit 8) Yes. That's an existing old French song about Michele and a cat. I thought it was SO cool that Jumonji-san actually managed to find it 8D So, as I said, the two were singing this song when suddenly Rolland started to cough. Apparently that was way too much of a stress for his lungs. He doesn't want to keep silent though and soon he asks what size cats are (he's never seen one). Monica tells a story about seeing a giant cat in the streets. Rolland doesn't really believe her, but tells that if she manages to draw it, he will trust the image. It's decided, then: Monica's asking their dad to buy her everything necessary to draw. Aren't just pencils enough? No they are not - Monica does want to make the picture credible!!! The next time Monica's found some new entertainment, which is a brand new (okay, not brand but rather new) instrument from Germany, a harmonica! She isn't playing too well yet, though, but Rolland is still fascinated. He also tries to play it a bit himself, but only a bit. After that he goes back to reading. He's in the middle of some new book, "Around the world in 80 days". Monica's never heard of that book, so she's asking what it’s about. She's really surprised by the plot and by the main character who basically made a rather meaningless bet for all of his fortune and tells that people like that can only be found in the books. To that Rolland notices that for him people in the books and real people outside the house are more or less the same. The children are growing little by little. In the next episode Monica and Rolland are discussing some of Monica's school fellows. There's that boy, Gerome, all so sassy and ready to fight. He seems clever though. Rolland says that the boy must feel lonely because no one really understands him, and even though he seems to have a lot of friends, none of them are as smart as he is, so he must feel really lonely (duh, no parallel with Noël, what are you talking about? x3). That seems right, and Monica's amazed how smart Rolland himself is. He knows so many things, and that's without really leaving home! That's because he's reading a lot of books apparently. As if his head had wings inside and was flying around, while his body was lying home. Now that's a creepy image... Speaking of creepy things, Monica tells that not a long ago their dad had a mysterious guest, who told his name was W. That W wanted their father to find a particular item, which is, in fact, a sculpture of the famous artist, Auguste Laurant. Funny enough, that statue, the so-called "Angel" is unknown. W has also asked to report it, if the father comes across a person with the name M... Remember Monica started to draw? Well, apparently that got more or less serious. She's making oil paintings, now. Her easel stands in Rolland's room, so she can draw there, while Rolland would read another book. Monica isn't completely sure though, whether she likes to draw or to play with the tools more (Auguste wouldn't have approved that for sure!). She's mostly drawing landscapes. That summer her father decided to go on a trip to the town of Étretat (that one is real, by the way!), and he took Monica, too. She didn't feel like going for more than a day, though, because she didn't want to leave Rolland behind (although Rolland wanted her to go see the world, too!). So, Monica did travel together with her dad after all (but only for one day!). She's always taking a sketchbook with her so that she could draw whatever she likes. There, in the town which is situated by the sea, she found a spectacular place to draw the landscape. Later her father told her that the famous artist Claude Monet used the same angles to picture that place [a series of paintings, google "claude monet etretat"]. Monica had never heard about that artist before so she actually felt offended that she unconsciously copied someone else's idea. She sighs about that even when she's sitting in front of her easel in Rolland's room, making oil-paintings out of those sketches. She says she doesn't want others' fame, she wants her own, even if it's a modest one x3 Rolland encourages her in a rather touching manner, which I'm too lazy to explain in detail. They go on with their business - Monica's drawing, Rolland's reading, when suddenly she notices he hasn't been turning pages in a while. At first she frightens that he doesn't move at all, but then she notices he's breathing after all, but he’s fallen asleep. She thinks about how she wants to do everything for him but how Rolland wouldn't appreciate that. She wakes him up and he wants to continue reading. He wanted to complete this book by evening. She tells him not to strain himself. He nods but goes on reading anyway. After that his health is going even worse. He can't sit anymore and he usually doesn't have the will to change his lying position. As the spring approaches, he's beginning to act a bit weird. Like, when the almond tree blooms, he has a talk with Monica, and he tells her about a similar tree that grows in Japan, which is sakura. "Japan is pretty far away" [Monica says] "People are good at getting far away." "You can sail very far on a ship. Papa told he's been to India!" "Some day..." Rolland's coughing was now really worrying Monica, and she started to caress her brother's back. He didn't like it when she was doing this. She knew that, yet she couldn't help doing it anyway. "...some day it will become possible to fly there on a plane." "No way." "But that's true!" "But why on plane and not on a flying balloon?" "I think people will be flying on planes in USA and Japan... Some day." "Tell whatever you like, I just can't imagine that." "Can't you?" "I can't." "I wish I could fly..." <end of quote> Seems like something's bothering Rolland a lot, and he seems very anxious, but he doesn't utter a word, he hesitates before even asking anything, and then he just asks Monica to play harmonica a bit. At summer he sees a dream. Of a clear sky, just like it is right now. How come he knows it was a dream? That's because he was walking there. Not really walking, because he wasn't moving his legs. More like moving along some path. Monica said that perhaps he was flying, just not very high up in the air. Rolland asks her to play harmonica again. She doesn't want to let off his hand, because it feels like letting go a small bird that will get away immediately. But she does, anyway. When autumn comes, they are lying together at night and watching up the starry sky. Rolland doesn't seem to like autumn, because it means that winter comes real soon. He's also afraid to sleep. Because he's afraid he wouldn't wake up again. Monika says it will be alright and she will always be there to wake him. "It's so silent..." "Should I play for you?" "But it's night" "It's fine, I'll be quiet" "Alright" "Rolland.." "What is it, Monica?" "All of the world is yours!" Rolland smiled, although only a bit. Monica didn't know as many words as Rolland did, and she wasn't good at composing poems, although she was trying her best. She felt she was unable to express what she meant to say. "Really!" she added before starting to play. To that Rolland only answered: "Is it?" In winter Monica was happy to see some first snow. But when she took a bit of it to show Rolland, he acted all indifferent. It seems like he's fighting something without showing a single sign. But he does suffer. He also feels that he's stealing everybody's time and doesn't even want everyone to celebrate Christmas with him. "Monica, leave me be. I'm fine!" "But I'm not. I don't wanna stay alone." "But I do. <...> Even without you, I know the world is full of beautiful things." "Yeah, I don't even doubt that. You know so much." "I close my eyes and I see beauty." "That means you can see something I can't" "I even like autumn!" "Haven't you told you didn't?" "I... don't hate it. You see, even those scarlet and golden leaves you are gathering are my treasure. I wish autumn would come again. <...>" "It's soon. But first it will have to become warmer, the hot summer will pass, and then it will get cooler again". "That's too long... <...> That's too long for me." Soon after that his condition gets even worse. His lips and nails get pale and dark. His voice almost disappears and he breathes heavily. He's asked Monica to bring all of her paintings, and they're now hanged on the walls. When he can keep his eyes opened, he looks at those. That wasn't for long though. When the almond blooms again, Rolland can't open his eyes anymore. His eyelids only tremble a bit from time to time, it feels like he's unconscious. A nurse is getting invited to the house, and that woman tells Monica that she can clearly see that her brother is delighted to hear her play harmonica. He certainly can hear it, even though he's unable to talk. Monica chats with him a lot, imagining what he would answer to her, and from his face she seems to see whether she guessed it right or wrong. Soon Rolland passes away. He clearly said "How beautiful" just before that. She doesn't call him but once. Because she knows he's on his way to other horizons in his search for beautiful things. This world was way too beautiful to spend all of his time fighting. So why distracting him by calling his name? She only kisses him silently at parting. And that was the last long story, I guess. a piece of Noël nr 8 Noël has successfully graduated and become a teacher. That was sort of lucky, because he's taking the place of a certain woman who suddenly took her maternity leave. We see Noël at his first day at school, how he's being presented to the children. And my, my, that's quite something XDDD He freezes seeing all the children faces, and an unknown melody starts to play in his head. He's delighted and he can't properly process his own thoughts at the moment. The teacher that was accompanying him tried to present him to the class, when Noël thought he was grown-up enough to do it himself, so he put a finger upon his lips and said: "shhhh!" to the teacher x3 After that he's getting acquaintanced with the class. "Noël... sensei?.." "What?" Noël answered, and then he realized it wasn't supposed to be phrased that way. "What is it?" "May I ask you something?" "You're welcome to. You may ask whatever you want. I will answer any question I can." "What about the questions you can't answer?" "I won't answer them" "Aah..." some of the pupils (three of them, to be exact) answered. <...> "I won't be answering questions that I cannot answer. But I promise I won't tell you a single lie" "You won't?" a girl asked seriously. She looked elder than her age, as if she was in the middle school already, and she didn't bother to stand up. Her voice sounded somewhat sassy, too (although that's no wonder if she had suffered from someone's lie). "I won't". "What if you do?" "I'll entrust you my life <...> And I'm not kidding. I mean it. I won't lie to you. I'm always keeping my promises. And I never give promises I can't keep". <end of the quote> He's being asked about his unusual eyes and hair color, and he answers that apparently one of his parents was a foreigner (but he's still a Japanese himself). Then he wins over the class when he's starting to ask their names and gives short commentary on everyone, and promises to remember every single name. But that's not all. After that follows another episode. Noël is visiting a person in a hospital. His grand-mother, to be exact. One and a half year before the described events he finally met her again. Unfortunately, she wasn't in the state to speak anymore. Actually, she's almost dead. She can't eat nor breathe on her own. Her brain-waves are almost extinct. Still he comes to visit her. At first it was very hard for him to not look away in disgust, but he's now used to it. He brought some oranges and, um, tries to let her smell them, hoping that perhaps she can feel something after all. He tells her about his job a bit. And thinks that his gran was always straining herself. Now she's locked herself away from the rest of the world and finally has the time to relax. When at hospital, he can't hear any sounds in his head for some reason. He also wonders if his gran really wants to get distracted by his visits. 10. TASOGARE NO KENJA A woman, Chloe, is walking around an old park. She's deep in her thoughts and not really paying attention to what she's doing. For instance, she's actually alone in a deserted park at night. That could be quite dangerous for a young woman. Yet she doesn't seem to think about that at all. All she does is sitting down a bench near a fountain and preparing herself to cry, muttering from time to time something like "What does it matter now..." She also seems to remember some young man, and that's where she's about to finally let her tears loose, when suddenly a voice interrupts the process: "Bonsoir, mademoiselle". The voice belongs to some mysterious man. I don't think I need to give you the description, but it's important that these clothes of his seem odd to the young Chloe, they seem out of date. His manner of speaking is quite weird, too. But since the language he's talking isn't her mother tongue, she isn't sure whether he has an accent or what. The man asks if he may sit with her. Uncomfortable as Chloe felt, she agreed (she always tends to do the opposite of what she's told, even if that's her voice of reason talking to her x3). The man talks to her and she's starting to suspect he's a stalker. Yet they do speak. The man sees that something is worrying her, but she only tells that she's a foreigner. The man notices that she speaks pretty fluently. That's actually surprising because she only started to study the language at university. Anyway, the only problem she gives away to have is that she has a hard time understanding her neighbours speaking. And feeling a bit lost in this country. Is that really a problem worth making 11 circles around the fountain? Apparently it is. Then the man starts to cite the song, confusing Chloe x3 In the end she does get the formula: 0 = nobody's here 1 = the man = Chloe = him = anyone 2 = the man + Chloe = 1+1 The man also tells his name's Savant. That's not his true name though. Well, she's Chloe. That's not her true name either, but her true name is apparently too difficult to pronounce. Then the two part. Chloe's living in a flat, not the smallest flat possible. Apparently she's a teacher, but since a while ago she doesn't work much. But she can't do anything at her spare time. She just either sits in the sofa or lies in her bed. She can't watch TV nor read books (she doesn't remember a word of what's written afterwards). Hating herself for doing nothing, she tries to compose a letter. But that one gets a mess and she throws it away. There are a lot of photos on the walls. Where the two are happy together... After a week she found herself in the very same park. She meets the man again. They talk. Savant cites the song again and Chloe's getting even more confused by it x3 After he ends the strophe with that "we're locking ourselves", or whatever was the precise quote from the English translation, Chloe thinks of how complicated the links between things are. She remembers how her mother taught her how to knit. Back then she thought it was the most boring thing ever: to interweave threads by always repeating the same movements... "Alright" Chloe nodded. "I'll try to explain". "You have my full attention" <...> "Here's me." "Yes, here's you". "Yup, right, me. And there's another person." "Me, I assume?" "No, not you", Chloe put her hands on her tummy. "Inside myself" "Hrm", Savant said, twisting his mustache. "In other words, your child?" "That's right, Savant. <...> Right. But there's no father" "Are you virgin Mary?" "Unfortunately not. Not that I had any issues with that. You see, the person that was supposed to become his father isn't here." "Isn't here anymore?" "He's gone forever" "That's sad" "It is. At least I'm very unhappy about that." "To give birth to a baby and raise it all alone. Well, that happens of course, but that's still rather troublesome." "That happens" "I guess so" "A lot, actually" "Yeah, you must be right." "I'm ill" <end of quote> She learned she had a disease after he was gone. And right now Chloe did burst into tears without even noticing it. Savant gives her a handkerchief and leaves. The next scene is taking place at a doctor's consulting room. Amara, Chloe's doctor, is telling her the situation, which's pretty nasty. She has cancer, stage III. There's still hope, but she will have to do an abortion. She asks for some more time to think about it. By the way he calls her by the real surname, which is Kuroeda. Soon after that she's having a conversation with Savant again. I don't really see the point in retelling this conversation in detail, really. I only have to mention that this reflects some motifs from Honoo (see above). They're talking in mathematical terms again. But Chloe thinks all those formulae aren't really applicable here. After all, 1+1 doesn't necessarily equal 2. It can be 0, if both she and the child die. But as the conversation goes on, she starts to realize that the truth is really hidden everywhere. Like, when it seemed like the time stopped in her conversation with Savant, she could still hear the fountain's sound. That means the time hasn't really stopped. The truth is, that even if the fountain steadily holds the same shape, the water is always different and the time never stops. It flows in one direction. We will all perish. 0+0=0, there's nothing. But if you accept the night when you have to go, the child will love the life too, right? No one else except her can give birth to this particular child, to whom she sort of addresses a monologue: "Even though a morning has come for you, there will inevitably be a night after that. Even if you see a light like a flame and stretch your hand to get a hold of a gem. Even if a windmill goes on spinning around on the windy hill by the place where you fall to the ground. Even though there will be stardust blinking above your head. Even if you manage to see an angel's smile. There might be days when you embrace happy and beautiful dreams, and days when you will be intoxicated by wine. Wandering, you will meet a wise man like I did [!!], and he will help you getting the true meaning of the message scattered all around the world... And in the end you'll set to the journey to the horizon. You're the same". Resolved, she stands up from the bench, she straightens her spine and goes away. <sudden twists incoming!!> Savant's still sitting on the bench and smiling, as if he's really-really pleased. Suddenly he can't hear the water noise anymore. That's because it's too late and the fountain got turned off. He knew and was expecting that. What he wasn't expecting though, is that there will suddenly appear a man with folds on his forehead and say in a weird voice: "I've been searching for you, Christophe". Yes. Christophe is M. That other man is W. They're opposite yet they're the same thing. They're like two shatters of the same poem. W has been chasing M for a long long time. W calls M 'metamorphos', in kanji - "shapeless". M calls W Wulfric, the 'wolf-ruler', and also 'the Winter one'. W wants to kill M. M only laughs, because Wulfric's too late again, anyway. While Wulfric wants to end everything, M knows there's no such thing as an "end". Even if W kills M, it doesn't really change anything. M hopes that W will get it one day. [The human lives]"Repeating the story, death and loss, revolving Paradise and Abyss! Boys keep on drawing romans even when they go. And that's the true essence of Roman!" [M says] "I can't agree with you" "Still I believe we will come to understand each other one day." "Well, you're free to believe that" said Wulfric, putting his finger on the trigger "if you can" <...> A shot banged, and the world continued to be there without any changes. The night passed and a new morning began. Morning and night continued to replace each other. a piece of Noël nr 9 (apparently the longest one of the pieces! oh, and I'll be citing a lot!) Noël's gran is dead and they're holding a funeral. Remember Nuiko, the woman Noël was living by when he was a child? She's also there, moreover, she was mostly in charge for arranging the funeral. Noël is sort of enraptured by how she managed to treat funeral services from the economical point of view (as if it was all about the money). But he also thinks how kind it is of her to process all the stuff for the person who wasn't her mother. She isn't all that heartless he guesses. Her family (i.e. Ryuuetsu and Norio, the other boy I haven't mentioned in the piece nr 3) is there too, along with her husband. That one is standing by the car, though, he isn't coming to the burial itself) and Noël are the only ones who actually made it to the cemetery. While all the others seem quite indifferent and/or bored, Noël's not: "Noël was looking at the gravestone and speaking without a sound: That's all, granny... No, he corrected himself in a second - baba [I don't remember how it was translated by Defade. you know, baba's somewhat ruder than obaa-chan]. That's all, baba. You were put silently to sleep, getting cut off all those pipes - that's no fun, huh? Not that you were any fun at all. Had you regained consciousness, you'd think you want someone to kill you already, no doubt. Although you hadn't. That wasn't really 'life', was it? Yet you were being kept 'alive'. And I was talking to you as if you had been alive. Although I knew it was a lie. Had I had at least a shatter of kindness, I'd get you cut off the artificial breath right off. You must know, I was actually thinking about it, but not that I was considering that seriously, like, weighting pros and cons and such. And I didn't want to, to tell you the truth. I haven't done anything for you. You died all alone. I let you die all alone. Baba. Granny. I'm not apologizing. But I will tell you from the bottom of my heart. I didn't hate you. You were stiff, you lived alone and you died alone, but I don't hate you. I'm proud of you and I have respect for you. And I feel lonely because of your death." <end of quote> Then the weather gets worse and the family decides to leave asap. They're not taking Noël though. Their ways part here. At parting Nuiko tells though that all of the old woman's belongings are in a storage now, and Noël gotta sort them out in the upcoming three days. Noël was rather planning to get rid of all of them, but the old man on the encounter advised him to take a look at least. And so Noël did. There weren't many things, but there were some. Some old drawer for example, but we'll come to that later. Noël spots a bag he can remember his gran wearing back in piece nr 1, He actually tries to copy her manner to walk with that bag. And thinks how it seemed so cool and so warlike, as if she were fighting the whole world. He thinks again that he didn't hate her. He doesn't have the right to say that he loved her, though, because he did nothing. Had he loved her, he would hug her and try to be her ally in this fight against the world. Well then, the drawer. Some meds in the upper shelves, no papers (Nuiko must've taken those already), an old kimono with a nostalgic scent he could remember from his childhood. Then finally the bottom shelf. Some photoalbums (Noël wants to take a closer look at the old photos and decides to take those), postcards from random people - nothing special. And finally three letters all written by the same person from different places. Two are just envelopes, but the last one still has the letter inside. Noël takes that one. Seems very old, and it's been reread so many times that it got really decrepit by the bends. It also seems as if it's been under a rain or something, the paper's all wavy. It's hardly readable though. Except for one last line. You know which. Following - a passage about how shitty is the world and how so many bad things are happening, and how life is not priceless but worthless, and how there die a lot of people every second. But no one wants to notice this. Because that's tough. People aren't allowed to be kind to other people or they'll break. "He was never creating illusions that anyone wanted his birth. He just couldn't imagine that. Because he had had such a miserable life. Because he was feeling lonely. Because he was feeling sad. Because he had pitied himself. He wanted to hate! To hate from the bottom of his heart, to be rude, to destroy. Then he would have forgotten how miserable he was. There would be no more loneliness or sadness. But, unfortunately, he pitied himself. Perhaps he was an unwanted child, yet he valued himself. And he wanted to think that it's fine that he's allowed to live. He wanted to believe. However miserable, lonely and sad his life was, but he was also living it sort of furious and with all his strength. He was grasping and clinging onto it. He tried to love the world. To forgive. And thus to deserve forgiveness. It's fine for me to live, isn't it? Of course it is - that's what he wanted to hear as an answer. At least little by little! Let the others acknowledge his right to live. He isn't bothering anyone. He isn't a threat to anyone. If left in peace, he never does anything bad to anyone. Isn't it fine if he just lives here?" Noël's drinking hard. And keeps remembering those enchanted words from the letter. He thinks that his life wasn't all that bad actually. Like, there's no devastating war. And he does live in a hi-tech country and he has Internet. How amazing is that?! He can upload the pieces of music that are roaming through his head for everyone to hear. Isn't that a salvation? He can't bear it when he's sober so he's drunk pretty constantly. He thinks that it's not like there's a door which one can only go through with a signed license from one's mother that he's allowed to live. No one will ever guess that a child is unwanted unless someone tells that. He's trying to think that his mother didn't mean it perhaps, that it was just a figure, because she felt upset or something... But then, when he tried to speak about that to some strangers, he got into a fight and ended up getting a little beaten and sitting in some side-street, looking at the stars with his lips bleeding. And thinking of how all the stars will vanish, and nothing can help. He can't find the meaning anymore. He thinks he needs to tell that to his pupils. And how much of a shit he was for wanting to use these children to find a meaning for himself. It's Christmas Eve. Noël's drunk again, he's standing in the street, looking at celebrating people. He's smiling and singing Christmas carols. Shit happened. The teacher, who had taken the maternity leave, came back to the school. Her baby didn't survive after all, and she wants to get back to work asap. Noël quits. He can't remember much after that, apparently he was drinking all along. Already drunk, he goes to some bar. It's full packed, and Noël can sort of hear some music there, but he doesn't even seem to realize it's inside his head. There he falls asleep, having ordered a whiskey. When he wakes up he discovers his wallet is gone, so he gets beaten up again by the other customers. He goes away after that and ends up sitting in some side-street, looking at the stars and the freezing white moon with his lips bleeding and a the feeling of deja-vu. He thinks he should just lock in himself and bear this shitty life until he's gone. Without hoping or believing. When suddenly he notices a black figure... After the fated line, "I have heard your music", Noël freaks out and can't understand how it’s possible to establish the link between those pieces he's uploaded and himself. And how come anyone could know he'd be here (he doesn't even know where he is himself). But you know the scenario and which book he's about to receive... The last thing Revo gets to say in this chapter is "Stream your song. You can do that, and you cannot do otherwise". 11. 11-MOJI NO DENGON Chloe-san's back! (she's named in the preface of the chapter with the list of characters, but I don't think her name is mentioned even once in the chapter itself). She's also back to Japan, btw. She's become much skinnier now, and her disease's pretty bad. Still, having put on her jacket which is now too big for her body, and putting on sun-glasses she wanders off from the hospital. Walking through the morning streets, she remembers her messy life. How she fell in love with a foreign student when she was 20, and how mad that love was, and how they didn't want to part for even one moment. At some point she reaches a park and there she sees a fountain with a bench not far from it. There she sits. Her thoughts are getting a bit messy, too. She can't feel much pain, though. Perhaps they should've tried a bit harder to pursue her mother to give them her blessing, but instead they decided to go to his motherland. His adoptive parents weren't really happy to see their boy gave up on his study for some Japanese girl. Moreover, they were in the middle of getting a divorce, too, so they hadn't really helped at all. It could still be pretty fine had she not become pregnant. After that her husband gave up on all the part-time jobs and went to some mining company. Soon enough there was rumored to have been some kind of an accident. She got reported that apparently he died, but no details had been revealed, and soon that company just disappeared in the thin air. Then the news about her illness. How would her life have changed if she had made other decisions? No idea, but at least there's one decision she doesn't doubt. That's giving birth to her child. She felt already pretty weak by that time and even fell unconscious soon after the birth. Well, at least she did manage to meet her mother and tell her the situation personally, and not in some messy letter (which she had sent earlier and which was just really messy). And for the first time in her life she saw her mother crying. She can remember her husband hearing the news. When it was confirmed she's pregnant and would give birth around December, he muttered something like "Winter... or maybe Christmas" - she's remembered both names but couldn't decide for one until she's given the birth to their baby. She would want to apologize personally when you grow up and blame her for leaving you right after you were born. What would you do then? You'd probably laugh. "You probably can laugh by now, can you? I wish I could hear you laugh. See your smile. <...> Say, you would be getting spoiled a bit, right? And loved. You'll come to meet different people. Some will become your friends, you'll fall in love with some others. But it's probably not going to be always just fun. There will be hard times, too. You would be betrayed and wounded sometimes, and you'll injure someone too, I guess. But that'll hit you as well. You'll be regretting it and think about that a lot, and you'll be failing some tasks. Sometimes you'll be in pain. You will be for sure. But you know what? When that pain becomes unbearable, you may just squat down. And feel like you want to run away a bit. But if you can, I would like you to face your hardships bravely. I think at times you really need courage to live a life. Never give up, alright? Whatever may be, never give up. Don't give up until your last day. Because that's a no go. Because that's your life. <...> Please don't ask me what kind of a life I wish you would have. Just live as you feel it. No, really, please do! You are born already, isn't that alone great? But I beg you. Please do live. I want you to live. Don't forget that. Remember. You are born because I really wanted you to be. I'm so glad I gave you life. I'm so glad I gave life to you. I miss you. I miss you so much. I wanted to come, but apparently that's too far. So far... I'm sorry. I can't really see anymore. I guess there's almost no time left. But I can still hear the fountain. So dark. You face... Laugh! Please. Laugh. I want to see you, but... I want to keep an eye on you, but... alas. Rin to ikinasai [sry x3] And I hope you... b-e-c-o-m-e-h-a-..." <end of the quote> We see "you" from the beginning again. You turn around to see a gate, and both Violette and Hortense are standing there, not uttering a single sound. They don't tell you what to do. Yet you step forward. a piece of Noël nr 10 Very unusual language-wise, but sorry, that's getting completely neglected x'3 We're in the beginning of a live. Noël's all excited. When will it finally begin? It's all dark, because the lights are off. Finally they go to the stage. Spectators can sort of feel and see by the little light they do have that the musicians are on the stage already, so they're getting overexcited. Noël just can't wait. He's putting a lot of effort not to grasp the microphone yet. And still... When they do begin playing, Noël suddenly doesn't sing 83 The music slowly ceases. Everyone's staring at him (Ichizo's panicking in the backstage). They've been having so many rehearsals. Everything should be fine. Yet there's something he has to do right here and right now. Noël does take the microphone and starts to hold a speech. Translating most of it below. "When we had just met, gurasan said something to me. That "musicians' souls are free". Musicians'. I was sitting there all down, and he suddenly called me a musician. He acknowledged me as an equal to himself. Well yeah. Apparently I am a musician. <...> I'm not a good talker, really, but I can tell everything I want with music. <...> Then why am I standing here and blabbering instead? Listen. Gurasan said that musicians' souls were free. But does that apply solely to musicians? You know what. Freedom isn't easy. You can't gain it just like that. You can't even feel it just like that, actually. But you know what. Just think. Close your eyes and think. Of whatever you want. Of whatever comes to your mind. Like, of your beloved being, for example. A reminiscence. Whatever. Got it? Were you free at that moment? The soul's freedom isn't something that only musicians have. You are all free <...> I am a musician. Gurasan's right, damn my poor destiny. It's been following me ever since I was a kid. That's my fate. If you're a musician you can't run away from that <...>. But even though I'm a musician, I'm also a human. Just like you guys. Our life is much like a journey. A long or a short one, that depends on a person, but we are all wandering. We are heading to another horizon. Some of us walk under the very same sky and see and hear the very same things. Our ways cross and part. We're all wanderers. You and I - we're all free wanderers. That's what I wanted to begin with. Not as a musician. That's where my free journey begins. I'm no different from you. At all. Yes, I'm standing at this place and I do mean it. Well okay, perhaps I can see a bit better from this spot up here on the stage. I can see every one of you, every face. And you're all staring at me. It feels so weird, you know. Why am I standing here? <telling short of his meeting with Revo and finding the musicians> What about yourselves? How come you're here? Huh? What? Who said that? Could you please repeat, I couldn't hear. Ah... by chance, you say? Because you were born in this country at this time? Thanks for giving me life, mother? I see. No, really, give my shitty thanks to your mom, please. That's how it is, isn't it? We all get born to begin with. Someone's giving us a life. There are different circumstances, and very complicated ones, too, I can't agree more. But we did end up getting born. Whatever may be, we're all here right now. We're different, yet we're the same if you think about it. Me, you, us, here and now. And that's the point. Have you experienced something fun lately? Or something sad perhaps? Something hard? It wasn't in vain. It's all our roman. What is your way like? Is it comfortable? Full of dead-ends? Do you have to reverse all the time? And then onwards, with the gas pedal down? You feel like your legs are all broken? You try your best? Ah, that one's nice. What? You can't hold anymore? Yes, that happens too. Listen, wanderers. Fellows. Friends. Like-minders. You may as well be me. We may be different but we have the same roots. One day I will cross a completely different horizon. And even if we're born in the same country and in one century, we still see different landscapes and experience things differently. <...> But we're here and now. Our horizons have linked. Having met you guys, I acknowledge the way that led me to this meeting. And I can't help valuing myself. And you too, obviously. Well then, wanderers. Soon we will take off again, but as for now - let your wings rest a bit. Listen to my song. Listen to our play. Feel it with your body. Our roman. Vanishing Starlight. Yodaka no Hoshi..." This blinking star will vanish one day, but me [ore], and me [boku] and you, and all of you, and we will continue our journey across the horizon where morning and night revolve. Because there's roman there. (the end.)

[kacydeneen]

Family, Friends Mourn California Boat Fire Victims

Family and friends converged on Southern California to learn the fates of their loved ones after a commercial scuba boat erupted in flames off the coast near Santa Cruz Island on Labor Day, leaving 34 people confirmed or presumed dead.

Among those who lost their lives were a 41-year-old marine biologist, a 25-year-old crew member who was dedicated to the Southern California scuba community and three sisters celebrating a birthday for their father, also presumed dead.

Man Who Rescued 5 Survivors From Deadly Boat Fire Shares Horrific Story

Here are their stories.

Diana Adamic

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Adamic died on the scuba trip along with her husband, Steve Salika and his daughter, Tia, a student at Pacific Collegiate School, a charter school in Santa Cruz. Tia's fellow student Berenice Felipe also died on the trip.

"Obviously, our hearts are with these two PCS families, and we hope and pray that they are found safe," wrote Maria C. Reitano, the head of the school. "As we await more information, please know that PCS is prepared to respond to difficult times such as this. We will have additional counselors on site tomorrow and in the days to come, who are trained to help support students, staff, parents, and our entire school community. This tragedy is sure to raise many emotions, concerns, and questions for our entire school, especially our students."

Neal Baltz

Baltz died on the scuba trip with his girlfriend, Patricia Beitzinger, said Beitzinger's niece, Hannah.

Hannah said in a Facebook message that her aunt and Baltz were perfect for each other.

Patricia Beitzinger

Beitzinger died on the scuba trip with her boyfriend, Neal Baltz, said Beitzinger's niece, Hannah.

"She's one of the coolest people I ever met," Hannah said in a Facebook message. "She was adventurous and brave and always living every day as full as she could, she was always going on these amazing trips around the world. And so goofy she has a great sense of humor and was always smiling and laughing. And Neal was the same way, they were perfect for each other and I considered him my uncle as well."

Kendra Chan

Kendra Chan was on the boat with her father, R. Scott Chan, a physics teacher at American High School in Fremont. In a Facebook post, Kendra's brother, Kevin, wrote: "Thanks for being my big sister, Kendra. I'll miss you and your love for all things outdoors and underwater. Rest easy."

Raymond Scott Chan

Raymond Scott Chan, a physics teacher in Northern California, was identified as one of the people killed in the boat fire off the coast of Santa Cruz island, according to the Fremont Unified School District. His daughter Kendra, a marine biologist in Southern California, also was aboard the Conception.

The school district tweeted, "We are saddened to report the passing of American High School Physics Teacher, Raymond (Scott) Chan, who was among the fatalities of this weekend's boat fire off the coast of Santa Barbara. We send our condolences to Mr. Chan's family and the American High School community."

Berenice Felipe

Berenice, a student at Pacific Collegiate School, a charter school in Santa Cruz, died on the scuba trip with fellow student Tia Salika and Salika's parents.

"Obviously, our hearts are with these two PCS families, and we hope and pray that they are found safe," wrote Maria C. Reitano, the head of the school. "As we await more information, please know that PCS is prepared to respond to difficult times such as this. We will have additional counselors on site tomorrow and in the days to come, who are trained to help support students, staff, parents, and our entire school community. This tragedy is sure to raise many emotions, concerns, and questions for our entire school, especially our students."

Kristy Finstad, 41

Finstad was a diving enthusiast who was leading the dive trip as the co-owner of Worldwide Diving Adventures.

She ran the company with her husband, Dan Chua, who was leading another dive in Costa Rica when the boat Finstad was on caught fire.

Finstad's brother Brett Harmeling of Houston asked for prayers in a Facebook post.

"Thank You ALL for your unconditional love and support during this incredibly tragic time," he wrote. "My family and I truly appreciate it. "No final word on my sister Kristy; however, it is likely she has transitioned to be with the good Lord."

Daniel Garcia

Garcia, from Berkeley, worked for Apple. He was on the boat with his girlfriend, Yulia Krashennaya.

Nicole, Angela Rose, Evan and Michael Quitasol and Fernisa Sison

The Quitasol sisters were celebrating the birthday of their father Michael, who is also presumed dead, their mother Susana Rosas said on Facebook. Their stepmother, Fernisa Sison was also on board.

"It is with a broken heart ... 3 of our daughters were on this boat," she wrote on Facebook. "As of now they are still missing. My #1, Evanmichel Solano Quitasol, my #3, NicoleStorm Quitasol and my #4, Angela Rose Quitasol. My girls' dad Michel Storm Quitasol and stepmom were also on the boat."

Nicole Quitasol lived in San Diego and worked at Nicky Rottens Bar & Burger Joint in Coronado for the last four years, according to the restaurant.

"She was one of a kind. She was ahead of her time, for sure. An old soul that was just in love the outdoors, anything to do with her dog, peanut butter, anything to do with water, beaches, diving, paddle boarding — I mean, that was her life," Nicky Rottens CFO Bryn Butolph told NBC7.

Marybeth Guiney

Guiney, a sales director and ocean enthusiast who was dedicated to the protection of sharks and other sea life, was hailed by friends as an outgoing figure who always had a smile.

"She was such an inspiration, a voice to help understand and protect sharks, and shared her pictures and stories as she traveled the world," one friend wrote on Facebook. "She was endlessly energetic, optimistic and always had a smile to share. Just can't believe it. What a tragedy for so many."

Another wrote: "Her gentle and sweet nature made her a great companion ... Marybeth was 'good people.'"' Another added: "You were hysterical. You were real. I will always think about you and smile."

Alexandra Kurtz, 25

Family described Kurtz as an energetic go-getter who was passionate about scuba diving and lived life to the fullest.

"She loved it here," Kurtz's sister Cherie McDonough said. "She loved the boat. She loved diving."

She also loved exploring nature in the ocean and had been embraced by Southern California's tight-knit diving community, her sister said.

Charles McIlvain

McIlvain, according to his Facebook page, worked as a visual effects designer for Walt Disney Imagineering.

His wife, filmmaker Jasmine Lord, was not with him on the Conception dive boat. Her online posts indicated she was working over the weekend in Miami — in the path of Hurricane Dorian.

After receiving news of the deadly fire, McIlvain's friends poured out their hearts online, calling him one of "the kindest, funniest people you'll ever meet."

"Anyone who knew Charles 'Chuck' McIlvain would know how full of life he was, how contagious his laugh and his smile was and what a warm soul he had," another friend wrote.

Neighbors of the pair in Santa Monica said that Guiney would often go on dive trips with McIlvain and his wife. Of McIlvain, one neighbor told the station: "He's the kind of guy who's always happy — 8 o'clock in the morning, he's happy. Comes home from work at 7, he's happy."

The Malibu Divers dive shop posted on its Facebook page: "All of us are devastated by the Conception dive boat tragedy. We'd like to honor Charles McIlvain and Marybeth Guiney by asking you to tell a story about a dive adventure or (anecdote) you had with them. Please share, I know it will help us all."

Steve and Tia Salika

Tia Salika, a student at Pacific Collegiate School, a charter school in Santa Cruz, died on the scuba trip with her parents and fellow student Berenice Felipe.

"Obviously, our hearts are with these two PCS families, and we hope and pray that they are found safe," wrote Maria C. Reitano, the head of the school. "As we await more information, please know that PCS is prepared to respond to difficult times such as this. We will have additional counselors on site tomorrow and in the days to come, who are trained to help support students, staff, parents, and our entire school community. This tragedy is sure to raise many emotions, concerns, and questions for our entire school, especially our students." 

Editor's note: This video in this story has been removed as it incorrectly identified a victim. 

Photo Credit: Getty Images Family, Friends Mourn California Boat Fire Victims published first on Miami News

[richmeganews]

Recruiting Women to Online Dating Was a Challenge

“Abstinence ... Animal rights ... Very conservative ... Marijuana OK ... Children should be given guidelines ... Religion guides my life ... Make charitable contributions ... Would initiate hugs if I wasn’t so shy ... Enjoy a good argument ... Have to-do lists that seldom get done ... Sweet food, baked goods ... Artificial or missing limbs ... Over 300 pounds ... Drag ... Exploring my orientation ... Women should pay.”

By the fall of 1994, Gary Kremen was working toward launching the first dating site online, Match.com. There was another four-letter word for love, he knew, and it was data, the stuff he would use to match people. No one had done this, so he had to start from scratch, drawing on instinct and his own dating experience.

Generating data—based on the interests of a person in categories such as the ones he was typing out on his PC (“Mice/gerbils or similar ... Smooth torso/not-hairy body”)—would be the key to the success of Match; it was what would distinguish electronic dating from all other forms. He could gather data about each client—attributes, interests, desires for mates—and then compare them with other clients to make matches. With a computer and the internet, he could eliminate the inefficiencies of thousands of years of analog dating: the shyness, the missed cues, the posturing. He would provide customers with a questionnaire, generate a series of answers, then pair up daters based on how well their preferences aligned.

This post is adapted from Kushner’s new book.

Kremen started from his own experience—putting down the attributes that mattered to him: education, style of humor, occupation, and so on. With the help of others, the headings on the list grew—religious identity/observance, behavior/thinking—along with subcategories, including 14 alone under the heading of “Active role in political/social movements” (“Free international trade ... gender equality”). Before long, there were more than 75 categories of questions, including one devoted to sex—down to the most specific of interests (including a subcategory of “muscle” fetishes).

But the more he thought about it, the closer he came to an important realization: He wasn’t the customer. In fact, no guys were the customers. While men would be writing the checks for the service, they wouldn’t be doing anything if women weren’t there. Women, then, were his true targets, because, as he put it, “every woman would bring a hundred geeky guys.” Therefore, his goal was clear, but incredibly daunting: He had to make a dating service that was friendly to women, who represented just about 10 percent of those online at the time. According to the latest stats, the typical computer user was unmarried and at a computer for hours upon hours a week, so the opportunity seemed ripe.

To enrich his research into what women would want in such an innovation, Kremen sought out women’s input himself, asking everyone he knew—friends, family, even women he stopped on the street—what qualities they were looking for in a match. It was an essential moment, letting go of his own ego, understanding that the best way to build his market was to enlist people who knew more than him: women.

In his mind, if he could just put himself in their shoes, he could figure out their problems, and give them what they needed. He’d hand over his questionnaire, eager to get their input—only to see them scrunch up their faces and say “Ewwww.” The explicit sexual questions went down with a thud, and the notion that they would use their real names—and photos—seemed clueless. Many didn’t want some random guys to see their pictures online along with their real names, let alone suffer the embarrassment of family and friends finding them. “I don’t want anyone to know my real name,” they’d say. “What if my dad saw it?”

[Read: The lure of online dating is not, in fact, irresistible ]

Kremen went to Peng Ong and Kevin Kunzelman, the men who were developing programming for Match, and had them implement privacy features that would mask a customer’s real email address behind an anonymous one on the service. But there was a bigger problem: He needed a female perspective on his team. He reached out to Fran Maier, a former classmate from Stanford’s business school. Maier, a brash mother of two, had always been compelled, albeit warily, by Kremen—“his fanaticism, his energy, his intensity, his competition,” as she put it. When he ran into her at a Stanford event and told her about his new venture, he was just as revved. “We’re bringing classifieds onto the internet,” he told her, and explained that he wanted her to do “gender-based marketing” for Match.

Maier, who’d been working at Clorox and AAA, jumped at the chance to get in on the new world online as the director of marketing. To her, Kremen’s passion and pioneering spirit felt infectious. And the fact that he was turning over the reins to her felt refreshingly empowering, given the boys’ club she had been used to in business. Maier showed up to the basement office with pizza and Chinese food and got to work.

One day, an engineer at Match asked her, “What weight categories do you want in the questionnaire?” She arched her brow. “Oh no,” she said. “We’re not asking that.” Women never want to put down their weight, she explained to the dubious guys. Instead, she had them include a category for body type—athletic, slim, tall, and so on. She also cut down Kremen’s intimidating laundry list of questions. Fewer questions enticed more people to register, which meant a larger database and a greater selection of potential matches.

But they had a catch-22. Women weren’t going to join unless there were other women online. Maier, along with other women brought on to help spread the word, started by recruiting friends. They created a logo—a radiant red heart inside a purple circle—and printed up promotional brochures. To entice people to try out the service, they held promotional events at happy hours in Palo Alto, where the turnout was generally, as the Match marketing executive Alexandra Bailliere put it, “30 guys with pocket protectors and no women in sight.”

Trish McDermott, a marketing executive who’d worked for a matchmaking firm and founded a dating-business trade association, and the others would slip on fake wedding bands to ward off the guys. “Are you interested in meeting new people?” she’d say. “This is a new dating site, like personals in the newspaper but it’s on the internet.” Then she’d get a blank stare as the person would ask, “What’s the internet?”

They weren’t just targeting heterosexual women; they were going for the lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender communities. Match’s marketing consultant, Simon Glinsky, pointed out to Kremen how the gay community had already been early adopters online, using bulletin boards and nascent communities such as America Online, CompuServe, and Prodigy for dating. Glinsky related from his own experience, having grown up in Georgia, where meeting other gays was a struggle.

Glinsky went to a gay computer club, where members gathered to talk about AOL and the latest deals at Radio Shack, to explain Match to the crowd. Match held a promotion during a gay skate night at a roller rink in Burlingame, just north of Palo Alto. Bailliere and Glinsky urged skaters to come over and learn more about Match, offering to take their photos with giant digital cameras—which seemed exotic at the time. One by one, the skaters marveled at seeing their faces appear on the computers, and word began to spread.

The San Francisco Examiner ran an early piece on Match, speculating that it could transform the “grand old dating game,” as it put it. “What happens when singles have an alternative to bars,” the article went on, “and don’t just meet based on first impression/physical attractiveness alone?”

[Read: The 5 years that changed dating]

On April 21, 1995, Kremen launched Match.com. Match was a free service, supported by ads, with the idea to charge for subscriptions when it grew. And there was only one way for it to reach that point. “We need more women!” Kremen shouted, storming through their basement office. “Everyone wants to go to a party where there’s women!” he said. “Every woman means 10 guys join!”

Since they didn’t have any women besides their own employees and their handful of friends, they had to create some themselves. Maier dispatched interns to Usenet groups, where they posted laudatory reviews of Match. When Rolling Stone wanted to run a piece on Match, along with a sample profile of a female member, the women at the office scrambled to invent one. Bailliere drew the short straw, slipped a black jacket over a white T-shirt, and smiled for the camera. Her fake profile, “Sally,” said she was seeking a 25-to-35-year-old guy for an Activities Partner, Short Term Romance, or Long Term Romance to “go hiking and have LOTS of fun.” (Match.com did not respond to a request for comment.)

Having her profile, albeit fake, in a high-profile magazine sent a stream of messages to the email Bailliere had set up. A German in Brazil told her he wanted to use her to re-create Nazi youth camps, and became so obsessive that she grew nervous. “Gary,” she told Kremen, “I don’t know who this person is or if he’s really even in Brazil.” Concerned, the team worked with consultants to develop safety guidelines, such as meeting prospective men from the internet in public places. Maier had them market Match as “safe, anonymous, and fun.” They also invented self-policing tools for people on Match—such as giving them the ability to block and report others for bad behavior.

The site’s PR executive, McDermott, began hosting a weekly chat session called “Tuesdays With Trish” to dole out dating advice. She billed Match as the dating solution for the emerging online generation. “We’re delaying marriage,” she’d tell reporters. “Many of us moved away from home, and many were just moving from suburbs and starting careers and we lost all that fabric of informal matchmaking when we stay home … You can put a profile up this morning and that night have a response waiting for you.”

This post is adapted from David Kushner’s new book, The Player’s Ball: A Genius, a Con Man, and the Secret History of the Internet’s Rise.

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