We don't need another f*ck Viacom video, what we need is 12 F*CK YOU's of VIACOM. This video is a list of 12 things that piss me off about Viacom. Something The NOSTALGIA CRITIC would really appreciate and relate to (Viacom deletes videos off of Youtube). This is number SIX in The 12 Fuck You Series. You can help support this video by commenting, rating, responding and showing others!
FU #1 The fact that Viacom thinks they own everything. They think they own every fucking piece of production that exists out there! The only thing Viacom owns is that giant head that's been stuck up their ass ever since YouTube was created.
A few days ago, I posted a list of 5 tricks that the gaming industry likes to pull that really pissed me off, and it went off really well. It turns out I'm not the only one who's sick and tired of quicktime events, needless hype, and poor learning curves. There was some argument about needless gimmicks, but hey, if we all agreed on everything we'd be a bunch of mindless zombies, and as cool as that would be, I find human flesh to be rather foul tasting. My point is, we all like pointing fingers at the game makers, and apparently there's some stuff I missed that people feel need to be added to that list. Well, maybe I'll do that after all the October Hall of Fame columns.
But, as much as we like to wail on game designers for their shittiness, the reality is that we gamers aren't a sinless bunch either. There are several things that many gamers like to do that are (at best) rude, (worse) delve into outright faggotry, and (at worst) make me question the existence of a kind and loving God because he hasn't given me the ability to reach through the internet and rip out the heart of the douchebag on the other end. After gathering testimonies and spending a little bit of time on Xbox Live (Don't look at me like that. You know it as well as I do) and other online game services, I've gathered enough information not only to write this column but also to consider swearing off online gaming (and possibly humanity) for good. Here's the ones that piss us off the most.
A quick bit of slice-of-life as I wrap up on a good amount of new postable-pieces, shall we? Coming your way is a new Top Ten, some new graphics, another Mulled Over movie review, and a bunch of random thoughts to keep the oddness of my being fresh in your mind. You'll be seeing those in the next couple of days, but for now, let's talk about how I hate my new house...
(We once again return to me posting pictures that reflect what I am saying, although are not taken by me, just a general reminder)
From the IE to the OC
Today was the day that I had to make my way down to Tustin, CA to meet with my new landlord and check out my digs for a 6 month lease (at least) while I round out my undergraduate studies at the University of California, Irvine. As my luck would have it, I continue my trend of living in the boondocks of the respective cities of my colleges, this time in a completely different town all together! But more on that in a bit, let's bitch about how much it was a bugger to get down there in the first place.
As it was a Sunday, I was expecting travel to be a bit of bitch, but the Metrolink station (a railed mass transit system ala San Fransisco's Bart train) only had one train going down into Orange County that day, and it was at 9:15 that morning. The waking up was no issue, I had gotten used to earlier hours working on the film set a week or so prior. My roommates were out the night/morning previous partying, and the one charged with driving me the mile or so to the Station was wasted enough to be impossible to wake. Luckily, my other roommate was conscious enough to be awoken by my knocking at the opposite door and offered to drive me if I would stop the racket. I agreed, and we were off.
I arrived at the station shortly before my train was supposed to take off, apparently too shortly. You know how, in most films, whenever a main character misses a taxi, bus, train, or car, its always by THAT much, so they run and wave their arms in vain in the direction of the receding vehicle? Yeah, that was me. Bloody fucking cockmelon of a morning that was. This uniformed bitch was apparently humored enough by my running jiggliness to inform me that it was, indeed, the only train going out that day. I cursed under my breath and collapsed on a nearby bench, defeated. I then, after a brief moment of self-pity, began the rapid-fire friend calling.
Even single person I knew the area got a voicemail message of me, sadly lamenting my situation and begging for a transport (with compensated gas for good measure). Unfortunately, none were able to provide, as I found out gradually as I walked from the station to the bus stop to return home, stopping at an ATM to deposit some cash on the way. I briefly checked into the Greyhound station to see if they went anywhere near Irvine, but was denied. I caught a bus back home and sulked as the last of my friends texted me with regrets. In desperation, I re-knocked on my wasted roommate's door and was able to bring her still-dizzy body to cognitive reason with my pitiful railings.
We then set sail on multiple freeways toward Tustin, along the way my roommate retold some of the more humorous aspects of her partying. We arrived in less than an hour, and I traveled around the townhouse complex trying to remember what bloody number to look for. After a few calls to the landlord, Michelle, I found #42 and got a brief tour of the place.
Not that I'm too picky, but this room was about 2/3 the size of my current room (not so much a big deal) and AC-less (gigantic, colossal, humongous, extraordinarily fucking big deal!), but due to time constraints I signed a check for the first month's rent and the deposit then and there and shoved my ass out to explore the city before catching a Metrolink back home.
As I was walking along the streets around Tustin, I noticed a disturbing lack of bus stops in the area. I would later find out that my student ID will act as a free bus pass, and that the needed stop to get to campus was within a quasi-reasonable walking distance, but around that time it added to my stress. I eventually found my way to the Metro station and bought a ticket to San Bernadino (it wouldn't allow me to buy a ticket direct to Riverside for some reason) and took a break at the Jack in the Box a few blocks away. Watched an episode of the West Wing on my computer while I ate some mozzarella sticks (first time eating) and passed the time. I was able to return to the station and hitch my ride, and I spent the next hour or so on the train listening to my walkman and thinking about the article I needed to write for Game Partisan and my next Top Ten (seriously, no life here.)
How I could afford all this stress
A few days before all this crap I was fortunate enough to be drafted into a side film project with my director. In addition to our own short films, FPS Productions acts as professional videographers for weddings, bar mitzfahs, etc. The day's deal was a 4 hour wedding/reception at a local park, with a 100 buck payroll. Being in my predictably poor state, I called and confirmed my shift, and we shipped down to the Citrus Grove/Park.
The ordeal was rather painless, a short ceremony of two Mexican families, in a canopy in the back of a nice little country club-esque building. The minister spoke in both Spanish and English, which made the traditional speech of do you take this woman... take on a rather interesting undertone, but my duty was to act as video cameraman as my director ran about taking stills of the occasion. Thankfully the family didn't want anything too special, meaning I could set up the camera on a tripod and follow the action while drinking a soda on their tab.
After the vows/rings/applauding crap came my (and everybody's) least part about weddings: group photos. This time, I got to be the person everyone hated, the annoying guy setting everyone up for the shot, organizing them into rows and whatnot. When it was just the bride and groom it was rather fun, modeling them into romantic poses and framing the shot made me feel very professional, which is always a good thing. But keeping two families, both of which contain crumbly old cogers that probably won't last the week, from killing each other long enough for a couple of shots was pushing it.
The reception lasted much longer, with us taking filler shots of the table settings and wedding gifts as the people sat down, later getting crowd shots of people laughing and talking with the couple. Once food was dished out, we buzzed around as shutterbugs are prone to do, snapping away at what looked good on camera, until everyone had seconds and we were contractually obliged to have a break and eat some of the catered food. Not bad, roast with roasted potatoes, with the option of buttered carrots w/ onions and a house salad. Good rolls, too.
Once dinner was over it was the final traditional fare: cutting of the cake, toasts from the best man, and dancing. The DJ (nice guy, wants to collaborate with us in the future...hehe) actually played the Chicken Dance (a wedding staple from what I heard, although I loathe the shit) and no one danced, most likely because they were all unaware of the largely American tradition. Once the Hispanic national music started up, everyone filled the dance floor and we got the last shots we needed before making our exit.
The final product for all of the weddings we do is twofold: an edited video ranging from 3-15 minutes (depending on what they want) and an edited photo slideshow. Thankfully I don't know the first thing about all that post-stuff, so I was just able to take the money and run, as it were.
More on slice-of-life later
I got another story that involves me and my director spending his last day in the city out and around town, but I don't think I have the energy for that right now, so expect that, along with my Mulled Over review of Hamlet 2 coming some time tomorrow.
Random Thoughts
Am I the only one that doesn't give a crap about Mario?
If three mozzarella sticks cost $1.39, how does it make mathematical sense to charge an extra 3 bucks for four more?
If I was President, I would make it illegal for any building that acted as a public living space to not contain air conditioning....
News
-I am now a g1! Ported over a couple of my older blogs from here across to their side of the internets, and plan on sending over at least one a day until I run out. Come visit me over at screwattack.com under the same name....although I'll be posting the same stuff over there as over here.......weee....
-Didn't get the contributing post , oh well. Lost by one vote....bummer....its cool. Supposedly they will do this multiple times, I'll just catch the next one.
-Come visit me on Facebook if your desperate to waste a few hours going through all my apps.
Plugs
- As always, check out my best friend for-longer-than-forever, Bennett the Sage's, pad on Youtube, at his new contributing position at thatguywiththeglasses.com or alongside myself on Gamepartisan
- This is a nifty little site featuring a ton of independently created adventure games ala early Lucasarts. Kinda cool.
There is way too much of this stuff on the typical human body. What's the point of all of it? Why the heck do we need hair anywhere else but on the top of our head? It just makes for very hard places where you have to shave. Not to mention how fucking itchy you get once the hair starts growing back wherever you shave. Its torture!
And what about all the shit we have to do even to the hair on our head? We have to cut it, style it, comb it, and (if you're a girl) blow dry it at least twice a week. Again, what's the point of all of it? Can't we just leave it be and let it grow? Nope. Why? Because society wants us to look all primped up all the time. If we don't make our hair look nice, people don't take us seriously and think we are Neanderthals.
Horse shit: The excriment of a large, solid-hoofed, herbivorous quadruped.
That's what's horse shit....
I'm just kidding. This is a series not unlike Jame's Rolfe's "You know what's BULL SHIT?!" (In all honesty, I WAS gonna call this the same thing. But, I changed my mind in order to keep away from the piles of hate mail I'd probably get.)
OK, I know that there's at least more than one of these already on the blogs, but as some will say there's no official sign up sheet, and even though I hate repetition in TGWTG.com's blogs I still feel like posting this as I feel mine offers a more opinion based list and less an excuse for discussion, and is more for parody than to be taken seriously.
When it comes to big blockbuster Batman movies, we couldn't give a damn about the caped crusader. Generally we assume it will be the same actor as the last movie or it's announced around the same time as the film, and in the end they always play the same character: A cocky millionaire whose voice suddenly and inexplicably becomes deepened when he dons a bat suit. As well as you can play that role, it honestly doesn't matter, because the show is always stolen by the polar opposite: The villains.
Think about it. In every Batman film, the film always revolves around the villain, one in particular. The original Tim Burton Batman? The Joker, played by Jack Nicholson. Batman Forever? The Riddler, played by Jim Carey. Batman and Robin? Mr. Freeze, played by Arnold Schwarzenegger (unfortunately). The Dark Knight? The Joker again, this time played by the late Heath Ledger. The exceptions would be Batman Returns, where the villain hold is more spread out, and Batman Begins, where it actually revolves around Batman, who'da thunk it?
Anime has a lot of negatives within its many genres, subgenres and traditions and some of these are generally not even a fault of its own.
Take for example, dubtitiling. This is when an anime distributor gets lazy and releases a DVD with English and Japanese audio, but only releases subtitles for the English sound track. This means you have to watch the Japanese dub with the subtitles for the English dub, which means there's sections with dialogue and no subtitles, subtitles with no dialogue, American slang that looks out of place and in some series gratuitous swearing that wasn't present in the original. All these combined render the Japanese dub unwatchable for regular watchers of anime, and ultimately ruin the purchase if they didn't like the English dub. Manga entertainment released the entire second season of Naruto with dubtitles, and thus I missed a good chunk of the story.
swearing
