So I'll freely admit, my attempts to create a long-running Blog have hit a few snags. Part of the problem is trying to post about events after they've happened. The rest is just...life.
But, the true sign of character is trying again even after stumbling. So on that note, let's discuss Life of Pi and Sherlock, Jr.
I caught Life of Pi (in THREEEEEEE-DEEEEEE) on Friday, and the most trite thing I could possibly say is "I enjoyed it." For me to "enjoy" a movie, one of five things needs to happen:
1) It needs to affect me on an emotional level. This is where movies that range from Marley and Me to Iron Jawed Angels fall. I leave the movie-watching experience not feeling like the same person anymore.
2) The acting needs to simply blow me away. This is where you'll find films like On The Waterfront or Mystic River. These are the ones where an actor just manages to hit every mark dead on and you can see them swinging for the fences with every line.
3) I develop a complete respect for the craftsmen involved. These movies are a bit trickier. This can be either a producer or director who I think crafted a very well-made movie (Scott Pilgrim vs. The World), or one of the stars has such a gift at something that I can't help but enjoy it (Amy Adams' performance in Enchanted, or Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers in Top Hat).
4) It's so bad, it's hilarious. Yor: The Hunter From The Future resides here, and I suspect the last Twilight movie, from what I've heard, would as well.
5) It's just fun without insulting me. Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang resides here, as does Maverick and Iron Man.
Life of Pi falls in the third camp with some heavy leanings towards the first and second. There are a lot of comparisons to it right now as being the next Avatar (which I also enjoyed), but it is not anywhere near as big a visual feast as Avatar. Of course, I also didn't see it in IMAX, so for all I know, I missed out. But here's what I do know:
Life of Pi is better, visually, than Avatar, and the story works on levels Avatar couldn't even manage with double what James Cameron paid into it. Instead of assaulting the eyes with 3D effects, Ang Lee manages to use 3D to add a layer of depth to the film, making you feel like it naturally belongs, and that it's never being used to assault or surprise the audience in a way that feels cheap. There are scenes involving water and people moving through water that simply astonish and amaze.
I also have to give the film credit for the tiger. The movie does not make anything sentimental about the tiger. This is a wild animal, and not some creature from Disney that we learn does have a human side to it. This is established early on, and how the human in this movie learns to try to control the beast and how the animal learns that it has to adapt to the person being in its space has as much tension to it as wondering just how the main character could survive in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
Overall, I enjoyed this movie more than I did anything else I saw this year...except for Sherlock, Jr.
Sherlock, Jr. is movie starring Buster Keaton filmed in 1924, and this movie falls squarely into third camp as well. It's freely available to watch online through Vimeo, but I was able to catch a viewing on Turner Classic Movies. Nobody, and I say nobody had more dedication to their craft than Buster Keaton, pulling stunts and falls in films that had never been done before, and were probably never done again without stuntmen, gimmicks, or CG. To watch this movie is to see someone who loved movies and would do whatever it took to make them memorable.
For instance, there's a scene in the film where our main character leaps into a movie screen and moves around, even while the movie scenes around him change. Now, keeping in mind that this isn't done as a close-up of the screen, but is seen from the theater's point of view, it's important to note that when the scene changes (say from the front door of a building to the edge of a cliff or a jungle scene with lions), that Buster Keaton had to remain absolutely motionless while the sets were changed, and fancy equipment was brought in to make sure everything remained perfectly level. Then, when filming began, you got as near a perfect cut as you could with the actor. Other visual gags (one involving a pool table that I still cannot figure out) seem almost on par with the CG work done today, and there are times I had to remind myself "Wait...they didn't have computers back then...how the hell did they do that?" I honestly cannot remember the time before that when a movie made me feel so alive and full of laughter and happiness to watch, and the pratfalls and jokes that happen then still feel fresh to the actors involved.
I'll also tell this small story that's been circulated for years: There's a scene in the movie where Buster Keaton runs atop a train that's pulling out of a station, and he manages to grab hold of one of the large pipes that fills the steam engine with water. It slowly and gracefully starts to lower him to the ground, when a huge burst of water suddenly pours out and slams him into the ground. He gets up, there's one more pratfall sight gag, and he runs off.
Now, as the story goes, he complained for a day of having a severely bad headache, but soon went back to work, falling and jumping and making great films. Ten years later, at a routine exam, his doctor asked him when he broke his neck. Buster Keaton had no memory of such an event, but his doctor showed him on an x-ray where he had scar tissue surrounding where there had been a neck fracture. They realized it must've happened when he was slammed into the ground by a jet of water.
Somehow I don't expect many Hollywood stars would be so able to get back to work after such an injury. And it's that dedication to the craft that elevates this film up to probably one of the best I've ever seen.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Like the last one, this post won't make me a lot of friends either, but here goes: let's talk about casinos.
Now, I don't have a many pictures for this one. The times I spent on tribal land, I saw a lot of things that made me ask a lot of tough questions. However, taking pictures not only seemed like poor taste, but it's also a practice the tribe frowns on. As my father explained, the tribe doesn't really appreciate their experiences being exploited for the media. Since this is technically a blog, I figured I'd respect that.
Now, a little bit of history of the area. The tribal lands I saw the most of belonged to the Salt River tribe, located just across an underpass from Phoenix. It really is as simple as simply making a left turn and boom, you're on a land controlled by its own government, with its own laws and justice system. (Legal alert: when the speed limit on a tribal land road says "25 mph" you drive 25 mph)
Something important to note is that the members of the tribe don't own any of the land themselves, the tribe owns it. The Salt River tribe (and many others) believe that a person cannot "own" the land they are on, you're simply "using" it. Therefore, plots of land are simply being "used" by families, but they cannot simply do what they want with the land because they are not the "owner" of said plot.
Indirect thought: I commented to someone recently that, when you look at things happening in the universe and see the scope of events, disasters, and wondrous creations, it becomes harder to get your brain back into being able to "appreciate" smaller versions of things happening here. One such thing was when I learned about the tribe's perspective on land "ownership" was right after my evening at the observatory. I was still coming down from seeing entire other galaxies, and hearing that a group of people don't feel it's possible to "own" land really seemed to connect with that same "grander" scale of thinking. Anyway, back on topic.
There is a lot of tribal land still undeveloped. The phrase "dirt poor" wasn't just a turn of phrase for them. Families lived in single room shacks or trailers, many of which were in total disrepair when I saw them (to be honest they didn't look like much to begin with). There was no irrigation, very little plumbing. The tribe couldn't grow anything besides dust and cactus, and they relied on the city for their resources. Poverty was rampant, and with poverty came having to rely on cheaper foods, which caused health issues to skyrocket.
Now, the tribe has two casinos. Each member on the tribe who lives on tribal land now gets a share of the casino's profits. I don't know how much that is, but the Puyallup tribe in Washington State gets about 25 to 30 thousand per member, and they control one of the most important shipping ports in the west coast. Any member of the tribe who wants a job at the casino gets one (after all, each one has a stake in it, so why not?). And where has that money gone?
Right next to barren, dust-layered lots, there are now acres of fields of corn. Gardens are everywhere, thanks to the latest in irrigation being used to in water. Trailers and shacks are being hauled off of the land and demolished, replaced with simple houses families can raise their children in. I saw a new house being built next to an old trailer a family had lived in with the ceiling almost completely collapsed. It looked like someone dropped a car on it, or something from space landed smack in the center of the building. Streets are actually paved.
The people of the Salt River tribe are healthier (they still have a ways to go, as do we all, since junk food and fatty food is still so widely available), and they're also more active in the community around them. They're turning what was once a wasteland into a place people can actually survive on.
Now, here's where I get political. If you want to skip this, scroll down past the picture of the casino I visited for a few more rambling thoughts.
In 1980 the Maine Indian Claims Settlement Act was put in place, paying the tribes $81.5 million dollars in exchange for the tribes giving up all claims to land in Maine (their original suit against the state called for the return of what would've been 60% of Maine to be handed over to them). One provision was that all tribes are subject to Maine law, and that any future federal legislation regarding Indian tribes had to include special language specifically discussing the Maine tribes, or Maine would refuse to acknowledge it.
The Indian Gaming Regulatory Act was passed in 1988, and it did not have any special language in it to include the Maine tribes, so Maine's "no gambling" laws trumped the federal law stating that governments are required to negotiate with tribes to allow casinos to be built. As far as I'm aware, Maine is the only state to limit its tribes this way.
There have been many appeals, all of them shot down by the federal courts, and so this is why Maine has the only tribes that are required to let people vote whether or not they can have the same opportunities as every other Indian tribe in the United States. Hoo-ray.
But that's a longer topic for another day. Here's what I wanted to discuss: the arguments. The biggest argument I heard in 2003 and again in 2007 was that allowing a casino would "increase crime" in areas. Commercials and ads promoting fear made it sound like every street corner would become a drug dealer's heaven, that robberies, rapes, and murder would run rampant, and the entire state would turn into New York, but "Escape From New York" New York.
Here's a fun fact: the Arizona tribal casinos and the surrounding area have ridiculously low crime. Many tribes outlaw drinking at all on their lands, meaning you don't even get drunk drivers heading home from losing their money and deciding to plow their cars into oncoming traffic. Why? Because it's tribal land. You grab someone's purse? Deputy Barney Fife can't come over and arrest you, you're getting taken down by the tribe's own personal police force. And the tribes don't think crime is very funny. You sell drugs or kill someone? Congratulations, you just committed a federal crime, meaning the DEA or FBI are on your ass, and they also don't have much of a sense of humor when it comes to crime. I also asked around to see how rampant crime was in Phoenix since the casinos went up. There are a lot of businesses on the other side of that overpass I mentioned before, and it didn't seem like crime spiked dramatically since the casino's construction.
Now, here's my other issue with Maine, and it can be summed up with a motto I often hear repeated: "The way life should be." Maine is very...quaint. I really get the impression that Maine wants everyone else in the nation to picture them as the first twenty seconds of "Murder, She Wrote." Angela Lansbury rides her bike down a quaint city street, walks with her fishing pole across a dock, runs in a field, waves to a passing boat...truly, a relaxing vacation spot for anybody willing to visit. Let me point out that opening was first played in 1984.
Now, I hear complaining about paper mills shutting down when more and more businesses strive to become "paper free" and more people read their news online than from newspapers. Attempts to bring in new power sources are spit upon because of their affect on nature, or are too noisy, or, and my personal favorite argument, "are ugly." I know several people who have told me, regarding Somali refugess who live here, that they understand why they had to flee their homeland, but a) "why don't they learn our language if they're going to live here?" b) "Why can't they understand that we don't do things their way?" or c) "Why are they so different?" NIMBY runs rampant, and, as a state, Maine seems determined to refuse to admit that it's becoming somewhat antiquated.
(Disclaimer: I'm not saying anybody's opinion is wrong, I'm simply stating things I observe and might, perhaps, strongly disagree with. People who state or believe the above things are not bad people, and having differing opinions is what fuels debate, advancement, and new ideas, and I encourage everybody to research topics and come to their own conclusions on matters.)
I hope Maine's aware that a state can still be a gorgeous nature preserve and have major industry and cities. Washington state has the only full rain forest in the continental US, and Seattle's just a short drive away. I could easily see Portland becoming another San Francisco or Seattle, finding a balance of "classic" tastes mixed with modern technology and business. You can't have an entire state of Cabot Cove, because, much like "Murder, She Wrote," the steadily-aging population will just keep dying off, and you won't see anybody new coming in to take their place as tourists- I mean, "guest stars."
Oh, and as for that "ugly" argument, the same one was used against building a casino here in Maine. Let me show you all the casino I stopped at in Arizona:
That's it. First floor is casino, the rest of the floors are hotel rooms. The casino itself wasn't as garish as the ones you see in movies from Hollywood either. They had a large open front area that let in some sunlight. It was noisy, but not so you couldn't hear yourself think. TVs located in different areas allowed people to keep track of what time it was (CNN, ESPN, and local news stations were playing when I was there). Maine's a big state, I don't think a building that size would suddenly appear as horrible as a pimple on a teenage girl's nose during prom.
Anyway, that's my quasi-political rant. This has been something weighing on my mind since the trip, and I know it's jumbled, not very clear, and I don't quote my references (a history of Maine's tribal disputes with the state government can be found at http://mainelaw.maine.edu/academics/maine-law-review/pdf/vol50_1/vol50_me_l_rev_143.pdf), but for an amateur blog post? I think it works.
Coming up next: The time a monkey jumped on my head.
Don't let the cuteness fool you.
Now, I don't have a many pictures for this one. The times I spent on tribal land, I saw a lot of things that made me ask a lot of tough questions. However, taking pictures not only seemed like poor taste, but it's also a practice the tribe frowns on. As my father explained, the tribe doesn't really appreciate their experiences being exploited for the media. Since this is technically a blog, I figured I'd respect that.
Now, a little bit of history of the area. The tribal lands I saw the most of belonged to the Salt River tribe, located just across an underpass from Phoenix. It really is as simple as simply making a left turn and boom, you're on a land controlled by its own government, with its own laws and justice system. (Legal alert: when the speed limit on a tribal land road says "25 mph" you drive 25 mph)
Something important to note is that the members of the tribe don't own any of the land themselves, the tribe owns it. The Salt River tribe (and many others) believe that a person cannot "own" the land they are on, you're simply "using" it. Therefore, plots of land are simply being "used" by families, but they cannot simply do what they want with the land because they are not the "owner" of said plot.
Indirect thought: I commented to someone recently that, when you look at things happening in the universe and see the scope of events, disasters, and wondrous creations, it becomes harder to get your brain back into being able to "appreciate" smaller versions of things happening here. One such thing was when I learned about the tribe's perspective on land "ownership" was right after my evening at the observatory. I was still coming down from seeing entire other galaxies, and hearing that a group of people don't feel it's possible to "own" land really seemed to connect with that same "grander" scale of thinking. Anyway, back on topic.
There is a lot of tribal land still undeveloped. The phrase "dirt poor" wasn't just a turn of phrase for them. Families lived in single room shacks or trailers, many of which were in total disrepair when I saw them (to be honest they didn't look like much to begin with). There was no irrigation, very little plumbing. The tribe couldn't grow anything besides dust and cactus, and they relied on the city for their resources. Poverty was rampant, and with poverty came having to rely on cheaper foods, which caused health issues to skyrocket.
Now, the tribe has two casinos. Each member on the tribe who lives on tribal land now gets a share of the casino's profits. I don't know how much that is, but the Puyallup tribe in Washington State gets about 25 to 30 thousand per member, and they control one of the most important shipping ports in the west coast. Any member of the tribe who wants a job at the casino gets one (after all, each one has a stake in it, so why not?). And where has that money gone?
Right next to barren, dust-layered lots, there are now acres of fields of corn. Gardens are everywhere, thanks to the latest in irrigation being used to in water. Trailers and shacks are being hauled off of the land and demolished, replaced with simple houses families can raise their children in. I saw a new house being built next to an old trailer a family had lived in with the ceiling almost completely collapsed. It looked like someone dropped a car on it, or something from space landed smack in the center of the building. Streets are actually paved.
The people of the Salt River tribe are healthier (they still have a ways to go, as do we all, since junk food and fatty food is still so widely available), and they're also more active in the community around them. They're turning what was once a wasteland into a place people can actually survive on.
Now, here's where I get political. If you want to skip this, scroll down past the picture of the casino I visited for a few more rambling thoughts.
In 1980 the Maine Indian Claims Settlement Act was put in place, paying the tribes $81.5 million dollars in exchange for the tribes giving up all claims to land in Maine (their original suit against the state called for the return of what would've been 60% of Maine to be handed over to them). One provision was that all tribes are subject to Maine law, and that any future federal legislation regarding Indian tribes had to include special language specifically discussing the Maine tribes, or Maine would refuse to acknowledge it.
The Indian Gaming Regulatory Act was passed in 1988, and it did not have any special language in it to include the Maine tribes, so Maine's "no gambling" laws trumped the federal law stating that governments are required to negotiate with tribes to allow casinos to be built. As far as I'm aware, Maine is the only state to limit its tribes this way.
There have been many appeals, all of them shot down by the federal courts, and so this is why Maine has the only tribes that are required to let people vote whether or not they can have the same opportunities as every other Indian tribe in the United States. Hoo-ray.
But that's a longer topic for another day. Here's what I wanted to discuss: the arguments. The biggest argument I heard in 2003 and again in 2007 was that allowing a casino would "increase crime" in areas. Commercials and ads promoting fear made it sound like every street corner would become a drug dealer's heaven, that robberies, rapes, and murder would run rampant, and the entire state would turn into New York, but "Escape From New York" New York.
Here's a fun fact: the Arizona tribal casinos and the surrounding area have ridiculously low crime. Many tribes outlaw drinking at all on their lands, meaning you don't even get drunk drivers heading home from losing their money and deciding to plow their cars into oncoming traffic. Why? Because it's tribal land. You grab someone's purse? Deputy Barney Fife can't come over and arrest you, you're getting taken down by the tribe's own personal police force. And the tribes don't think crime is very funny. You sell drugs or kill someone? Congratulations, you just committed a federal crime, meaning the DEA or FBI are on your ass, and they also don't have much of a sense of humor when it comes to crime. I also asked around to see how rampant crime was in Phoenix since the casinos went up. There are a lot of businesses on the other side of that overpass I mentioned before, and it didn't seem like crime spiked dramatically since the casino's construction.
Now, here's my other issue with Maine, and it can be summed up with a motto I often hear repeated: "The way life should be." Maine is very...quaint. I really get the impression that Maine wants everyone else in the nation to picture them as the first twenty seconds of "Murder, She Wrote." Angela Lansbury rides her bike down a quaint city street, walks with her fishing pole across a dock, runs in a field, waves to a passing boat...truly, a relaxing vacation spot for anybody willing to visit. Let me point out that opening was first played in 1984.
Now, I hear complaining about paper mills shutting down when more and more businesses strive to become "paper free" and more people read their news online than from newspapers. Attempts to bring in new power sources are spit upon because of their affect on nature, or are too noisy, or, and my personal favorite argument, "are ugly." I know several people who have told me, regarding Somali refugess who live here, that they understand why they had to flee their homeland, but a) "why don't they learn our language if they're going to live here?" b) "Why can't they understand that we don't do things their way?" or c) "Why are they so different?" NIMBY runs rampant, and, as a state, Maine seems determined to refuse to admit that it's becoming somewhat antiquated.
(Disclaimer: I'm not saying anybody's opinion is wrong, I'm simply stating things I observe and might, perhaps, strongly disagree with. People who state or believe the above things are not bad people, and having differing opinions is what fuels debate, advancement, and new ideas, and I encourage everybody to research topics and come to their own conclusions on matters.)
I hope Maine's aware that a state can still be a gorgeous nature preserve and have major industry and cities. Washington state has the only full rain forest in the continental US, and Seattle's just a short drive away. I could easily see Portland becoming another San Francisco or Seattle, finding a balance of "classic" tastes mixed with modern technology and business. You can't have an entire state of Cabot Cove, because, much like "Murder, She Wrote," the steadily-aging population will just keep dying off, and you won't see anybody new coming in to take their place as tourists- I mean, "guest stars."
Oh, and as for that "ugly" argument, the same one was used against building a casino here in Maine. Let me show you all the casino I stopped at in Arizona:
That's it. First floor is casino, the rest of the floors are hotel rooms. The casino itself wasn't as garish as the ones you see in movies from Hollywood either. They had a large open front area that let in some sunlight. It was noisy, but not so you couldn't hear yourself think. TVs located in different areas allowed people to keep track of what time it was (CNN, ESPN, and local news stations were playing when I was there). Maine's a big state, I don't think a building that size would suddenly appear as horrible as a pimple on a teenage girl's nose during prom.
Anyway, that's my quasi-political rant. This has been something weighing on my mind since the trip, and I know it's jumbled, not very clear, and I don't quote my references (a history of Maine's tribal disputes with the state government can be found at http://mainelaw.maine.edu/academics/maine-law-review/pdf/vol50_1/vol50_me_l_rev_143.pdf), but for an amateur blog post? I think it works.
Coming up next: The time a monkey jumped on my head.
Don't let the cuteness fool you.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Excuse me for a moment while I blow off some dust here.
*puff* *cough* *gack*
Okay, I think we're good.
I had promised a few of these when I went on my most recent trip to Arizona, and hey, if anything's going to get me excited about writing again, it'll be writing. So let's get a few things out of the way first.
1) Arizona is hot.
This falls under "well, no kidding, next you'll be telling me the ocean's wet." But perhaps it's just because I've lived in many places, but the heat is less unbearable there than it is in Maine, which doesn't come anywhere near those temperatures. And why? Humidity. When I lived in Virginia, every house had central air conditioning. Temperatures rarely went past 100, but, well, let's look at the weather for this upcoming Friday.
And now here's the weather for Phoenix the same day.
Okay, if I had to pick one to be in, you know where I'd go? I'd go to Phoenix. Why? Because there's very little humidity. Humidity assaults people. It clings to everything and absorbs ambient heat so you can never cool down. It soaks your clothes the moment you step outside, it seeps into your house, and it feels like all it wants to do is kill you. If the weather was a horror movie, humidity would be zombies. Always present and you can fight for a while, but eventually you have to face it. And you'll lose.
Now, I'll be honest, 112 is really goddamn hot. When I was in Phoenix, the hottest it got was 107, but before you feel sorry for me, know this: I walked around outside almost every day for most of the day. I didn't get a sunburn from extreme sun exposure (hell, I barely tanned at all, I'm just "less white"). I was absolutely fine every evening. The thing about Phoenix is they know it's going to be hot. They aren't surprised by it any more than people in Florida should be surprised that huge storms come through and knock over all their stuff. They have shaded sidewalks with awnings, they have trees strategically planted to shade street corners, and the most awesome part? Check this out.
You see that mist? Many stores in the Phoenix area run pipes along the edges of their awnings and overhangs that spray a mist down. This cools you off by not only being cool water, but it also drops the temperature a few degrees in the immediate area. Just don't go running through it like a child in a sprinkler, or you'll look like a total tourist.
Fact #2: Phoenix is in a desert.
Again, "no kidding" but, here's something you might not know. 1) The definition for a desert depends on how much rainfall it gets, not how much plant life it has. 2) Arizona has gotten really, really good at irrigation. Someone I know commented during their trip to Arizona that nothing was alive and it was brown everywhere. Well, I'll admit, there is a lot of brown, but you work with the stone and dirt you've got, right? But does this look like barren land to you?
Does that look barren to you?
...okay, the last one's a bit barren in the front, but in the back it's not! Just...look behind the dust devil that was blowing right beside the road. ...right. Anyway.
Maybe it's just because the other person I know went in winter, but every time I looked around, there was greenery. Plants, trees, cactus, grass, it was all around me thanks to Arizona having really hardy trees and doing a damn good job irrigating it. In fact, right outside the city where the Salt River tribe lives, they have crops. Honest to god crops. I saw corn growing in fields out there (but that's another blog post).
Fact #3: There's a lot of southern culture in Arizona.
Okay, now I'm just getting stupid with these, so this is going to be my last one. Something I know about the northeast is that if you've seen one city, you've seen most of the cities. If someone asked me to tell the difference between Kennebunkport and Freeport, my answer would be "one has LL Bean." Falmouth and Windham? "One's closer to the ocean, one's closer to a lake?" Gorham and Hudson? "Gorham has paved roads." But once you get past the quaintness, it's all rather...bland.
Man, this post isn't going to make me any friends, is it?
Here, look at some of these pictures I took.
This is the hill alongside the highway that leads to the wall blocking sound from the residential areas. That pattern on the ground is all made out of small rocks arranged just so in this really elaborately done style. Next up:
The walls of overpasses and on-ramps are decorated with all sorts of designs. Lizards, cactuses, figures from Native American myth, designs, patterns, pictures telling short stories, all these creations that add character to a town. And this is just the roads. Buildings, parks, sidewalks, all parts of the city embraced the variety of cultures and history of the region and display them prominently. The area is trying to tell you its story, and each road you take and each time you look around, you see more of it. They even managed to balance this delicate level of classic design with modern technology. Their new mass transit system, the light rail, maneuvers down roads passing statues, signs, and memorials of what used to be.
Overall, Phoenix is, in my opinion at least, a gorgeous city, one rife with culture and flavor (not just in the food, but I'll get to that later as well). I'd highly recommend anybody visit it, and not do it during the winter. From what I saw, Spring is the slow tourist season there, so it's a good time to visit (my father told me that through a time-share company he deals with, I could get a week's stay in a two-bedroom condo with a kitchen for $180. Per WEEK.)
Hell, there's enough stuff to do there, I wouldn't mind going back. Anybody want to split a condo?
*puff* *cough* *gack*
Okay, I think we're good.
I had promised a few of these when I went on my most recent trip to Arizona, and hey, if anything's going to get me excited about writing again, it'll be writing. So let's get a few things out of the way first.
1) Arizona is hot.
This falls under "well, no kidding, next you'll be telling me the ocean's wet." But perhaps it's just because I've lived in many places, but the heat is less unbearable there than it is in Maine, which doesn't come anywhere near those temperatures. And why? Humidity. When I lived in Virginia, every house had central air conditioning. Temperatures rarely went past 100, but, well, let's look at the weather for this upcoming Friday.
Okay, if I had to pick one to be in, you know where I'd go? I'd go to Phoenix. Why? Because there's very little humidity. Humidity assaults people. It clings to everything and absorbs ambient heat so you can never cool down. It soaks your clothes the moment you step outside, it seeps into your house, and it feels like all it wants to do is kill you. If the weather was a horror movie, humidity would be zombies. Always present and you can fight for a while, but eventually you have to face it. And you'll lose.
Now, I'll be honest, 112 is really goddamn hot. When I was in Phoenix, the hottest it got was 107, but before you feel sorry for me, know this: I walked around outside almost every day for most of the day. I didn't get a sunburn from extreme sun exposure (hell, I barely tanned at all, I'm just "less white"). I was absolutely fine every evening. The thing about Phoenix is they know it's going to be hot. They aren't surprised by it any more than people in Florida should be surprised that huge storms come through and knock over all their stuff. They have shaded sidewalks with awnings, they have trees strategically planted to shade street corners, and the most awesome part? Check this out.
You see that mist? Many stores in the Phoenix area run pipes along the edges of their awnings and overhangs that spray a mist down. This cools you off by not only being cool water, but it also drops the temperature a few degrees in the immediate area. Just don't go running through it like a child in a sprinkler, or you'll look like a total tourist.
Fact #2: Phoenix is in a desert.
Again, "no kidding" but, here's something you might not know. 1) The definition for a desert depends on how much rainfall it gets, not how much plant life it has. 2) Arizona has gotten really, really good at irrigation. Someone I know commented during their trip to Arizona that nothing was alive and it was brown everywhere. Well, I'll admit, there is a lot of brown, but you work with the stone and dirt you've got, right? But does this look like barren land to you?
Does that look barren to you?
...okay, the last one's a bit barren in the front, but in the back it's not! Just...look behind the dust devil that was blowing right beside the road. ...right. Anyway.
Maybe it's just because the other person I know went in winter, but every time I looked around, there was greenery. Plants, trees, cactus, grass, it was all around me thanks to Arizona having really hardy trees and doing a damn good job irrigating it. In fact, right outside the city where the Salt River tribe lives, they have crops. Honest to god crops. I saw corn growing in fields out there (but that's another blog post).
Fact #3: There's a lot of southern culture in Arizona.
Okay, now I'm just getting stupid with these, so this is going to be my last one. Something I know about the northeast is that if you've seen one city, you've seen most of the cities. If someone asked me to tell the difference between Kennebunkport and Freeport, my answer would be "one has LL Bean." Falmouth and Windham? "One's closer to the ocean, one's closer to a lake?" Gorham and Hudson? "Gorham has paved roads." But once you get past the quaintness, it's all rather...bland.
Man, this post isn't going to make me any friends, is it?
Here, look at some of these pictures I took.
This is the hill alongside the highway that leads to the wall blocking sound from the residential areas. That pattern on the ground is all made out of small rocks arranged just so in this really elaborately done style. Next up:
The walls of overpasses and on-ramps are decorated with all sorts of designs. Lizards, cactuses, figures from Native American myth, designs, patterns, pictures telling short stories, all these creations that add character to a town. And this is just the roads. Buildings, parks, sidewalks, all parts of the city embraced the variety of cultures and history of the region and display them prominently. The area is trying to tell you its story, and each road you take and each time you look around, you see more of it. They even managed to balance this delicate level of classic design with modern technology. Their new mass transit system, the light rail, maneuvers down roads passing statues, signs, and memorials of what used to be.
Overall, Phoenix is, in my opinion at least, a gorgeous city, one rife with culture and flavor (not just in the food, but I'll get to that later as well). I'd highly recommend anybody visit it, and not do it during the winter. From what I saw, Spring is the slow tourist season there, so it's a good time to visit (my father told me that through a time-share company he deals with, I could get a week's stay in a two-bedroom condo with a kitchen for $180. Per WEEK.)
Hell, there's enough stuff to do there, I wouldn't mind going back. Anybody want to split a condo?
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
"I better get extra credit for this..."
Last time, I happened to mention that the tv program "Big Bad Beetleborgs" wasn't as bad as "Tattooed Teenage Alien Fighters From Beverly Hills." And to be fair, it wasn't. It also wasn't as bad as "Mystic Knights of Tir Na Nog," "VR Troopers," or "Superhuman Samurai Syber-Squad" (whose poor spelling still makes my teeth itch). But then, they were all attempts to cash in on the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, and everybody who watched them knew it.
I didn't watch much of "Big Bad Beetleborgs" when it came out in 1996, but there are a few things I remember distinctively about it. One was that the kids worked in a comic book shop that sold merchandise of the Beetleborgs. I always found this somewhat puzzling. Who made the merchandise, and why did they never show up to squash the rumors that their characters were destroying real monsters? It would be like finding Clark Kent working in a shop that only sold DC comics, and then you hear on the radio that Superman not only is real, but he just punched an alien in the face. You aren't sure if you should bring up the fourth wall issues involved or if you should just smile and hope you can get out of there before anything goes wrong.
I also remember this guy:
I'm not going to make any Elvis, Bob Hope, or Jay Leno jokes because I know they've all already been done before, but I will point out that it takes a brave ghost to wear an outfit that not even a Bedazzler can make into a bigger eyesore.
Flabber here embodies for me what might be either be the greatest or laziest writing I've ever seen in a children's series. Allow me to explain.
Halfway through the first season, the show decided to perform a casting switcheroo. Shannon Chandler, who played Jo, was leaving the show and being replaced by Brittany Konarzewski. Now, normally when a character is replaced, they move out of town and a new character arrives at just the right moment to fill their shoes. But the show didn't want to replace Jo, so they kept the character and simply replaced the actress. How'd that work out?
Well, we went from:
To:
...yeah, they needed to think of something quickly.
So here's where the writing comes into play. The show simply portrayed that this was a magical transformation caused by one of the comic relief characters casting a spell. The only problem with this was that any logical person in a world with monsters, ghosts, and robots would undoubtedly find it suspicious that their daughter dramatically changed appearance.
Flabber, therefore, came up with a plan. He cast a new spell, so that everybody would see Jo as her old self...unless, of course, they happened to be in the room when the new spell was cast, then they'd be immune and see her as she (now) truly was. Oh, and the audience? Well, technically everybody watching the show did "see" the spell get cast so we get to see the new actress as well! Isn't that convenient? Everybody wins!
But anyway, I'm not here to discuss the Beetleborgs. I'm here about teenagers with tattoos who fight aliens. ...or fighters who battle tattooed teenage aliens, the wording of the title has always been rather awkward.
This show was one of the first (that I remember seeing, anyway) to attempt to cash in on the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers craze. For a while during the late 90s, it seemed that anybody with a ninja outfit and some bad rubber monster costumes and a bucket of paint could produce one of these programs. The sets were ridiculous, the storyline was nonexistent, the martial arts might have been passable if it weren't for the sudden camera leaps...in short, it was bad.
Not only was it bad, though, but it was also hilarious.
The concept of the show was simple. An alien being hides on Earth and picks a group of teenagers to defend the planet from an evil intergalactic threat. The primary villain routinely sends monsters down to the planet to wreak havoc, and the teenagers respond by transforming into their heroic alter egos/stunt doubles and fighting the monster. However, the monster gets a quick upgrade and the heroes have to either push themselves past their individual limit or work together to summon the Ultimate Combat Machine Ever Made to finally take the monster out.
Now, I realize that's the plotline of every one of these types of shows, but TTAFFBH did a few things differently that, while they flat out didn't work, I appreciated the effort.
For one thing, the kids didn't hang out at a juice bar. These kids were hip and knew that Friends was the Next Big Thing for adults, so they hung out at a coffee bar. Plus, instead of getting their powers from dinosaur robots, they got their namesake and power source from various constellations in the night sky! Tell me THAT doesn't scream original product!
All right, there was really only two things I could think of that made this show different. One was that the bad monsters might temporarily die, but odds were pretty good you'd see them again in a later episode, as the villain never believed in letting a bad minion not get a second chance. Eventually he'd learn to try sending more than one monster at a time, but by then most of their weaknesses were figured out and it just felt kind of sad.
The other was one of the moments during the first episode, after the mismatched group of teenagers have acquired their powers and are wondering what comes next. One wonders if they'd hang out together at school. The general reaction?
"Pfft. Please. Me, hang out with people like you guys?"
That's right! They might be a squad of heroes who are the planet's last hope, but she's head cheerleader and he's a math geek! He's a surprisingly effeminate-for-the-90s prep boy and she's a rebel! Did you expect them to be friends? What did you want from a show like this, a moral lesson? Go back to Sesame Street if you want help making friends, we've got monsters to kill!
Coming up next, we'll take a look at the main characters, the first episode, the main villain, and the glory that is "Ninjabot, the Samurai Robot."
I didn't watch much of "Big Bad Beetleborgs" when it came out in 1996, but there are a few things I remember distinctively about it. One was that the kids worked in a comic book shop that sold merchandise of the Beetleborgs. I always found this somewhat puzzling. Who made the merchandise, and why did they never show up to squash the rumors that their characters were destroying real monsters? It would be like finding Clark Kent working in a shop that only sold DC comics, and then you hear on the radio that Superman not only is real, but he just punched an alien in the face. You aren't sure if you should bring up the fourth wall issues involved or if you should just smile and hope you can get out of there before anything goes wrong.
I also remember this guy:
I'm not going to make any Elvis, Bob Hope, or Jay Leno jokes because I know they've all already been done before, but I will point out that it takes a brave ghost to wear an outfit that not even a Bedazzler can make into a bigger eyesore.
Flabber here embodies for me what might be either be the greatest or laziest writing I've ever seen in a children's series. Allow me to explain.
Halfway through the first season, the show decided to perform a casting switcheroo. Shannon Chandler, who played Jo, was leaving the show and being replaced by Brittany Konarzewski. Now, normally when a character is replaced, they move out of town and a new character arrives at just the right moment to fill their shoes. But the show didn't want to replace Jo, so they kept the character and simply replaced the actress. How'd that work out?
Well, we went from:
To:
...yeah, they needed to think of something quickly.
So here's where the writing comes into play. The show simply portrayed that this was a magical transformation caused by one of the comic relief characters casting a spell. The only problem with this was that any logical person in a world with monsters, ghosts, and robots would undoubtedly find it suspicious that their daughter dramatically changed appearance.
Flabber, therefore, came up with a plan. He cast a new spell, so that everybody would see Jo as her old self...unless, of course, they happened to be in the room when the new spell was cast, then they'd be immune and see her as she (now) truly was. Oh, and the audience? Well, technically everybody watching the show did "see" the spell get cast so we get to see the new actress as well! Isn't that convenient? Everybody wins!
But anyway, I'm not here to discuss the Beetleborgs. I'm here about teenagers with tattoos who fight aliens. ...or fighters who battle tattooed teenage aliens, the wording of the title has always been rather awkward.
This show was one of the first (that I remember seeing, anyway) to attempt to cash in on the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers craze. For a while during the late 90s, it seemed that anybody with a ninja outfit and some bad rubber monster costumes and a bucket of paint could produce one of these programs. The sets were ridiculous, the storyline was nonexistent, the martial arts might have been passable if it weren't for the sudden camera leaps...in short, it was bad.
Not only was it bad, though, but it was also hilarious.
The concept of the show was simple. An alien being hides on Earth and picks a group of teenagers to defend the planet from an evil intergalactic threat. The primary villain routinely sends monsters down to the planet to wreak havoc, and the teenagers respond by transforming into their heroic alter egos/stunt doubles and fighting the monster. However, the monster gets a quick upgrade and the heroes have to either push themselves past their individual limit or work together to summon the Ultimate Combat Machine Ever Made to finally take the monster out.
Now, I realize that's the plotline of every one of these types of shows, but TTAFFBH did a few things differently that, while they flat out didn't work, I appreciated the effort.
For one thing, the kids didn't hang out at a juice bar. These kids were hip and knew that Friends was the Next Big Thing for adults, so they hung out at a coffee bar. Plus, instead of getting their powers from dinosaur robots, they got their namesake and power source from various constellations in the night sky! Tell me THAT doesn't scream original product!
All right, there was really only two things I could think of that made this show different. One was that the bad monsters might temporarily die, but odds were pretty good you'd see them again in a later episode, as the villain never believed in letting a bad minion not get a second chance. Eventually he'd learn to try sending more than one monster at a time, but by then most of their weaknesses were figured out and it just felt kind of sad.
The other was one of the moments during the first episode, after the mismatched group of teenagers have acquired their powers and are wondering what comes next. One wonders if they'd hang out together at school. The general reaction?
"Pfft. Please. Me, hang out with people like you guys?"
That's right! They might be a squad of heroes who are the planet's last hope, but she's head cheerleader and he's a math geek! He's a surprisingly effeminate-for-the-90s prep boy and she's a rebel! Did you expect them to be friends? What did you want from a show like this, a moral lesson? Go back to Sesame Street if you want help making friends, we've got monsters to kill!
Coming up next, we'll take a look at the main characters, the first episode, the main villain, and the glory that is "Ninjabot, the Samurai Robot."
Friday, July 29, 2011
Oh snap!
It's funny. Through most of my life, I've been a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to the projects I care about. There's actually a story my mother used to tell about how I would write reports for school when I was in elementary school.
Now keep in mind these were the days before computers and word processors, so I had to actually type them. On a typewriter. And I hated the "backspace/whiteout" key. So if I ever made a single mistake, I'd pull the page out, crinkle it up, and start all over again with the page I was working on.
Now, I actually enjoy writing. I enjoy doing a blog. I had some hopes that this might've gone to something bigger, and I have some big ideas to do with it, but until that day comes I may as well keep posting stuff.
And so, today, I'm posting. Not a big project, not some fancy essay I prepared, I'm just going to pick something at random, post a picture, perhaps, and write.
Let's see what I have in my "My Pictures" folder. Maybe I'll find a few ideas I can expand upon in future writings.
Ah, Jessica Cannon, the spunky, sassy sidekick from the game SiN: Episode 1. Granted, the series is actually called SiN: Episodes, but since the first one was the only one to ever come out. This character was voiced by the wonderful Jen Tayor, who has voiced a lot of other great characters.
However, I think the fact that there's a sound clip for when you crouch down behind this character that says "Stop checking out my ass, Blade (your character)" that makes it all the more hilarious when you realize she's also the voice for Princess Peach for Nintendo.
Up next?
...well, the show wasn't as bad as Tattooed Teenage Alien Fighters From Beverly Hills.
...which I'll probably want to do a retrospective about at some point. God.
Next?
...all I know is that apparently giant monkeys and sea monsters attack a boat. And the monkeys are all dressed like sailors.
I must find a copy of this comic.
Right after I locate a copy of:
Because, that's why.
Now keep in mind these were the days before computers and word processors, so I had to actually type them. On a typewriter. And I hated the "backspace/whiteout" key. So if I ever made a single mistake, I'd pull the page out, crinkle it up, and start all over again with the page I was working on.
Now, I actually enjoy writing. I enjoy doing a blog. I had some hopes that this might've gone to something bigger, and I have some big ideas to do with it, but until that day comes I may as well keep posting stuff.
And so, today, I'm posting. Not a big project, not some fancy essay I prepared, I'm just going to pick something at random, post a picture, perhaps, and write.
Let's see what I have in my "My Pictures" folder. Maybe I'll find a few ideas I can expand upon in future writings.
Ah, Jessica Cannon, the spunky, sassy sidekick from the game SiN: Episode 1. Granted, the series is actually called SiN: Episodes, but since the first one was the only one to ever come out. This character was voiced by the wonderful Jen Tayor, who has voiced a lot of other great characters.
However, I think the fact that there's a sound clip for when you crouch down behind this character that says "Stop checking out my ass, Blade (your character)" that makes it all the more hilarious when you realize she's also the voice for Princess Peach for Nintendo.
Up next?
...well, the show wasn't as bad as Tattooed Teenage Alien Fighters From Beverly Hills.
...which I'll probably want to do a retrospective about at some point. God.
Next?
...all I know is that apparently giant monkeys and sea monsters attack a boat. And the monkeys are all dressed like sailors.
I must find a copy of this comic.
Right after I locate a copy of:
Because, that's why.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Sunday, May 29, 2011
A game I love and a game I...own.
When people ask me what I collect, I used to say "collections." I had an antique camera collection. A Star Wars action figure collection. A rather sizeable comic book collection. A hat collection. Sword collection, antique video game system collection, penny collection, rock collection, baseball card collection, baseball player autograph collection, tabletop RPG collection...you named it, I probably had some at some point. Scary thing is, I still have a lot of those collections, just boxed up.
And yes. I am a nerd.
But one collection surpasses all the others: I own a lot of games.
No, seriously, I own a lot of games. New and classic video games. Word puzzle games. Wooden antique games. I even own a competitive Sudoku game AND a Sudoku Rubik's cube.
And then there's the board games and card games. They can have any number of players from one to...well, one just says "four or more players." I've gotten up to 10 people to play at once, someday I'll break that record. Games that are set up, played, and done with in fifteen minutes, and games that can take weeks to complete. There are games that can be played with children and games that specifically state the players should be adults (no sex-themed games, though. With the people I see regularly, I really don't want to show up with anything that involves the words "lick" or "touch." The closest I have to that is a card game named "Wench" that...well, keep reading.)
Those still sit on their own shelves. Those are the things that get brought out now and again for fun with some friends. They're the things that, even if they completely stunk, usually had something about that I seized on and found interesting. I've introduced friends and family to games that they've enjoyed so much that they went out and bought their own copy. I've introduced friends to games that were so awkward to play that they'll likely never be brought out again unless there's copious amounts of alcohol present.
Of course, words don't really put the collection to justice. Now, it's not going to place me in a Guinness book or anything, but unless you have a lot of kids and they all get bored really easily, I'm going to assume most people reading this do not own this many games.
Without further ado, I present...the shelves.
No, that's not a complete set. In fact, about to post this, I just found another board game under my desk.
I fully plan on reviewing a few of these games, but for now a synopsis of a couple that will only fill a couple of paragraphs will work.
First up, I may as well start with the game I already mentioned, "Wench."
Advertised as a "thinking drinking game," Wench is one of the strangest games I've ever seen. Keep in mind I own a board game based on Iron Chef Japan and a card game based on beating up every other player to take their lunch money. It's fast, it's frantic, and with the right crowd, it's probably a lot of fun. I got it for free, but I never let price determine the fun factor. The object of the game is simple: get rid of the cards in your hand. This is done primarily by playing a card in front of you and by giving cards to other players. There are two types of cards: table cards and turn action cards.
Now, before I go further into the rules, let's discuss the most glaring detail of this game:
That's right. It doubles as a deck of regular playing cards, in case you're in the children's section of the library and suddenly feel like a game of solitai- what? Oh, the pictures? Well, fine then. We'll discuss that.
Wench is eye candy. It's meant to be about as classy as you'd expect to find in a game advertised for frat houses. It makes no apologies, in fact it doesn't just hang out in the gutter, it's determined to show you just how pretty the gutter can be. The artwork is by Monte Moore, whose artwork is extremely detailed and well-crafted, but does tend to contain a lot of cheesecake. But look at the detail work on the Iron Man piece below:
The man has serious talent, nobody can deny that. But if you're going to be buying a game called "Wench!" you shouldn't expect Pollock or Rembrandt to adorn the cards.
Anyway, the other key part of the cards is all that text. Each card comes with a "rule" printed on it. When rules are broken, you follow the instructions on the cards. The table cards only affect the game when they're in play. The turn action cards (with a blue border instead of a gold border) can affect the game at any time. For instance, the "Crab" card indicates that when someone picks up something with only one hand, you may immediately give them a card. Only one card can be given per player per "round" so it's important to remember who's doing what and what cards they might have.
The game also encourages secondary penalties, such as taking a drink or losing some pennies (wherever gambling isn't illegal, of course, the game is quick to specify this). I can only imagine games of this devolving into someone slipping up a few times and then getting drunk enough to keep screwing up. Maybe the purpose of the game is to show that sober people tend to win things. Clever.
Now, you might be saying, "Erik, that's all well and good. But maybe I have a bit of class, or I don't drink, or either I am or I know women who find this to be disgusting and crude. And from reading this it's obvious you wouldn't pull this game out for any random mixed group of people. What game can I play with others that is still fun but isn't for people who are either doing their best to get drunk or want to win at all costs?"
In that case, I'd recommend Once Upon A Time.
In one of the more original ideas for a game I've ever seen, this is a "storytelling card game." There are two different types of cards in the game, "Once Upon A Time" cards and "Happily Ever After" cards.
"Once Upon A Time" cards contain characters, items, places, adjectives, or events that might happen in a story being told. This could be anything from "A King," "Axe," "Very Wise," or "A Garden." Players keep a set of these in their hand. "Happily Ever After" cards give a goal to reach with your story, such as "and he learned to never gamble again" or "and once he was dead, the people were free." A player's goal is to weave a story using the cards in their hand, using and playing each one as they read what's on them in order to empty their hand.
For instance, in the example given above, you might start with "Once upon a time, there was a king. He was a very wise king, and all of his people loved him. He also had a beautiful daughter, who all the young men were in love with. One day, while in the garden..." This lets you get rid of three cards while still building an actual story. This is where the types of people you know comes into play. If you know someone who wants to win at all costs, he might just say "once upon a time a very wise king was gambling in his garden. He lost his favorite axe, and he learned to never gamble again." Technically, yes, you won, but congratulations, you're also a jerk going against the spirit of the game.
Now, the challenge is fleshing out your story well enough so that the other players don't accuse you of being said jerk but also being aware of what other people might have in your hand. Suppose an opponent had the card "hunt," and you were in the middle of telling how the hero of the story was attempting to track down a dragon. If you mentioned "hunting" or "hunt" or anything close to that (the times I've played, if someone makes a strong case for it being a close enough synonym, we allow it), that player is allowed to play the card, poach your story, and continue it in whatever direction they so desire. Suddenly, your dashing prince is a pirate lord, and your faithful dog companion becomes a robot from the future with a dire warning.
Really, the only limits on this game are the people playing it. You can rule that a card can only be played once every two sentences, that a story has to be at least 10 sentences long, that a sentence has to be more than three words, and so on. It might feel like it becomes complex at first, but again, once people get into the spirit of spinning a story for their friends that they don't want to be told sucks, the play flows naturally and becomes entertaining when someone is just about to finish explaining why "he never went in the woods alone again" and someone grabs the story and takes it in a whole new direction.
But that's two of the games for now. They're for two very different audiences, of course, and are just a sampling of the types of not just games I own, but games that are out there to be discovered. I have games about racing starships, surviving a zombie apocalypse, working with other players to cure diseases across the globe, or tracking a criminal across London. Each one will get their time in the spotlight, but for now, why not just pull out a chair, sit down, and have some fun?
"Once upon a time, there was a writer who wanted to have a really kickass blog..."
And yes. I am a nerd.
But one collection surpasses all the others: I own a lot of games.
No, seriously, I own a lot of games. New and classic video games. Word puzzle games. Wooden antique games. I even own a competitive Sudoku game AND a Sudoku Rubik's cube.
And then there's the board games and card games. They can have any number of players from one to...well, one just says "four or more players." I've gotten up to 10 people to play at once, someday I'll break that record. Games that are set up, played, and done with in fifteen minutes, and games that can take weeks to complete. There are games that can be played with children and games that specifically state the players should be adults (no sex-themed games, though. With the people I see regularly, I really don't want to show up with anything that involves the words "lick" or "touch." The closest I have to that is a card game named "Wench" that...well, keep reading.)
Those still sit on their own shelves. Those are the things that get brought out now and again for fun with some friends. They're the things that, even if they completely stunk, usually had something about that I seized on and found interesting. I've introduced friends and family to games that they've enjoyed so much that they went out and bought their own copy. I've introduced friends to games that were so awkward to play that they'll likely never be brought out again unless there's copious amounts of alcohol present.
Of course, words don't really put the collection to justice. Now, it's not going to place me in a Guinness book or anything, but unless you have a lot of kids and they all get bored really easily, I'm going to assume most people reading this do not own this many games.
Without further ado, I present...the shelves.
No, that's not a complete set. In fact, about to post this, I just found another board game under my desk.I fully plan on reviewing a few of these games, but for now a synopsis of a couple that will only fill a couple of paragraphs will work.
First up, I may as well start with the game I already mentioned, "Wench."
Advertised as a "thinking drinking game," Wench is one of the strangest games I've ever seen. Keep in mind I own a board game based on Iron Chef Japan and a card game based on beating up every other player to take their lunch money. It's fast, it's frantic, and with the right crowd, it's probably a lot of fun. I got it for free, but I never let price determine the fun factor. The object of the game is simple: get rid of the cards in your hand. This is done primarily by playing a card in front of you and by giving cards to other players. There are two types of cards: table cards and turn action cards.Now, before I go further into the rules, let's discuss the most glaring detail of this game:
That's right. It doubles as a deck of regular playing cards, in case you're in the children's section of the library and suddenly feel like a game of solitai- what? Oh, the pictures? Well, fine then. We'll discuss that.
Wench is eye candy. It's meant to be about as classy as you'd expect to find in a game advertised for frat houses. It makes no apologies, in fact it doesn't just hang out in the gutter, it's determined to show you just how pretty the gutter can be. The artwork is by Monte Moore, whose artwork is extremely detailed and well-crafted, but does tend to contain a lot of cheesecake. But look at the detail work on the Iron Man piece below:
The man has serious talent, nobody can deny that. But if you're going to be buying a game called "Wench!" you shouldn't expect Pollock or Rembrandt to adorn the cards.
Anyway, the other key part of the cards is all that text. Each card comes with a "rule" printed on it. When rules are broken, you follow the instructions on the cards. The table cards only affect the game when they're in play. The turn action cards (with a blue border instead of a gold border) can affect the game at any time. For instance, the "Crab" card indicates that when someone picks up something with only one hand, you may immediately give them a card. Only one card can be given per player per "round" so it's important to remember who's doing what and what cards they might have.
The game also encourages secondary penalties, such as taking a drink or losing some pennies (wherever gambling isn't illegal, of course, the game is quick to specify this). I can only imagine games of this devolving into someone slipping up a few times and then getting drunk enough to keep screwing up. Maybe the purpose of the game is to show that sober people tend to win things. Clever.
Now, you might be saying, "Erik, that's all well and good. But maybe I have a bit of class, or I don't drink, or either I am or I know women who find this to be disgusting and crude. And from reading this it's obvious you wouldn't pull this game out for any random mixed group of people. What game can I play with others that is still fun but isn't for people who are either doing their best to get drunk or want to win at all costs?"
In that case, I'd recommend Once Upon A Time.
In one of the more original ideas for a game I've ever seen, this is a "storytelling card game." There are two different types of cards in the game, "Once Upon A Time" cards and "Happily Ever After" cards.
"Once Upon A Time" cards contain characters, items, places, adjectives, or events that might happen in a story being told. This could be anything from "A King," "Axe," "Very Wise," or "A Garden." Players keep a set of these in their hand. "Happily Ever After" cards give a goal to reach with your story, such as "and he learned to never gamble again" or "and once he was dead, the people were free." A player's goal is to weave a story using the cards in their hand, using and playing each one as they read what's on them in order to empty their hand.
For instance, in the example given above, you might start with "Once upon a time, there was a king. He was a very wise king, and all of his people loved him. He also had a beautiful daughter, who all the young men were in love with. One day, while in the garden..." This lets you get rid of three cards while still building an actual story. This is where the types of people you know comes into play. If you know someone who wants to win at all costs, he might just say "once upon a time a very wise king was gambling in his garden. He lost his favorite axe, and he learned to never gamble again." Technically, yes, you won, but congratulations, you're also a jerk going against the spirit of the game.
Now, the challenge is fleshing out your story well enough so that the other players don't accuse you of being said jerk but also being aware of what other people might have in your hand. Suppose an opponent had the card "hunt," and you were in the middle of telling how the hero of the story was attempting to track down a dragon. If you mentioned "hunting" or "hunt" or anything close to that (the times I've played, if someone makes a strong case for it being a close enough synonym, we allow it), that player is allowed to play the card, poach your story, and continue it in whatever direction they so desire. Suddenly, your dashing prince is a pirate lord, and your faithful dog companion becomes a robot from the future with a dire warning.
Really, the only limits on this game are the people playing it. You can rule that a card can only be played once every two sentences, that a story has to be at least 10 sentences long, that a sentence has to be more than three words, and so on. It might feel like it becomes complex at first, but again, once people get into the spirit of spinning a story for their friends that they don't want to be told sucks, the play flows naturally and becomes entertaining when someone is just about to finish explaining why "he never went in the woods alone again" and someone grabs the story and takes it in a whole new direction.
But that's two of the games for now. They're for two very different audiences, of course, and are just a sampling of the types of not just games I own, but games that are out there to be discovered. I have games about racing starships, surviving a zombie apocalypse, working with other players to cure diseases across the globe, or tracking a criminal across London. Each one will get their time in the spotlight, but for now, why not just pull out a chair, sit down, and have some fun?
"Once upon a time, there was a writer who wanted to have a really kickass blog..."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)