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Meet the Asteroids Family!
General | Posted 8 years agoI hope we all remember the video game Asteroids, right? In true arcade fashion it was a black-and-white vector game where you had to pilot a ship around an asteroid field, cracking the asteroids into smaller pieces without running into them. It was all easy until you lit the engines because true to space, your ship carried momentum in the vacuum of space and it was far too easy to end up careening in the worst possible direction. Some variants gave you a shield, or a hyperspace drive to teleport yourself out of a jam (and often into an even worse jam).
The sequel to Asteroids is called Space Duel and it lands near the top of my list of favorite video games. It was essentially Asteroids but color vector and with geometric shapes rather than asteroids. Still, you shot at them and broke them into smaller pieces and careened halfway out of control across the screen. Defense consisted of a shield that could be put up for a short amount of time. Space Duel could be played single or dual player, in competitive mode with separate lives and scores, or team mode with shared lives and score.
Team mode was definitely the best.
In this mode the red and green ships were joined together by a rigid filament that could freely pivot around. In single player mode, both ships turned in unison. Both ships fired in unison. Both ships used shields in unison. But when you lit the engines? Only the red ship would supply thrust. So suddenly you have asymmetrical thrust in this balanced system that sent both ships in an eccentric cartwheel across the screen, "leapfrogging" as they spun around each other. In two player mode, each ship was independently controlled, so both could be thrusting in different directions, fighting or magnifying each others' forces and creating insane directional vectors that led to dizzying spins and erratic movements.
One of the advantages of team mode was that you got a free hit: the first time you ran into an enemy, the colliding ship would become severely damaged. The blaster was weakened, the shield was degraded and the engine was down on power. But you would survive. However, another hit to either ship was fatal: that ship would be destroyed completely and the filament would burn up like a fuse until it destroyed the other ship.
If you ever find Space Duel in a dark corner of an arcade, give it a quarter and definitely try team mode. It's worth the quarter for the amusement factor.
The sequel to Space Duel (and grandchild of Asteroids) was "Blasteroids". Blasteroids was a raster version with spacescape backgrounds and great border art. The unique draw was that there were three ships: the "Speeder" with big engines and light armor, the "Fighter" with the big cannon and the "Warrior" with heavy armour. And you could switch between ship types on the fly as you did battle with space rocks. You had an energy reserve that was used up when using shields or engines. When your energy is gone... the ship is dead. There were also extra powerups and energy pods to gather while trying not to run into the asteroids.
Two player games were co-op (separate scores but no friendly fire) and there was yet another twist: if one player was using the Speeder while the other was using the Warrior and the two ships touched... they would combine together into the Starlet! The Warrior would become an even bigger, heavier ship with a powerful, slow cannon and control of the engines. The Speeder would become a turret perched atop the big heavy, able to spin 360 degrees and plink away at threats. If either player changed ship types, they would de-combine back into two ships.
Rather than buttons to rotate the ships like its predecessors, Blasteroids had an optical spinner control (think "Tempest" or "TRON") to rotate the ship. This made being the turret on the Starlet extremely satisfying, able to spin quickly around and unleash a volley of death.
The sequel to Asteroids is called Space Duel and it lands near the top of my list of favorite video games. It was essentially Asteroids but color vector and with geometric shapes rather than asteroids. Still, you shot at them and broke them into smaller pieces and careened halfway out of control across the screen. Defense consisted of a shield that could be put up for a short amount of time. Space Duel could be played single or dual player, in competitive mode with separate lives and scores, or team mode with shared lives and score.
Team mode was definitely the best.
In this mode the red and green ships were joined together by a rigid filament that could freely pivot around. In single player mode, both ships turned in unison. Both ships fired in unison. Both ships used shields in unison. But when you lit the engines? Only the red ship would supply thrust. So suddenly you have asymmetrical thrust in this balanced system that sent both ships in an eccentric cartwheel across the screen, "leapfrogging" as they spun around each other. In two player mode, each ship was independently controlled, so both could be thrusting in different directions, fighting or magnifying each others' forces and creating insane directional vectors that led to dizzying spins and erratic movements.
One of the advantages of team mode was that you got a free hit: the first time you ran into an enemy, the colliding ship would become severely damaged. The blaster was weakened, the shield was degraded and the engine was down on power. But you would survive. However, another hit to either ship was fatal: that ship would be destroyed completely and the filament would burn up like a fuse until it destroyed the other ship.
If you ever find Space Duel in a dark corner of an arcade, give it a quarter and definitely try team mode. It's worth the quarter for the amusement factor.
The sequel to Space Duel (and grandchild of Asteroids) was "Blasteroids". Blasteroids was a raster version with spacescape backgrounds and great border art. The unique draw was that there were three ships: the "Speeder" with big engines and light armor, the "Fighter" with the big cannon and the "Warrior" with heavy armour. And you could switch between ship types on the fly as you did battle with space rocks. You had an energy reserve that was used up when using shields or engines. When your energy is gone... the ship is dead. There were also extra powerups and energy pods to gather while trying not to run into the asteroids.
Two player games were co-op (separate scores but no friendly fire) and there was yet another twist: if one player was using the Speeder while the other was using the Warrior and the two ships touched... they would combine together into the Starlet! The Warrior would become an even bigger, heavier ship with a powerful, slow cannon and control of the engines. The Speeder would become a turret perched atop the big heavy, able to spin 360 degrees and plink away at threats. If either player changed ship types, they would de-combine back into two ships.
Rather than buttons to rotate the ships like its predecessors, Blasteroids had an optical spinner control (think "Tempest" or "TRON") to rotate the ship. This made being the turret on the Starlet extremely satisfying, able to spin quickly around and unleash a volley of death.
So many stairs! I DON'T KNOW WHY THERE ARE SO MANY STAIRS!!
General | Posted 8 years agoOh my goodness, is anyone else as pumped for Final Space as I am? No? Would this trailer change your mind?
I caught the sneak peek of the first two episodes on TNT last weekend and... I can't remember reacting to an animated series like this since I stumbled over Rick and Morty. Except of course I knew what Final Space was going in to it. It's goofy and funny, but has that certain amount of smarts and maturity to it... a proper drama clothed in slick animation with just enough humor to taste. I have high hopes for the writing and get the feeling I won't be disappointed.
And the action... the last time I held my breath during action sequences was watching FLCL. It all happens so quickly and smoothly and beautifully I can't help but watch in amazement. Bounty hunters getting sucked out into space through a hull breach, only to drift back into the ship's light-fold system as it spools up... their bodies disintegrating in the energy field... it may be animated, but it's grown-up animation.
Of course I am now officially pissed off that I have to wait two more weeks for new episodes! It officially premieres this Monday (February 26) but with episode one. And the week after that is episode two so it's going to be the second full week of March before I get a new episode.
I. Can't. Wait.
I caught the sneak peek of the first two episodes on TNT last weekend and... I can't remember reacting to an animated series like this since I stumbled over Rick and Morty. Except of course I knew what Final Space was going in to it. It's goofy and funny, but has that certain amount of smarts and maturity to it... a proper drama clothed in slick animation with just enough humor to taste. I have high hopes for the writing and get the feeling I won't be disappointed.
And the action... the last time I held my breath during action sequences was watching FLCL. It all happens so quickly and smoothly and beautifully I can't help but watch in amazement. Bounty hunters getting sucked out into space through a hull breach, only to drift back into the ship's light-fold system as it spools up... their bodies disintegrating in the energy field... it may be animated, but it's grown-up animation.
Of course I am now officially pissed off that I have to wait two more weeks for new episodes! It officially premieres this Monday (February 26) but with episode one. And the week after that is episode two so it's going to be the second full week of March before I get a new episode.
I. Can't. Wait.
On The Run
General | Posted 8 years ago. “I’m running for it.” I mouthed the words at Martin.
. “How?”
. “First shot of daylight.” I had to put him on notice, so he’d plot his own route out. Leaving him hanging with the tab, without fair warning, was an unforgivable foul.
. “What’s his name?” The manager was short and stocky, moving quickly with a jerky gait. As he closed in our group at the bar, I shifted left along the drink rail, to position myself for escape.
. “He has seizures.” Didn’t know where it came from. Just seemed the right thing to say.
. “Seizures? That make him break plates? Ash cigarettes in the ground beef?”
. “Epileptic.” Martin gave me a lifeline.
. “Epileptic?”
. “Insulin withdrawal… He starts drooling, wetting himself. It’s horrible.” As the manager turned in his direction, I slid another foot closer to the door.
. “I don’t care. Who’s paying for this?” By the time the manager turned back to me, I was already setting to run, tiptoeing around the pile of food scattered on the floor from Henry’s run-in with the waitress.
. “Is that salsa verde?” I needed a solid line to change the subject, make it appear I was merely inspecting the mess, rather than sneaking out through it. This was not an optimal selection.
. “You’re not going anywhere! I’ll call the cops.”
. Fuck it. l I felt along the floor for traction, to ensure I wasn’t standing in enchilada sauce or a puddle of frozen margaritas, then turned on the burners. Halfway to the door Martin broadsided me out of the blue, pinwheeling me sideways into the hostess’s podium, all but spearing the woman, bouncing off the fixture, out the door and stumbling sideways into foot traffic on the sidewalk.
. “What the fuck?”
. “You don’t go at the same time I’m going.”
. “How did I know you were going?”
. “You were watching me go.”
. “I wasn’t watching you go.”
. “You had to have been watching me go.”
. “What? Like everyone’s watching you? Hey, let’s see when ‘Hollywood’ goes?”
. “Do you run in front of a blocker? Is that how you run?”
. “I played soccer.”
. “Of course you did.”
. “You stop! Stop!” The hostess emerged from the doorway, followed by manager in tow. We collected ourselves and took off down the sidewalk.
. “Get back here!” The manager held to us tightly, ten or so yards behind.
. “Why the fuck doesn’t he just grab Bennett?”
. “He took off. Snuck out behind Henry as soon as the shit happened.”
. “Fucking– He’s like a fucking cockroach.”
. “Would you fucking watch it?” Martin leapt in front of me, to avoid being railroaded into a crowd of women walking toward us on the left.
. “Do you have any idea how to run in traffic?”
. “What the fuck do you know? Did you play football?”
. “I had a girlfriend.”
. “I said stop!” The manager’s voice was growing faint, but I didn’t dare turn to look in his direction. Any false move – tripping and falling or running into someone – and we were done.
. “What does having a girlfriend have to do with playing football?”
. “You play high school football to get laid, right?”
. “You play lacrosse to get laid.”
. “Either way, nobody ever got laid because of soccer.”
. “Fuck you. You didn’t even play football.”
. “I did the lifting and conditioning shit.”
. “So?”
. “They wanted us to do double sessions. Eight hours a day? Running in pads in the heat?”
. “Candy ass… You’d die playing soccer.”
. “I wound up banging a chick. Didn’t need it anymore.”
. “You’re fucked, you know that?”
. “No ‘team’ in ‘I.’ Which way do you think Henry went?”
. “Listen for sirens. He’s either being arrested or been hit by something.”
. “I got to take a break, seriously.”
. We’d run at least two blocks, with the manager trailing behind us, dropping further and further back as we moved along, when Martin decided to turn. “Here… Take a right. Just to make sure we lose him.”
. “I really need a break. I’m dying here.”
. I was twenty yards down the sidewalk after the turn, still running full bore, when I felt the first pain in my throat. It came like a lightning bolt, shocking me just north of the collarbone – sharp, stinging, sucking all the wind out of my esophagus. What the f– I’d barely had a chance to think when the next pain shot through the left side of my neck, just below my jaw, radiating up through my teeth and snapping my head straight back. Motherfu– What the hell is happening?
. “How?”
. “First shot of daylight.” I had to put him on notice, so he’d plot his own route out. Leaving him hanging with the tab, without fair warning, was an unforgivable foul.
. “What’s his name?” The manager was short and stocky, moving quickly with a jerky gait. As he closed in our group at the bar, I shifted left along the drink rail, to position myself for escape.
. “He has seizures.” Didn’t know where it came from. Just seemed the right thing to say.
. “Seizures? That make him break plates? Ash cigarettes in the ground beef?”
. “Epileptic.” Martin gave me a lifeline.
. “Epileptic?”
. “Insulin withdrawal… He starts drooling, wetting himself. It’s horrible.” As the manager turned in his direction, I slid another foot closer to the door.
. “I don’t care. Who’s paying for this?” By the time the manager turned back to me, I was already setting to run, tiptoeing around the pile of food scattered on the floor from Henry’s run-in with the waitress.
. “Is that salsa verde?” I needed a solid line to change the subject, make it appear I was merely inspecting the mess, rather than sneaking out through it. This was not an optimal selection.
. “You’re not going anywhere! I’ll call the cops.”
. Fuck it. l I felt along the floor for traction, to ensure I wasn’t standing in enchilada sauce or a puddle of frozen margaritas, then turned on the burners. Halfway to the door Martin broadsided me out of the blue, pinwheeling me sideways into the hostess’s podium, all but spearing the woman, bouncing off the fixture, out the door and stumbling sideways into foot traffic on the sidewalk.
. “What the fuck?”
. “You don’t go at the same time I’m going.”
. “How did I know you were going?”
. “You were watching me go.”
. “I wasn’t watching you go.”
. “You had to have been watching me go.”
. “What? Like everyone’s watching you? Hey, let’s see when ‘Hollywood’ goes?”
. “Do you run in front of a blocker? Is that how you run?”
. “I played soccer.”
. “Of course you did.”
. “You stop! Stop!” The hostess emerged from the doorway, followed by manager in tow. We collected ourselves and took off down the sidewalk.
. “Get back here!” The manager held to us tightly, ten or so yards behind.
. “Why the fuck doesn’t he just grab Bennett?”
. “He took off. Snuck out behind Henry as soon as the shit happened.”
. “Fucking– He’s like a fucking cockroach.”
. “Would you fucking watch it?” Martin leapt in front of me, to avoid being railroaded into a crowd of women walking toward us on the left.
. “Do you have any idea how to run in traffic?”
. “What the fuck do you know? Did you play football?”
. “I had a girlfriend.”
. “I said stop!” The manager’s voice was growing faint, but I didn’t dare turn to look in his direction. Any false move – tripping and falling or running into someone – and we were done.
. “What does having a girlfriend have to do with playing football?”
. “You play high school football to get laid, right?”
. “You play lacrosse to get laid.”
. “Either way, nobody ever got laid because of soccer.”
. “Fuck you. You didn’t even play football.”
. “I did the lifting and conditioning shit.”
. “So?”
. “They wanted us to do double sessions. Eight hours a day? Running in pads in the heat?”
. “Candy ass… You’d die playing soccer.”
. “I wound up banging a chick. Didn’t need it anymore.”
. “You’re fucked, you know that?”
. “No ‘team’ in ‘I.’ Which way do you think Henry went?”
. “Listen for sirens. He’s either being arrested or been hit by something.”
. “I got to take a break, seriously.”
. We’d run at least two blocks, with the manager trailing behind us, dropping further and further back as we moved along, when Martin decided to turn. “Here… Take a right. Just to make sure we lose him.”
. “I really need a break. I’m dying here.”
. I was twenty yards down the sidewalk after the turn, still running full bore, when I felt the first pain in my throat. It came like a lightning bolt, shocking me just north of the collarbone – sharp, stinging, sucking all the wind out of my esophagus. What the f– I’d barely had a chance to think when the next pain shot through the left side of my neck, just below my jaw, radiating up through my teeth and snapping my head straight back. Motherfu– What the hell is happening?
-Excerpt from A Little of This, A Little of That
by The Philadelphia LawyerRacing in The Matrix
General | Posted 8 years agoI've been putting a lot of time in with GTR2 lately, trying to make my way through the different unofficial race series (gives me specific cars and tracks to focus on). Currently testing and tuning a Ferrari 360 GTC at Autodromo Nazionale Monza (or just "Monza" to its friends).
Strangely, there have been a few instances lately as I fly down the back straight toward the Curva Parabolica that I become suddenly and acutely aware that this is nothing more than a huge collection of numbers. Yet... I can hear the engine. I can see the stitching in the leather of the dashboard. I can look out the window and see the trees, the catch-fencing, the famous podium as I shriek past on the front straight, the underpass under the original banked oval. I can even feel the car fight me as I lock up the back tires going into the Variante del Rettifilo, the tail squirming and threatening to step out sideways.
I can see and hear and feel it all... but it's all numbers. Loads and loads of mathematics and functions, computed at high speed and then represented to me via sight and sound and tactile feedback. There is no 360 GTC. It isn't at Monza (although Monza is a real track that exists in Italy... or does it?). There is no 3.6 litre V8 two feet behind me screaming out it's seductive tune. No coolant circulating through the engine and radiator, even if I can get a temperature reading on it and the engine oil.
It gets even more absurd when I think about going back to the garage and adjusting settings on the car. When I dial out rear wing, what exactly am I doing? I mean, do I think that's air flowing over the rear wing and pushing the car down? When I dial out rear wing, all I'm doing is changing a variable in a formula somewhere deep in the simulation so it gives a different result when fed a set of inputs. And the altered result of that formula feeds others to affect ride height and tire grip and aerodynamic drag... but it's still just numbers!
You know, I know this car doesn't exist. I know that when I drive it around a track, the Matrix is telling my brain that the tires are gripping the track, the bumps and ripples in the asphalt rattling the steering wheel and the engine is working to propel me down the track, exhaust snapping and popping on deceleration and that the sun is sinking low, spreading orange light in the windows of the car. After ten years, you know what I realize? Ignorance is bliss.
If you're ever on a Multi-user text system, try not to think about how it's all nothing more than a huge database. You think when you type "west" that you're moving in a direction? Into another place that on a map would be to the left of where you were? "West" is a link to another database entry. It's your brain that interprets it as a direction that can be traveled to a new place.
And yet... all those database entries, all linked together... they can make some pretty fantastic worlds.
Strangely, there have been a few instances lately as I fly down the back straight toward the Curva Parabolica that I become suddenly and acutely aware that this is nothing more than a huge collection of numbers. Yet... I can hear the engine. I can see the stitching in the leather of the dashboard. I can look out the window and see the trees, the catch-fencing, the famous podium as I shriek past on the front straight, the underpass under the original banked oval. I can even feel the car fight me as I lock up the back tires going into the Variante del Rettifilo, the tail squirming and threatening to step out sideways.
I can see and hear and feel it all... but it's all numbers. Loads and loads of mathematics and functions, computed at high speed and then represented to me via sight and sound and tactile feedback. There is no 360 GTC. It isn't at Monza (although Monza is a real track that exists in Italy... or does it?). There is no 3.6 litre V8 two feet behind me screaming out it's seductive tune. No coolant circulating through the engine and radiator, even if I can get a temperature reading on it and the engine oil.
It gets even more absurd when I think about going back to the garage and adjusting settings on the car. When I dial out rear wing, what exactly am I doing? I mean, do I think that's air flowing over the rear wing and pushing the car down? When I dial out rear wing, all I'm doing is changing a variable in a formula somewhere deep in the simulation so it gives a different result when fed a set of inputs. And the altered result of that formula feeds others to affect ride height and tire grip and aerodynamic drag... but it's still just numbers!
You know, I know this car doesn't exist. I know that when I drive it around a track, the Matrix is telling my brain that the tires are gripping the track, the bumps and ripples in the asphalt rattling the steering wheel and the engine is working to propel me down the track, exhaust snapping and popping on deceleration and that the sun is sinking low, spreading orange light in the windows of the car. After ten years, you know what I realize? Ignorance is bliss.
If you're ever on a Multi-user text system, try not to think about how it's all nothing more than a huge database. You think when you type "west" that you're moving in a direction? Into another place that on a map would be to the left of where you were? "West" is a link to another database entry. It's your brain that interprets it as a direction that can be traveled to a new place.
And yet... all those database entries, all linked together... they can make some pretty fantastic worlds.
Climbing the Mountain
General | Posted 8 years agoToonami is re-running Space Dandy... and I wouldn't have known except I caught the "up next" blurb after Outlaw Star. It's a not-at-all-serious take on bounty hunting, kind of the polar-opposite of Cowboy Bebop. Not to say it doesn't have some deep moments, or some great plotlines. I'm just saying this is Bebop if Spike had a pompadour haircut and was... not quite as skilled as his ego led him to believe. It does seem to take place in the same story universe as Bebop, given that everyone deals in Woolong.
And like anything that Shinichiro Watanabe touches, the music is completely off the chain. Except this time instead of The Seatbelts, it's Mountain Mocha Kilimanjaro, a jazz-funk sextet. I mean, just dig into the English opening credit music, "Cosmic Adventure"... oh my Lord the funk of it all! And when was the last time you heard a TB-303 solo in a funk tune?
MMK was also responsible for the English end credits music, "Word Pack" as well as several music cuts throughout the series.
In my little bit of research, I'm starting to think I can't click on any tune from MMK and not hit a winner. Just listen to the clips they have up on their SoundCloud page and tell me you disagree.
And like anything that Shinichiro Watanabe touches, the music is completely off the chain. Except this time instead of The Seatbelts, it's Mountain Mocha Kilimanjaro, a jazz-funk sextet. I mean, just dig into the English opening credit music, "Cosmic Adventure"... oh my Lord the funk of it all! And when was the last time you heard a TB-303 solo in a funk tune?
MMK was also responsible for the English end credits music, "Word Pack" as well as several music cuts throughout the series.
In my little bit of research, I'm starting to think I can't click on any tune from MMK and not hit a winner. Just listen to the clips they have up on their SoundCloud page and tell me you disagree.
The Barber of Seville
General | Posted 8 years agoSo after years and years of "The Rabbit of Seville", when I heard that the local opera company was putting on "The Barber of Seville" I figured I had to go see it. After all, with the music so ingrained in my life... it would be good to see the real thing, right? It's the classic story of count loves rich pupil, rich pupil loves count but her guardian has his eye on her. So Count Almaviva enlists the help of the local town barber to help woo Rosina and foil Bartolo's plot to marry her. How could that possibly go wrong?
So how was it? Well first, it's an Opera Buffa, a "comic opera". From the first scene, we have Almaviva trying to serenade Rosina from the town square, but the musicians were up late drinking and are still half-asleep, falling over and generally out of sorts.
Figaro makes his debut with the Make way for the factotum of the city we should all know from cartoons: "Make way for the factotum of the city". (A factotum is defined as a person who serves in a wide range of capacities) You know, the classic "Fiiii-gaaa-roooo!". It's a song all about all the services he provides and how everyone wants Figaro. The part where he's calling out his name like others are calling him... that's exactly what it is. "Figaro!" "I'm here!" "Hey! Figaro!" "I'm here!" And then into, "Figaro here, Figaro there, Figaro high, Figaro low..." It's a funny song when you understand the lyrics! Nothing but a pure ego trip.
(By the way, if you're the kind of person that thinks Whoopi Goldberg needed to be at the beginning of the Warner Bros. cartoon collection DVDs telling people that the stereotype humor in cartoons wasn't right then and isn't right now... I'd be careful with that link. Magical Maestro is some classic Tex Avery... Nuf said)
And then when Almaviva goes to enlist Figaro's help, they have a duet where they barter the price called "At the idea of that metal". And every time Almaviva drops a gold coin into Figaro's hand, his expression is so full of such pleasure that by the end it's nearly orgasmic.
There's even what we'd consider a meta-joke: in the second act, Almaviva is disguised as a substitute music teacher for Rosina and when he asks her what she'd like to sing, she says an aria from "The Useless Precaution". The full title of this opera is "The Barber of Seville, or The Useless Precaution". So Rosina said she wanted to sing an aria from the opera... that she is a character in!
So if you ever get the chance to see The Barber of Seville and don't mind reading supertitles, I'd say give it a shot. It's rather accessible to non-opera buffs (like me) and quite funny and lighthearted.
This is definitely not the only opera to show up in cartoons. And classical music in a cartoon is not exclusively Warner Bros. domain either. Anyone remember when Tom and Jerry ended up in a performance of Carmen? The gag when Jerry throws Tom's "violin" into fast-forward cracks me up every time! And we almost get a taste of the classic aria from Carmen... until the singer runs away screaming about a mouse.
Interesting to note, the overture of The Barber of Seville (which is what "The Rabbit of Seville" is based on) has nothing to do with any of the music in the opera. Ordinarily an overture is a montage of the music from the piece you're about to see (Family Guy tends to do this on their "Road to..." specials) but Rossini recycled the overture from two previous operas that he had composed. Strange, but true...
Also... if you don't think the cartoons have any influence on people, in the local news piece about the performance, the two people from the opera company being interviewed made direct reference to The Rabbit of Seville. One of them was even making the motions of Bugs Bunny massaging Elmer's scalp as he sung the part from the overture. It's ingrained in our very beings by now!
So how was it? Well first, it's an Opera Buffa, a "comic opera". From the first scene, we have Almaviva trying to serenade Rosina from the town square, but the musicians were up late drinking and are still half-asleep, falling over and generally out of sorts.
Figaro makes his debut with the Make way for the factotum of the city we should all know from cartoons: "Make way for the factotum of the city". (A factotum is defined as a person who serves in a wide range of capacities) You know, the classic "Fiiii-gaaa-roooo!". It's a song all about all the services he provides and how everyone wants Figaro. The part where he's calling out his name like others are calling him... that's exactly what it is. "Figaro!" "I'm here!" "Hey! Figaro!" "I'm here!" And then into, "Figaro here, Figaro there, Figaro high, Figaro low..." It's a funny song when you understand the lyrics! Nothing but a pure ego trip.
(By the way, if you're the kind of person that thinks Whoopi Goldberg needed to be at the beginning of the Warner Bros. cartoon collection DVDs telling people that the stereotype humor in cartoons wasn't right then and isn't right now... I'd be careful with that link. Magical Maestro is some classic Tex Avery... Nuf said)
And then when Almaviva goes to enlist Figaro's help, they have a duet where they barter the price called "At the idea of that metal". And every time Almaviva drops a gold coin into Figaro's hand, his expression is so full of such pleasure that by the end it's nearly orgasmic.
There's even what we'd consider a meta-joke: in the second act, Almaviva is disguised as a substitute music teacher for Rosina and when he asks her what she'd like to sing, she says an aria from "The Useless Precaution". The full title of this opera is "The Barber of Seville, or The Useless Precaution". So Rosina said she wanted to sing an aria from the opera... that she is a character in!
So if you ever get the chance to see The Barber of Seville and don't mind reading supertitles, I'd say give it a shot. It's rather accessible to non-opera buffs (like me) and quite funny and lighthearted.
This is definitely not the only opera to show up in cartoons. And classical music in a cartoon is not exclusively Warner Bros. domain either. Anyone remember when Tom and Jerry ended up in a performance of Carmen? The gag when Jerry throws Tom's "violin" into fast-forward cracks me up every time! And we almost get a taste of the classic aria from Carmen... until the singer runs away screaming about a mouse.
Interesting to note, the overture of The Barber of Seville (which is what "The Rabbit of Seville" is based on) has nothing to do with any of the music in the opera. Ordinarily an overture is a montage of the music from the piece you're about to see (Family Guy tends to do this on their "Road to..." specials) but Rossini recycled the overture from two previous operas that he had composed. Strange, but true...
Also... if you don't think the cartoons have any influence on people, in the local news piece about the performance, the two people from the opera company being interviewed made direct reference to The Rabbit of Seville. One of them was even making the motions of Bugs Bunny massaging Elmer's scalp as he sung the part from the overture. It's ingrained in our very beings by now!
Losing The Tail
General | Posted 8 years ago"That won't save your ass when the tail gets away from you while you're doing triple digits. Lose the wind current pushing the backfin down and those little skateboards slide all over the road."
He cracked the gum between his tongue and palate. "Oh yeh?"
"I hit that draft once at 120... years ago. You shit your pants is what happens there." I didn't mention the when, where or why of that experience. The tone of my voice conveyed it all. You never lose a memory like that - paralyzed in the passenger seat, in the upswing of a blazing kind bud buzz, humming along on a rural highway through the woods... The needle ticks into triple digits and you reach for the seatbelt. "Kid yourself," your buddy Paul screams into the wind. You stare at the bastard. How many Dos Equis has he had? A hill approaches and over it you go... a smooth left with a slight berm... the creaky old 911 holds tight, on rails... around, around, around the turn, then suddenly - The Truck, 100 yards ahead. It's too late when you see it... you're already in the draft. The ass slides sideways... an inch, a foot, a lane? Whatever... You can feel the Gs whipping you off the road, over an embankment, through a barbed wire fence into a monstrous oak. Spwhack - you're the meat of an exploding bullet of plasma, bone, flesh and German shrapnel. Then, just as suddenly, the wheels catch. Paul drops it a gear. "I never eased off... You gotta drive straight through those or you're fucked!" The dope and adrenaline have your brain boiling. You stare at the seatbelt buckle in your white-knuckle grip. "Yeh. Of course... straight through."
I didn't explain that back story to the cop; he didn't seem one for nuance.
He cracked the gum between his tongue and palate. "Oh yeh?"
"I hit that draft once at 120... years ago. You shit your pants is what happens there." I didn't mention the when, where or why of that experience. The tone of my voice conveyed it all. You never lose a memory like that - paralyzed in the passenger seat, in the upswing of a blazing kind bud buzz, humming along on a rural highway through the woods... The needle ticks into triple digits and you reach for the seatbelt. "Kid yourself," your buddy Paul screams into the wind. You stare at the bastard. How many Dos Equis has he had? A hill approaches and over it you go... a smooth left with a slight berm... the creaky old 911 holds tight, on rails... around, around, around the turn, then suddenly - The Truck, 100 yards ahead. It's too late when you see it... you're already in the draft. The ass slides sideways... an inch, a foot, a lane? Whatever... You can feel the Gs whipping you off the road, over an embankment, through a barbed wire fence into a monstrous oak. Spwhack - you're the meat of an exploding bullet of plasma, bone, flesh and German shrapnel. Then, just as suddenly, the wheels catch. Paul drops it a gear. "I never eased off... You gotta drive straight through those or you're fucked!" The dope and adrenaline have your brain boiling. You stare at the seatbelt buckle in your white-knuckle grip. "Yeh. Of course... straight through."
I didn't explain that back story to the cop; he didn't seem one for nuance.
-- The Nude Beach
The Philadelphia LawyerYou can swing for the fences, but what if you strike out?
General | Posted 8 years agoThe other ninety five percent are fated to be frustrated. Of those, many are doomed to read books about people like Fifty-Cent, or the latest tome from some entrepreneur who sold to Google for millions, and wonder, “Why hasn’t this happened to me?”
Because, again, a lot if it is luck. It’s true. You might not want to hear that, but it’s fact. And we all know it’s true. From the luck of birth into the right family to the luck of happening to run into a future business investor while getting a morning coffee around the corner from the job you’re dying to leave. It’s a lot like falling in love. Suppose you’d never stumbled into your significant other on the subway that morning? Suppose you’d slept late and taken a 9:50 train? Etc.
There’s no decent reason not to tell every person to Take His Chance, to swing for the fences and try to follow his passion, and perhaps become a billionaire in the process. But the flip side of that reality is something we ignore to our detriment. If this rigged game of McCapitalism should fail you... If you can’t find a career you love, or at least a career you hate that allows you to retire early, Then What?
Because, again, a lot if it is luck. It’s true. You might not want to hear that, but it’s fact. And we all know it’s true. From the luck of birth into the right family to the luck of happening to run into a future business investor while getting a morning coffee around the corner from the job you’re dying to leave. It’s a lot like falling in love. Suppose you’d never stumbled into your significant other on the subway that morning? Suppose you’d slept late and taken a 9:50 train? Etc.
There’s no decent reason not to tell every person to Take His Chance, to swing for the fences and try to follow his passion, and perhaps become a billionaire in the process. But the flip side of that reality is something we ignore to our detriment. If this rigged game of McCapitalism should fail you... If you can’t find a career you love, or at least a career you hate that allows you to retire early, Then What?
-- "Short The Revolution"
The Philadelphia LawyerMagic Moments
General | Posted 8 years agoIf you've run from cops you know there's an instant at the outset, before the jets fire, when your feet suddenly weigh a thousand pounds apiece. The body seizes for a moment, every synapse in the flight system jacking massive adrenaline rushes into the bloodstream at once. The engine redlines - you feel your pulse stretching your arteries, first in your stomach, then your neck. Your hands go numb; your jaw's a clamped vice; your brain games the next ten moves at light speed. I bolt up the driveway, out to the street, but then what? Do I bolt for another fraternity house, run inside and hide in a random room? Make a dead run straight into the woods across the street? Is the guy with the flashlight fast enough to run a pattern with me? Could I burn him? Why am I wearing boat shoes this time of year?
"I got it. I got it." Harris was coming back, shaking off the last trails of the gas. "Wheeew. That's pretty intense." He grabbed the wheel from my hand and pressed on the accelerator. I pulled a cartridge from the bag on the floor and slid it into the cracker. The balloon filled; I inhaled deeply and slid back into the seat, numb, mouth breathing, staring out the window, a short bus mongoloid. The City was coming up fast on my right and I was warm with joy. This was a teaser; in four hours, I'd be a million miles out of mind. Maybe I'd even get some...
-- "You Can't Go Back, Part 1"
The Philadelphia Lawyer"I got it. I got it." Harris was coming back, shaking off the last trails of the gas. "Wheeew. That's pretty intense." He grabbed the wheel from my hand and pressed on the accelerator. I pulled a cartridge from the bag on the floor and slid it into the cracker. The balloon filled; I inhaled deeply and slid back into the seat, numb, mouth breathing, staring out the window, a short bus mongoloid. The City was coming up fast on my right and I was warm with joy. This was a teaser; in four hours, I'd be a million miles out of mind. Maybe I'd even get some...
-- "The Drought, Part 2"
The Philadelphia LawyerThe Real Writers
General | Posted 8 years agoSome of you think I'm a good writer, and for that, I thank you. But there's really nothing special about the generic paperback pulp that I write. It's contrived and it's predictable and more often than not it's pretty childish. There's too much action and not enough description.
Not like The Last Psychiatrist. I mean, The Plan Will Always Fail Catastrophically? Holy smokes, that's a title! It makes you want to read it right there. And what a read... what a crazy, creepy, fascinating read. As only someone well-versed in the mind could write.
And then, there's The Philadelphia Lawyer,. This guy can write and he's a slacker lawyer. You can't throw a rock on his site without hitting something amazing. Whether it's anecdotes about getting Banned in DC (part 2 here) or why The Amish Look only works for the Amish or even why to this day he never uses The Speakerphone (and part 2)... this writing is absolutely brilliant.
So I'm glad some of you enjoy what I write. I hope someday I can be motivated enough to crank out more of it. Lord knows I've got several things I've started and then just... lost the will to continue. But please, don't call what I do good. Not when there's so much else out on the internet that's better.
Not like The Last Psychiatrist. I mean, The Plan Will Always Fail Catastrophically? Holy smokes, that's a title! It makes you want to read it right there. And what a read... what a crazy, creepy, fascinating read. As only someone well-versed in the mind could write.
And then, there's The Philadelphia Lawyer,. This guy can write and he's a slacker lawyer. You can't throw a rock on his site without hitting something amazing. Whether it's anecdotes about getting Banned in DC (part 2 here) or why The Amish Look only works for the Amish or even why to this day he never uses The Speakerphone (and part 2)... this writing is absolutely brilliant.
So I'm glad some of you enjoy what I write. I hope someday I can be motivated enough to crank out more of it. Lord knows I've got several things I've started and then just... lost the will to continue. But please, don't call what I do good. Not when there's so much else out on the internet that's better.
A Peek Behind the Curtain
General | Posted 8 years ago(Actual conversation over intercom during a midday newscast at my old employer after starting playback on a pre-produced news package about pro-Trump demonstrators)
Anchor: Oh. If I had known this was about pro-Trump people, I never would have run it.
Me: It doesn't hurt to show both sides now and then.
Anchor: But I don't want the viewers thinking I'm pro-Trump.
Me: .....
Anchor: Oh. If I had known this was about pro-Trump people, I never would have run it.
Me: It doesn't hurt to show both sides now and then.
Anchor: But I don't want the viewers thinking I'm pro-Trump.
Me: .....
14 Litres of Super-Turbocharged Madness
General | Posted 8 years agoOne of the subchannels at the new work is TBD, a network geared toward gamer geeks and the internet generation. Tabletop game reviews, MTG sessions and the whole thing is glued together with YouTube videos. Lots and lots of YouTube videos. You know... how to drift a sportbike, wingsuit runs and funky animations.
So when I looked up and saw a drift car snaking its way among containers in a shipping port, I almost didn't give it a second glance.
Almost.
Because behind the car, was a Freightliner semi tractor. With a wing. Drifting right along with the car. It... sort of got my attention.
What I was watching was Size Matters 2, and what I was seeing was Mike Ryan and his 2400hp Pike's Peak Freightliner Semi doing a stunt sequence around Long Beach Pier. I was absolutely mesmerized. I didn't know you could light up the tires on a semi, let alone four-wheel drift it! I love the big, smoky puffs from the exhaust as he's on and off throttle in the slalom between containers. Talk about your modern-day fire breathing dragon!
The original Size Matters is a little more straightforward gymkhana course, but still awesome. And if you want to see that monster in it's native element, look no further than Mike's Pike's Peak Run in 2013. It's spectacular in its own right.
So when I looked up and saw a drift car snaking its way among containers in a shipping port, I almost didn't give it a second glance.
Almost.
Because behind the car, was a Freightliner semi tractor. With a wing. Drifting right along with the car. It... sort of got my attention.
What I was watching was Size Matters 2, and what I was seeing was Mike Ryan and his 2400hp Pike's Peak Freightliner Semi doing a stunt sequence around Long Beach Pier. I was absolutely mesmerized. I didn't know you could light up the tires on a semi, let alone four-wheel drift it! I love the big, smoky puffs from the exhaust as he's on and off throttle in the slalom between containers. Talk about your modern-day fire breathing dragon!
The original Size Matters is a little more straightforward gymkhana course, but still awesome. And if you want to see that monster in it's native element, look no further than Mike's Pike's Peak Run in 2013. It's spectacular in its own right.
We'll always be remembered... we'll always be dismembered...
General | Posted 8 years agoDays of no horizon
Claustrophobia
Conditioned air
(Don't crash)
No flowers for you
(Don't crash)
And no regrets
Gushing waters
Forcing it down
Days star's final flicker urging on the break of dawn
(Stand fast)
Voices screech below
(Stand fast)
No clemency
Panic stricken faces
Diving further down into hell
(Don't crash)
No flowers for you
(Don't crash)
And no regrets
Timeless terror is taking over
Throbbing hearts and restless bones and melted into one
(Stand fast)
Voices screech below
(Stand fast)
No clemency
Breath slowly fading
Partly anger and partly stress
(Stand fast)
Air is sparse below
(Stand fast)
No clemency
Been detected
Losing power
Deeper down we grovel on our sweating bending knees
(Don't crash)
No flowers for you
(Don't crash)
And no regrets
Last moment cries on the radio
It's so hot down here
Crushing metal bloody waters
Same faces everywhere
Now the anger is fading
Now the fight can't go on
We'll always be remembered
We'll always be dismembered
Now the anger is fading
Now the fight can't go on
We'll always be remembered
We'll always be dismembered
Days of no horizon
Claustrophobia
Conditioned air
(Don't crash)
No flowers for you
(Don't crash)
And no regrets
Gushing waters
Forcing it down
Days star's final flicker urging on the break of dawn
(Stand fast)
Voices screech below
(Stand fast)
No clemencySeven-oh-two on the same day, Your bare feet on the parquet
General | Posted 8 years agoMoonlight through the chicken wire, humming windowpane,
Lukewarm water gasping down a rusty drain
Big town's in need of mending, street lights make toothsome seams
Denim shadows shuffle in between the beams.
Different strokes for different folks so
Mind your manners and easy on the ethnic jokes
It's a dumbbell curve, your trying to tally,
All the way down to shinbone alley
Streets are metacarpals, flesh of asphalt calm
Buildings rise like fingers from a concrete palm
Yellow lit apartments trickle through the drapes
Windows frame each history hidden even from the fire escapes
Sullen winter sparrow lends wing to expanse of grey
Six-thirty-two in the morning on Thanksgivings day
And the bums they hit their corners, the Thunderbird rots their bones
And the crack addicts stare at the snowflakes zigzagging down to greet jones
Different strokes for different folks so
Mind your manners and easy on the ethnic jokes
It's a dumbbell curve, your trying to tally,
All the way down to shinbone alley
Seven-oh-two on the same day, your bare feet on the parquet
And the light so papery white shining past the microwave
Knuckles to eyeballs and elbows on the table
Spend the day gazing from the window gable
Different strokes for different folks so
Mind your manners and easy on the ethnic jokes
It's a dumbbell curve, your trying to tally,
All the way down to shinbone alley
You know how I tend to feel when nothing's happening
Like some big old bird so fat that they just can't fly
Far be it for me to be overreacting
My body hurts like hell and all I can do is wonder why
Like a man in prison, I'm occupied with busting out
I'm in no position, said "What are these walking blues about?"
Hey Mary come play with me, please forget your lessons?
Pete's off with Captain Hook and with cutlasses they play
I got a feeling you and me, we'll get along fine
Down on the beach in the fresh air with a jug of wine
Like a man in prison I'm occupied with busting out
I'm in no position, said, "What are these walking blues about?
Aww yeah, I claim to be infected
Aww yeah point me in the right direction
The situation, it's got the best of me
I gotta go on, you know, I gotta be strong
But it's hard to exist
Hey Mary come play with me, please forget your lessons?
Pete's off with Captain Hook and with cutlasses they play
I got a feeling you and me, we'll get along fine
Down on the beach in the fresh air with a jug of wine
Like a man in prison I'm occupied with busting out
I'm in no position, said, "What are these walking blues about?"
Hard to exist
Hard to exist
Hard to exist
Hard to exist
Hard to exist
I said it's hard, hard to exist
I said it's hard, hard to exist
I said it's hard, hard to exist
Hard to existIt Leads You Here Despite Your Destination
General | Posted 8 years agoSometimes when this place gets kind of empty
Sound of their breath fades with the light
I think about the loveless fascination
Under the Milky Way tonight
Lower the curtain down in Memphis
Lower the curtain down all right
I got no time for private consultation
Under the Milky Way tonight
Wish I knew what you were looking for
Might have known what you would find
And it's something quite peculiar
Something that's shimmering and white
It leads you here despite your destination
Under the Milky Way tonight
Wish I knew what you were looking for
Might have known what you would find
Wish I knew what you were looking for
Might have known what you would find
And it's something quite peculiar
Something that's shimmering and white
It leads you here despite your destination
Under the Milky Way tonight
Wish I knew what you were looking for
Might have known what you would find
Wish I knew what you were looking for
Might have known what you would find
Under the Milky Way tonight
Under the Milky Way tonight
Under the Milky Way tonightLit Up Like a Firefly Just to Feel The Living Night
General | Posted 8 years agoSprawling on the fringes of the city
In geometric order
An insulated border
In between the bright lights
And the far unlit unknown
Growing up it all seems so one-sided
Opinions all provided
The future pre-decided
Detached and subdivided
In the mass production zone
Nowhere is the dreamer or the misfit so alone
(Subdivisions)
In the high school halls
In the shopping malls
Conform or be cast out
(Subdivisions)
In the basement bars
In the backs of cars
Be cool or be cast out
Any escape might help to smooth the unattractive truth
But the suburbs have no charms to soothe the restless dreams of youth
Drawn like moths we drift into the city
The timeless old attraction
Cruising for the action
Lit up like a firefly
Just to feel the living night
Some will sell their dreams for small desires
Or lose the race to rats
Get caught in ticking traps
And start to dream of somewhere
To relax their restless flight
Somewhere out of a memory of lighted streets on quiet nights...
(Subdivisions)
In the high school halls
In the shopping malls
Conform or be cast out
(Subdivisions)
In the basement bars
In the backs of cars
Be cool or be cast out
Any escape might help to smooth the unattractive truth
But the suburbs have no charms to soothe the restless dreams of youthAll I Know is Guilt for Being Different
General | Posted 8 years agoAnd every morning comes too soon
All your nights are sleepless
Poison arrows
(To ruin your tomorrows)
Below suspicion
Cafes full of people dressed as spies
And all I know
(Is guilt for being different)
It's always raining stones
(There's a killer in the home)
In a small town
Everybody looks the same
(There are unwritten rules)
(Unspoken words)
Should I pack my fear and go?
I have to leave somehow
Before they run me out of town
I have to leave somehow
And every morning comes too soon
(All your nights are sleepless)
Poison arrows
To ruin your tomorrows
(There are unwritten rules)
(Unspoken words)
Should I pack my fear and go?
I have to leave somehow
Before they run me out of town
I have to leave somehow
I have to leave somehow
Before they run me out of town
I have to leave somehow
I have to leave somehow
Before they run me out of town
I have to leave somehow
I have to leave somehow
Before they run me out of town
I have to leave somehow
(Please sir, I want some more)Job Rewards
General | Posted 8 years ago"I'm no fan of unions but they played it straight: if you're going to sacrifice your whole life and lower back for the benefit of a faceless corporation then you've got to get paid. But young, aspirational women can be convinced that working longer, 'a seat at the table', 'promotions' to management-- these are worthy goals: [Sheryl] Sandberg said so.
Just because my posts have lots of typos doesn't mean I'm lazy. I am not saying not to work hard, I am not saying not to run out the clock, I'm saying it has to be meaningful, it has to lead somewhere, it has to be for something, and if it doesn't then at least it has to pay."
Just because my posts have lots of typos doesn't mean I'm lazy. I am not saying not to work hard, I am not saying not to run out the clock, I'm saying it has to be meaningful, it has to lead somewhere, it has to be for something, and if it doesn't then at least it has to pay."
- Don't Hate Her Because She's Successful
The Last Psychiatrist
March 22, 2013The Game Changer
General | Posted 8 years agoY'ever kinda watch a TV series, maybe with a passing interest? And then suddenly you watch an episode that makes you literally say "Whoaa!" and totally changes your perspective of the show?
I enjoy "The Amazing World of Gumball" quite a lot. I think it's unique in that it's a multimedia universe. Gumball and family are traditional cel animation, the next door neighbors are felt puppets... some kids at school are paper cutouts, others are CGI. There's an 8-bit pixel spider, and even food! Talk about your diversity, this is on a whole 'nother level!
I liked the show enough to stop and watch when I would stumble over it, but never enough to seek it out and watch regularly. Then I saw "The Shell".
Whoa. You know, I always thought Penny was cute. Who knew she was awesome too?
I remember the same thing happening in Fullmetal Alchemist. I'd sorta pay attention to it during my overnight weekend shift at KFI. And then I saw the episode where the antagonists create doubt in Alphonse's mind that he was ever a real boy. Alphonse has a genuine crisis about if he was ever real or just a construct that Edward cast into existence. Personally, I love that kind of stuff about existence and how could you ever trust your own internal perspective (see "Dark City"). It made me sit up and take more notice of the series.
I enjoy "The Amazing World of Gumball" quite a lot. I think it's unique in that it's a multimedia universe. Gumball and family are traditional cel animation, the next door neighbors are felt puppets... some kids at school are paper cutouts, others are CGI. There's an 8-bit pixel spider, and even food! Talk about your diversity, this is on a whole 'nother level!
I liked the show enough to stop and watch when I would stumble over it, but never enough to seek it out and watch regularly. Then I saw "The Shell".
Whoa. You know, I always thought Penny was cute. Who knew she was awesome too?
I remember the same thing happening in Fullmetal Alchemist. I'd sorta pay attention to it during my overnight weekend shift at KFI. And then I saw the episode where the antagonists create doubt in Alphonse's mind that he was ever a real boy. Alphonse has a genuine crisis about if he was ever real or just a construct that Edward cast into existence. Personally, I love that kind of stuff about existence and how could you ever trust your own internal perspective (see "Dark City"). It made me sit up and take more notice of the series.
God save those born to die
General | Posted 8 years agoA waking world of innocence
So grave those first born cries
When life begins with needles and pins
It ends with Swords and Knives
Oh dangerman, oh dangerman
Your blade fits like a glove
When forged in steel
Time cannot heal
That blood red bond of love
In times of trouble you're an open book
With the change in the way you look
And its sad love's not enough to make things better
Turn the tables, we'll burn the fables
Lies beneath the visions and daydreams
Fooled by now, we mystify the past
Like a dream, like it never happened
When life begins with needles and pins
It ends with Swords and Knives
God save those born to dieI live in fear of the things I desire...
General | Posted 8 years agoShadows slowly rotating
Generating a vista of heavenly night
Figures falling together at last
In relief, on the bare walls and doors
My delicious confusion
The solution; journey with no end in sight
Desecrated by angels and men
Bodies linger in the morning light
I live in fear
Of the things I desire
I should surrender
To the terrible wonderful world that lies...
Before me
In this other dimension
I feel tension, surrounding my every move
You and I are together at last
We're enslaved in our own universe
And I count the years
Till the end of my days
And I'm looking back
On a life that's so sweet, that it's only complete
With your face
Before me
I've never been the type to find
That anyone could make me lose my mind
This dark matter's haunting me
Perhaps I'll never find out why...
There's a secret I must know
I just have to know why...
I'll search every day
[I will search everywhere]
Every hour, minute, second
[Mmm]
I have to find a way
[I just wanna know why]
To the secret of this dark matter
[I'll ask everyone]
I'll ask everyone
[Boy, girl and child]
Every boy, girl and child
I can't rest until
I have the secret of this dark matter
[Dark matter]
I just have to know why...
Why...
I'll search every day
[I'll search everyday]
Every hour, minute, second
[Yes I will]
I have to find a way
To the secret of this dark matter
I'll ask everyone
[I just have to know why]
Every boy, girl and child
[I have to find out why]
I can't rest until
I have the secret of this dark matter
I'll never rest till it stops...Soldier boy, soldier on...
General | Posted 8 years agoI loved the world when we were poor,
when winter banged on summer’s door.
And pain was april rain upon my skin.
I sheltered as each friend was tamed
and shackled by the wedding game.
Now life has left this stain upon my skin.
Soldier boy, soldier on
Your eyes are cold and the spark has gone.
My blackest days were bandaged white
I prayed upon my darkest night,
And bible dreams the lives of former whores.
I slept beside this angry calm,
kept faith alive and far from harm.
Torn I’ve lived, I’ll die a boy stillborn.
Soldier boy, soldier on
Your eyes are cold and the spark has gone.
They’ve chosen you to bear the stain
But God has left this world bereft and the scars remain.
The scars remain.
Soldier boy, soldier on
Your eyes are cold and the spark has gone.
They’ve chosen you to bear the stain
But God has left this world bereft and the scars remain.
The scars remain.Have You Lost Your Will to Speak?
General | Posted 8 years agoWas it loneliness that brought you here
Broken and weak?
Was it tiredness that made you sleep?
Have you lost your will to speak?
Was the earth spinning round
Were you falling through the ground
As the world came tumbling down
You prayed to God, "What have we done?"
Free me from these chains I need to change my way
Heal these broken wings I need to fly far away, far away, far away
Was it emptiness that made you weep?
No more secrets to keep.
Was it bitterness that gave you time
To forgive your sins
Was the earth spinning round
Were you falling through the ground
As the world came tumbling down
You prayed to God, "What have we done?"
Free me from these chains I need to change my way
Heal these broken wings I need to fly far away
Free me from these thoughts long forgotten down below
Take these angel's words give them life to carry on, carry on, carry on
Free me from these chains...Drained and Blue, I Bleed for You
General | Posted 8 years agoIt's alright
There comes a time
Got no patience
To search for peace of mind
Layin' low
Want to take it slow
No more hiding or
Disguising truths I've sold
Everyday it's something
Hits me all so cold
Find me sittin' by myself
No excuses, then I know
It's okay
Had a bad day
Hands are bruised
From breaking rocks all day
Drained and blue
I bleed for you
You think it's funny, well
You're drowning in it too
Everyday it's something
Hits me all so cold
Find me sittin' by myself
No excuses, then I know
Yeah, it's fine
We'll walk down the line
Leave our rain
A cold trade for warm sunshine
You my friend
I will defend
And if we change, well I
Love you anyway
Everyday it's something
Hits me all so cold
Find me sittin' by myself
No excuses, then I know
Never Tell Me the Odds!
General | Posted 8 years agoWe're all familiar with Roulette, right? The big wheel with numbers, the little white ball and the big table full of spots to place your chips on. The wheel spins, the ball rolls, lands in a slot and the winners and losers are sorted out. There are so many different ways to bet... on single numbers, straddling the line between two numbers, in an intersection of four numbers... evens, odds, black, red...
Thing about the odds in Roulette is that they come out perfectly matched. 36 numbers, a direct bet on a single number pays 36:1. First/Second/Third or vertical columns pay 3:1. Even/Odd or Black/White pay 2:1. Everywhere on the table, if you bet on everything in a group, you'd always win, but you'd always break even. Sounds like the odds are pretty balanced.
But of course the house wouldn't play the game if the odds weren't skewed even slightly in their favor. How do they do it? With 0 and 00. Those two outcomes defy everything on the table. 0 and 00 are not odd or even. They're not red or black (they're green). They don't fit any of the ranges (1-18/19-36 or 1-12/13-24/25-36). They're not a part of any of the vertical columns (they perch on top between them). The only way 0 and 00 pay is if you directly bet on them.
And so because there are two outcomes that do not pay out the standard odds, this tilts the table in favor of the house. Because when 0 and 00 come up, everything else on the table loses. That means the odds of hitting a number directly aren't 1 in 36, they're actually 1 in 38... And the odds of hitting Odd/Even aren't 1 in 2 (50%), they're 18 in 38 (about 47%)
Incidentally 0 and 00 pay 50:1. So if you do hit them, it's the only payback that is better than its odds of coming up.
Thing about the odds in Roulette is that they come out perfectly matched. 36 numbers, a direct bet on a single number pays 36:1. First/Second/Third or vertical columns pay 3:1. Even/Odd or Black/White pay 2:1. Everywhere on the table, if you bet on everything in a group, you'd always win, but you'd always break even. Sounds like the odds are pretty balanced.
But of course the house wouldn't play the game if the odds weren't skewed even slightly in their favor. How do they do it? With 0 and 00. Those two outcomes defy everything on the table. 0 and 00 are not odd or even. They're not red or black (they're green). They don't fit any of the ranges (1-18/19-36 or 1-12/13-24/25-36). They're not a part of any of the vertical columns (they perch on top between them). The only way 0 and 00 pay is if you directly bet on them.
And so because there are two outcomes that do not pay out the standard odds, this tilts the table in favor of the house. Because when 0 and 00 come up, everything else on the table loses. That means the odds of hitting a number directly aren't 1 in 36, they're actually 1 in 38... And the odds of hitting Odd/Even aren't 1 in 2 (50%), they're 18 in 38 (about 47%)
Incidentally 0 and 00 pay 50:1. So if you do hit them, it's the only payback that is better than its odds of coming up.
