Falling for comics...again

I just finished reading the second volume of Chronicles of Conan and came to the realization that I'm in to comics again. The last time I fell for comic books was in 10th grade with number of different top cow offerings (Darkness, Witchblade and others), before that it was middle school and spiderman and before that superman in elementary school. I have been dabbling in independent comic books for two to three years now, most notably Becky Cloonan's work. Nothing that stuck to the ribs like a good barbarian in Hyborian Age story though.

I always loved watching Ah Ah Ah Arnold as Conan when I was growing up and whenever I catch one of the three movies on a lazy Sunday I will still sit transfixed with glee. I never knew how much much history the character and story had though. Robert E. Howard was a bad ass! His stories were ahead of his time, he palled around with H.P. Lovecraft and he influenced multiple generations of storytellers beyond his own life.

Chronicles of Conan is not Robert's writing however, though it is obviously his character and influence that drive the series. The comics collected in CoC were originally created in the 1970's by Marvel written by Roy Thomas and illustrated by Barry Windsor-Smith). The writing is hands down some of the best work I have ever seen in a comic. The art is better than most older comics I have seen and sometimes down right breath taking.

So where to go from here? I have a lot of Chronicles to read still and after that I am hoping to explore what is current on the comic scene, although I won't discount older comics any longer after the joy that Conan has brought me.

BioShock or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying...

...and love the console.

I've been puffing my chest for PC gaming advocacy for years now. With only occasional dips in the console creek. I purchased an Xbox 360 for my birthday last September in what I would consider a weaker moment. The system usually collected dust outside of Gears of War and Crackdown. I beat and sold both within 3-4 weeks of purchase, they both had good single player elements, but nothing that truly grabbed me. They really shinned at cooperative play (co-op) and would have gone back to the store a lot sooner without it. Live has its merits, but only talking to one person at a time, outside of the game I'm playing, seems like a step backwards when compared to VoIP applications on the PC.

My slow slide towards the console starts with high quality single player games in high definition. This past Wednesday was the first time I purchased a first person shooter for a console since GoldenEye 007 for the Nintendo 64 (ten years ago). BioShock is the game that broke my video game console's back I'm afraid.

This game would look jaw dropping on a 15 inch CRT, let alone 50 inches in high def widescreen. Of course it is a raw numbers game, there are a lot of pixels and polys on the screen working over time, but art direction really ties it all together. The game play is engaging, there is a real survivor element to managing ammo and powers. There is five different ways to approach every fight and none of the them is necessarily the right one. Catch an enemy on fire and they will make for the closest water source (if one is available), when they dive in to put out the flames electrify the water to finish them (wow that sounds violent when I write it).

Ultimately the story is what really sinks in the hook. It is told through found recordings of small cast of characters and direct contact via in game radio. There is a slow progression to insanity that really heightens the experience. When you eventually get to fight against or interact with one of the characters it seems like you already know them or at the very least know their motivation. When I do actively think about what is going on in the game, it seems odd that everyone in this underwater paradise would record audio journals and leave them strewn about the world. It is a product of the game play though, the story is slowly trickled out to the player, keeping them transfixed.

To sum up, this is the first game that truly feels "next gen" in its approach to game play, graphics and story telling. This game is art, no ifs, ands or buts about it. Roger Ebert can bend over and kiss his hind parts as far as I'm concerned.

Ugh, I know another post about video games (doesn't he have another blog about games), two in fact. I promise no more after this one, well not directly, but man oh man this game is gripping.

The Governator is a Hypocranator

In the words of one of my bestest internet friends Christopher Ng (The Chort) "You change!". In this case it would be "You change Arnold Schwarchenegger! You change!".

Arnold is the star of many a classic action film that I grew up watching. His million bad guy killing sprees and cheesy one liners are ingrained in my youth.

"Let off some steam, Bennett."

Arnold just killed a chain mail vested, out of shape, kidnapper/old army buddy gone bad with a pipe through the torso and steam came pouring out of the pipe! How bad ass is that? Really freaking bad ass, that's how bad ass! Forty minutes ago my best friend in 5th grade was pausing the VHS and kissing the screen during the one obligatory 80's nude scene. Fifteen years ago that was my favorite movie and Arnold could do no wrong. I grew up watching Terminator, Predator and the above mentioned Commando. To a lesser extent Arnold's early and late 90's work was worth watching too. Terminator 2 being the exception of course, as it is still one of my favorite movies of all time and one of the only sequels that was better than its original.

So what happened? The action hero of the 80's and 90's, who made his career on killing bad dudes, got elected as governor of California. Great people in California are kind of crazy and who doesn't love an immigrant living the American dream story. If Predator is any litmus test, anyone from a great 80's action movies can be a governor. Start putting together campaign contributions Carl Weathers! All fine and good, well not really, but hell what do I care California is really far away.

One topic that does hit home however is violent video game laws. The governator has plans to appeal a court decision that would allow minors to purchase violent and graphic games. Apparently Arnold has acute amnesia. The man built his career and ultimate election on a hill of violent movies and even violent movie video game tie ins. Regardless of the 1st Amendment implications, the governator is trying to slap the hand of the video game industry with his right, while holding the hand of Hollywood with his left. This is not an article about violence in video games, how parents should raise their kids or even censorship and its merits or lack there of. It is about the double standard. Hollywood's fascination with torture porn flicks (Saw and others) goes unnoticed while California and other states ratchet up the pressure on the video game industry and retailers.

Violent video games are a scape goat and politicians who try to string them up are just catering to the media and a media perceived sense of the greater good. Parent's don't let your children view any media (books, games, tv, etc) that you deem inappropriate, its your job not the governments. At the end of the day I enjoy a good violent movie or video game and I will still scream out "get to da choppa" on bike rides, but the Governator has lost the little respect I never even had for him. I know this isn't as dire a topic as Mehtul's and ultimately Kent's most recent writings, but its another topic that is on my radar and I thought I should share.

Photos from the beach

Photos from the beach as promised...Full Album Click Here!

Group shot

Crystal and I

Dinner

Snake in the pool

Full Album Click Here

Good times! I am already looking forward to next years trip, only 51 weeks to go.

I was at the beach

No, I didn't stop blogging, I was at the Outer Banks for the past week. Every year for more years than I can remember (my cousin Phil swears its 20, but we decided he is bad at math) we have been going down to the Outer Banks.

It all started before I was born, my parents used to go down to Corolla with their friends before it was the suburbanite love fest that it is today. It used to be a forest with one store. You would stop at said store and pick up your supplies for the week, then take a vehicle with four wheel drive and ride on the beach to get to a house hidden in the dunes. I'm told that when they had me I went too, but I was too young to remember.

At some point the family friends sold their house in the dunes and we stopped going. Our family picked back up again when I was eight or nine. We rented a house on the sound side (my brother called it "the noise" because he was cute and three or four years old) in Duck. We crabbed with boneless skinless chicken breast off the dock by our house and packed up the van for extended stays at the beach (it was far away). A few years later we moved across the street to the ocean side, but still in Duck. Our house was still a haul to the beach, but not completely unreasonable so we spent more time at the beach, but in smaller chunks of time. Phil jumped on cactus's, we learned to water ski, we took an air boat tour and I bungee jumped from a 150 foot crane.

Duck was getting too crowded so we started renting further north in Corolla. Phil destroyed himself jumping over a trash can on roller blades, we para sailed, jet skied and watched some one drinking a gallon of whole milk in just under an hour without throwing up. Impressive to say the least. Corolla eventually become just as crowded as Duck and our options further north included the four wheel drive trek I mentioned earlier. So we have rented in Corolla ever since, it is less compact then Duck so it never feels too claustrophobic.

After what I'm guessing has been sixteen years of going to the Outer Banks, I finally feel like I truly appreciate it. It was nice to take a vacation from my vacation when I was in grade school and then college, but to take a vacation from a busy year of working is the cat's pajamas. I used to go down to the beach with all kinds of plans (see: bungee, ski, ski, boat, sail, etc), but for the past two years my plan was to have no plan. I took a lot of naps this year, passed on shopping and jet skis and drank far to much beer and Jack Daniels. We couldn't bring our bikes (car was jam packed) so riding on Ocracoke was out and I just couldn't bring myself to jog when the pool needed lounging by.

Now its back to work, eating healthy and exercise. I can't say that I'm excited to be back, but it is nice to get my batteries recharged once a year. I am planning to have pictures up on my gallery tonight and I will share them here tomorrow morning.

Added Some Stuff

I recently added some new links to the right hand side of the site and also added a section to show my diggs. The Digg portion is pretty self explanatory (stories I found interesting) and the new links are more sites that I visit on a daily basis.

Sherdog for comprehensive MMA news.

Kevin Rose's blog because I follow most everything he works on.

101 Cookbooks for a simple blog on tasty recipes.

Kent's Bike for Kent Peterson's thoughts and writings on cycling.

Go check them out!

Gelato for your soul

No, not like the "soup for the soul" where I give you a motivational speech about "your" self-esteem. Literally a trade of goods, not one, but two ice creams for the low low cost of your immortal soul. In June of 2005 Crystal and I entered in to holy matrimony. The next day we decided to throw what was left our our student loans into a dream honey moon to Italy. The keystone of our trip was gelato, we ate it everywhere we went, every day we were there and most of the time two to three times a day. Saying it was a staple would be selling it short, saying we lived for it would probably be more accurate.

It seems like every corner in Italy has a little Mom and Pop gelato store, they didn't charge much and it was all homemade tastiness. By the time we came to our our last day in Rome, we figured ourselves to be gelato vets. We had been eating tons of it everyday and had visited almost every shop in walking distance of our hotel. Walking in the streets below the spanish steps we decided it was yet again time for ice cream. Up until now we had avoided the big touristy shops and stuck to the low profile ones.

We decided to splurge and go to a shop on the main drag that looked like they were celebrating some sort of gelato revolution. Waffle cones, damn yeah! Little Italian flags and dyed decorative waffle cone biscuit things, you bet your ass! Pile it on! I could easily imagine a more extravagant serving of iced cream (gold leaf, bits of real diamond and such), but none that I have ever held in my hand. I imagined the price would be a little higher (as it was not listed) than the standard price we had been paying. Two to three euros for the run of the mill two scopes down the corner, so about five to six euros or close to it for a waffle cone and some frill?

Right? Wrong, when we got to the register the clerk announced the cost of forty euros. For ice cream? Maybe there was diamonds in it or possibly the blood of some endangered bird was used to dye the decorative biscuits? Crystal jerked her arm out toward the clerk like an ice cream spear of Sparta, while informing them that she would not pay their gelato dowry. I, the cautious travel experienced husband, imagined an escalated situation in which the Italian police were brought in to sort things out. Beretta sub machine gun and lack of the English language in hand. So I decided to inventory our cash. All the while Crystal remained steadfast in her refusal to pay and the clerk continued to reassure Crystal that it was a "special cone".

While I was adding up the money we had with us, the clerk was doing the same. She must have spotted thirty, because a moment later that was the new price she offered. My exact words to the clerk after she offered the new amount were "thirty?". Please take note of the "?" as it was the emphasis for me, but not for the clerk. Apparently this was confirmation enough for her, not the question I had meant it to be, she reached across the counter and grabbed the money out of my wallet. Transaction complete. Any attempts to reason or argue with the clerk were now meet with "no English", while her hands proclaimed innocence in the air.

In the words of Willy Wonka, "You lose! Good day sir!", except in this case I couldn't get all Grandpa Joe up in it, because this Willy Wonka only spoke Italian. We took it as a life lesson learned and walked away, embarrassed and short thirty euros. Oh and the salt in the wound, the gelato wasn't even that good, we had much better, for tons cheaper, on many other occasions.

Ahhhhh.....

These ninjas are dueling to the death with guitars, just thought I'd share!

Faux Spinning

It might sound impressive to say that I have been riding 2 to 3 nights a week since March. I guess it also sounds impressive to most people when they hear I build computers too. In both cases your since of wow should be blunted a bit. Please put away the confetti. One, building computers is easy, plug it all in and turn on, for the most part. Two, almost all of those rides were in the gym on an exercise bike, sad I know, but true.

No wind in my hair, what little there is. No song birds a singing and certainly no fields of corn to look upon or city streets to marvel at. Just 35-45 minutes of pain, boredom and Aesop Rock. Apart from the music, gym riding is the bane of this young fellows very existence. Chalk it up to any number of excuses, but riding in the gym is just plain convenient. If I want to get in dinner, hang out time with the wife, video games and a ride (or some form of exercise), then something has to give. Said "something" is my time on an actual saddle unfortunately.

Now that Crystal has left the women's communist party of exercise and joined me and the rest of the free world at the YMCA, it is even easier to just hit the gym. The heat is a nice scapegoat too, but to pretend that I am so busy that I can't find time for my two wheeled friend is a joke. I miss spinning down the road, but I also miss going out with my friends on their two wheeled friends.

Tonight there is a planned ride from la castle de brick and I can't go, too busy (dinner out with another couple and family in town), and I'm crushed. One missed ride does not a week of excuses make though. I am planning to bring my bike to beach next week. Apart from rides from our rental (house), I am hoping Crystal and I can catch the ferry from Hatteras to Ocracoke and spin through some beautiful sites. Two wheeled wishes and saddle soared dreams friends, wishes and dreams indeed.

Update: The ride tonight was canceled, because it is as hot as the devil's armpit today.

Still Alive

And kicking, Hammer wasn't crazy and I still have all my vital organs. Catching up on two days of missed work is hard stuff. I expect I will try and catch up on five days of missed blogging in the coming week.

See yuns tomorrow.

LAN Party Saturday Night

Cookout Friday Night

Mehtul, Nino, Me, Hammer, Splinter

Update: Full gallery of photos from Hammer's trip.

Strangers on the Internets

At 10pm tonight I will be at the Richmond airport picking up a friend I have never meet.

I have been playing video games online with the same group of guys for going on three years now. We know all about each others personal lives, poke fun at each other and generally have a good time. All of the guys who live in Richmond, about eight including myself, get together for lunch on a regular basis. When a tournament was announced for the game we play competitively, we saw it as an opportunity to meet the rest of the team outside of in game voice chat. Plane tickets were purchased, carpools were planned and preparations were made. Then it got canceled.

War_Hammer or Doug, if your in to using real names and not game handles, still had a ticket purchased from Texas to Richmond. So we made a mad dash to plan a LAN party and cookout in his honor. He will be staying with Crystal and I tonight and tomorrow night and then with other members of our team till Sunday.

When relaying this story to some of the ladies at work I got concerned looks and questions.

"Do you have a gun for protection?"

"Your letting a guy you meet on the internet stay at your house?"

I guess the situation sounds bad when you try and explain it to people who see the internet as a place to send chain letter emails and watch dogs ride skateboards. We have built our own community, often share family photos and spend most evenings chatting with each other and playing games for hours on end. I know these guys, without having to be in there physical presence. We are friends.

After sharing my coworkers misplaced concerns with my internet friends (see that sounds bad) we all had a good laugh and made some morbid jokes at our own expense. Hammer let us know that his wife had also expressed some concern, you know, in case I'm the crazy one. I guess all this concern could be attributed to the news media and their rhetoric of fear, a la a Michael Moore stump speech. The internet is the tool of pornoholics, pedophiles and kidnappers as far as Nightline and other "hard" news programs are concerned. I guess I never thought of myself of living and interacting on "that" internet. I grew up using this here interslice and fancy myself one of its savvier users. Its a place to build friendships and have fun as far as I'm concernicus.

I look at Hammer's visit as an opportunity to hang with a good friend, not meeting a stranger for the first time. Tomorrow we will be tooling around Richmond hitting the civil war sites, grabbing lunch with the working stiffs and going bowling with the rest of the gang in the evening. Friday we are going down to Jamestown and Colonial Williamsburg and coming back to my house for a Guitar Hero, burgers and beer cookout. Saturday we will be host to Hammer LAN 07 and Sunday we may get out to Colonial Downs.