Smarts is dumber.

After watching both The Darjeeling Limited and Juno I have to think, perhaps words just aren’t the best way to express yourself. So much can be said in a look, or a swagger, or any old motion that it’s hard to imagine that it’s even worth trying to capture those expressions with text. Since I’m looking to become a writer I would say that it should be a tad bit concerning that I feel this way but frankly it’s not at all. Maybe it’s because I’ve never read anything that can capture that sort of life; this of course means one thing. I WILL WRITE REVIEWS.

Titles are for titling, ha, titling.

I’ve got a short story here for you persons and I sincerely hope enjoyment is had. This one is based on the events of one evening a couple weeks back and is of a… deceiving perspective. Also it contains SOME offensive language, if you really want it removed let me know.

“Let’s do this marines!” our squad leader Gideon shouted. It was those Al-Asad bastards again, this time they’d apparently set up an installment in some quaint Iranian town, but after hearing that we were sending a regiment they had picked up some heavy duty explosives and planned to raze the town. Our squad was there to get the explosives and make the insurgents leave; but it wasn’t going to be as easy as “May we have the bomb please, oh and could you leave while you’re at it?” We come in from the far Southwest of the town, by some tall apartment buildings. Corey to my left and Vince to my right, I headed due East; heading them off before they could leave the markets seemed like the best plan. Meanwhile Gid took Ronald and his boys North, they’d take cover in a building that overlooked the town square and provide sniper support for Tim’s charge. Only a few seconds in and already we heard the first brass hit the pavement, and this wasn’t just some coon with an old Soviet rifle either; this guy had an RPD. I’d know the sound anywhere, it’s like a helicopter taking off next to your ear. I hauled ass around the corner of a florist’s shop, maybe I could get around this guy and take him down before he did any significant damage. Then we got message, Reyez was down; three to the chest. “Shit! Where’s our sniper support?!” Tim screamed above the deafening cracks of gunfire. “…I’ve got him.” said Ron’s calm voice. SLAM. Another peacemaker I can know by ear, that was a Barret. The machine gun dropped harmlessly to the pavement, making ripples in the puddle of blood that was starting to well. Gideon brought me back, “They’re coming around from the Northeast, catch ‘em before they’re in the square.” There was only one entrance to the Northeast, and I was facing straight down the avenue that intersected it. I took cover behind an old Volks and flicked off the safety. Once I brought my eye to the scope, everything else disappeared. Complete, total silence overtook me, the only sound I could hear was my rasping breath. “Iran’s pretty nice this time of year huh?” James was always the class clown, and even in the heat of battle (literally) he was no different. “Well, it’s no L.A.” I retorted; and then I was back in my own world. An odd way to pass the time between blowing coon’s brains out I guess, but it brought me down and now I was ready for the mission. No more pounding heart, no more rasping breath, no more radio chatter, now it was me and the guy down the block who thinks he’s real goddamn clever leaning around that palm tree. Deep breath, hold it, take aim, spit half of it out and… ding. The casing bounces one, two, three times; the corpse at the end of the block doesn’t. And that’s the fatal blow, they’re over now, they’re afraid. One more tries to make a dash, but we were waiting for him. I was taught in physics that an object in motion will stay in motion, war has proven this true time and time again. His feet slide out under him as the weight of his own torso carries him to the ground, but he goes forward a few more feet and his helmeted head scrapes to the other side of the gate. Vince chuckled, “Hahahaha, looks like the rat made it after all!” He makes me sick, and I suppress a gag. The rest of the afternoon is just clean up, the next guy we take down has the explosives and the last two are hiding out in the market. As we leave Vince and Ronald start listing off their respective favorite kills again. I don’t wonder why I’m in this war, I just wonder why I’m still standing; I’m not ruthless like Gideon, or twisted like Vince. I’m a paper-pusher, but maybe that’s what keeps me going. Or maybe I’m just biding my time until I get the raw end of a lead makeover.

Urban Penguins: A National Crisis

What, you might ask, do four juniors do when they’ve exhausted all possible avenues for entertainment during their first free of the day? The answer is they grab a video camera from their local librarian, they dress one of their own up in a multitude of outerwear and they film whatever waddling-related carnage that ensues. God help us all; I think we’ve made a masterpiece.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HFpmGmIA6Pg&feature=user

That is probably the best preview of things to come. This is probably going to be an on-going project. Look forward to more in the future. We are called “Urban Penguin Productions”.

English Has Put A Spell On Me

I realized something today as I was sitting up at one in the morning listening to different variations of the classic song “I put a spell on you” for english homework. I was enjoying doing homework. Congratulations Ms. M, you have officially broken school for me; I hope you’re pleased with yourself.

SA, Let’s Play!

For those of you who aren’t familiar with the acronym “SA” it stands for something awful. And no, I don’t mean Sodomy for Anuses, I mean it quite literally stands for Something Awful; as in www.somethingawful.com or the probably more infamous forums.somethingawful.com. In the post I’m going to completely ignore the majority of this forum and focus specifically one one of many subforums (I know, this is complicated internet lingo, bear with me). The subforum I’ll be talking about is called the “Let’s Play” subforum, and I’d like to think it’s a part of the forums that has created a subculture (:O) of it’s own.

The Let’s Play subforum is located deep within the dark, dreary bowels of the Games forum and should be considered the surprisingly handsome child of a horrible, twisted creature. On to the semantics, the Let’s Play subforum is a place entirely dedicated to a very peculiar art form, the practice of recording oneself playing video games. Alright, it may sound a bit strange, but hear me out; it’s absolutely phenomenal. The idea is that the “player” or the “poster” of the LP (Let’s Play) chooses a game from any gaming console they can get their filthy hands on (as long as they have a viable method of recording their progress with that system) and then plays the game. Here’s where the tricky part comes in, while that individual is playing through that video game they simultaneously track their progress somehow; be it through text, picture, or video format. The player then posts their progress* on the forum in a thread (for those of you unfamiliar with the wonderful language of the web a “thread” is essentially a topic post which can then be added onto with replies) and allows other members of the subforum to read and comment on their playing.

There are however, as with all good things, some rules to be followed. One of the more important rules is that which determines, and limits, the games that an LPer (the “player” mentioned earlier) can record. The two prominent rules regarding the games are these: the game must be at least 6 months old before it is LPable (as this will quell both spoilers for those who are currently playing the game and the hype period in which everyone and their grandmother will want to be the author the thread of the new and exciting game), and the game should not be adult-oriented (although there have been a few exceptions). There are a few other rules, but those mostly regard things very specific to the forum and it would do you no good to read them here.

So, why do these brave souls take put their lives on the line and foray into the virtual unknown, tracing their every step as they do? Why do they risk failure, humiliation, and more importantly (not to mention more often) the risk of playing a terrible, boring, tedious video game? They do it purely for the entertainment of those who choose to view their LP. These men and women are heroes, and this post is here to recognize their great sacrifice in the name of our amusement. Thank you LPers, and keep on trucking.

*Usually with some form of commentary, and this commentary can vary drastically from satirical objectivity to a first-person account of the events from the eyes of a certain character within the game.

(SomethingAwful is a forum which requires a one time PAYMENT to be a member; otherwise the forums will be ad infested during your visit, regardless here is the LP subforum link; enjoy. http://forums.somethingawful.com/forumdisplay.php?forumid=191 )