Bits For Rent

An amazing thing is happening right now in the world of consumer goods, though I’m sure almost everyone has seen or heard something about it by now. Companies are converging from all sides to fill gaps in product lines, thanks in large part to the creation of a few fantastic portable handheld devices in the past few years.

As I’m sure most of you can recall from just a few weeks ago, Apple was once again in the spotlight as it finally lifted the curtain on its long awaited tablet computer. Unfortunately, the device was not everything it the hype had claimed it would be: the device is large, thick, heavy, and lacks some very useful features such as an internal camera; its entry level price of $499 is also wildly outrageous with only a 16GB internal hard drive, and it does not include the almost-mandatory 3G feature (which will also run you at least $15/month to use). Furthermore, the reliance on the stripped down iPhone OS places the device in a precarious position. Now, it is not feature-rich enough to perform the same tasks as a $200 netbook–streaming Flash-based video, running multiple applications at the same time, using Office, etc.–and it is actually being handicapped by limitations that, on a 3.5″ iPhone or iPod screen, would seem perfectly reasonable.

Basically, by creating what many are simply referring to as a “big-screen iPhone,” Apple has filled a gap in its product line with something that is both easily replaceable (jumping to a MacBook or iPod touch) and utterly lacking in terms of iconic appeal. Whereas the slick aluminum casing of a MacBook or the glossy black shell of an iPhone immediately inform the user of what type of device it is they are handling, the mish-mash of aesthetics in the iPad is a sign of Apple’s own uncertainty as to whether this creation is more of a handheld (big glass screen accompanied by that one little Home button) or portable computer (aluminum casing on the back, keyboard attachments, etc.).

iPad: Digital Readers Face New Threat

Now, let me also say that this device is incredibly important for other reasons. First, it is attempting to unite several unrelated consumer markets under the Apple banner. Just as Apple used the iPod as a Trojan Horse for the iTunes store, so too is it attempting to use the iPad to enter a new market, eBooks. Now, until this point, the eBook market was easily divided into four parts: Google offered a wide selection of free books that have entered the public domain on its website and through other companies’ online stores; Sony, the first to actually enter the market, has its own store which it recently revamped to become more appealing and competitive; Barnes and Noble made a brave foray into the battle with its Nook reader last fall, and is seen as the strongest challenger to Amazon, who has controlled the eBook market with an iron fist thanks to its excellent Kindle reader and the easy-to-use, low-cost, ubiquitous Amazon.com eBook store.

What has occurred now, however, is something quite sinister. Eager to not make the same mistakes as the recording industry (but ultimately ignorant of the fact that all media will soon be digital and commoditization of entertainment is inevitable), the publishing world has, with Apple’s entry into the market, seen fit to give the dedicated eBook reader market the snub. At the same time as Apple was preparing to reveal its new wunderkind, Amazon and Macmillan, one of the largest publishing houses in the book world, were in a very public spat over the future of book prices. Basically, MacMillan wanted to raise the price of new release eBooks to be closer to those of the actual hardcover, since the hardcover book is where the company usually makes its money on a book release. Long story short, Amazon asked MacMillan to kindly go fuck itself (apologies for the language, dears) and pulled all Macmillan books from its store, and then a few days later doubled back on its stance and asked if the two could still be friends.

See, Amazon believed, like Apple once did, that $9.99 is the sweet spot for a new book to be priced at. But most publishers don’t care about that. They want to have discretionary pricing, somewhere between $12-17, to vary between books depending on how popular they are. Now, I know you got to this point and you’re thinking, “Great, dude, but seriously I couldn’t give two shits about book prices and company bickering. What does this have to do with me?” And you’re mostly right to be thinking that. But here’s the thing: while it’s important that we don’t sink the price to fast on the publishing industry and make the paperback the next CD, we also want to be able to sink prices for digital content, because everyone agrees that lack of a physical copy ultimately reduces the value of a good by a considerable margin. Especially since when you buy most things digitally nowadays you’re just buying a license to use that good, not the actually good itself. But that’s a whole different post about digital rights that I am not going to be writing. Let’s finish up with the books and then move on.

Bottom line: Amazon was trying to be the only game in town for publishers and consumers, much like Apple. It wanted exclusive or highly restrictive control of digital publishing rights to books, and it wanted to set the prices for the publishers. In other words, it was taking the pie and telling the publishers how many slices they could have. Now, thanks to the new agency model almost every major book publisher will be switching to (and that is being endorsed by Barnes & Noble as well as Apple), publishers can set prices wherever they want, and the seller will get a flat 30 or 35% cut from that selling price. This means that while prices may start high, we will actually be able to see classic economic theory play out here: the price will fall for a book and as it does the sales will increase. This gives maximum profitability to the book industry, and ultimately everyone wins. Sure, we consumers don’t profit as easily from it as before now that Amazon has lost its death grip on the market, but in the long run, provided you and I can wait a bit after a book comes out, you will still get a good price on that digital copy. Better yet, now it won’t come at the cost of bankrupting the businesses and authors you’re trying to support.

That’s it for me on eBooks for now. I actually don’t own one, but am very interested in the prospect. If you have one or know someone who does, I’d love to hear about it. Send me a line and tell me what your thoughts are. For now, though, if you’d like to read more on how pricing is hurting the book industry, I suggest this blog post as a good place to start.

What Lies in Between

I mentioned earlier that the iPad is important not for what it does well or does poorly, and there are certainly plenty of things that can be listed for both categories, but for what its affect will be on other devices. In the run up to the device’s announcement, we say several new tablet computers be revealed by Dell and HP. These are quite similar to the tablet in that they are touch-only slates, but where they actually surpass the iPad in terms of usability is that they run a fully functioning Windows OS. That means multitasking, Flash video (hello, Hulu!), Office, the works. Just as the iPhone brought out the heavy competition from Sony (Xperia), Google (Android OS and Nexus One phone), HTC (Windows and Android-based phones), Palm (Pre), and even BlackBerry (Storm and Storm 2), so too will the iPad bring with it a flurry of imitators and also-rans. Only this time, the also-rans have a chance to surpass the mighty Mac: they do not operate under the same self-imposed restrictions as Apple, who consciously limits the utility of its devices by denying certain features or applications from being run on it. This race for that middle market is actually the most competitive of all. For once, Apple’s prices and willful indifference may be its undoing. Which is all well and good.

See, as much as I love my MacBook Pro and my iPhone, I do believe that they’re too expensive and I do believe they could be better devices. If Apple wasn’t so concerned with preserving its brand value as well as its insane, 40% profit margins on everything it sells, it could be the most crushing company in the world. Instead, it opts to play the niche, exclusive supplier card, letting consumer interest and fervor boil up and over until we’re all champing at the bit, white froth foaming from our mouths, begging to given a chance to buy their product, no matter the price. Lucky us, eh?

I’ll leave with one more thought. The only reason any of the above things have occurred is because of the creation of the netbook market. These devices, little 8-10″ laptops that originally ran off of Linux or Windows XP and sell from $200-500, are now the biggest growth category in computer sales. In the late 1990s, we saw the rise and peak of the desktop PC. Nowadays, people don’t want to buy a big old box system that often because there are so many parts and its not portable; to use it, you become rooted to one spot. (Actually, this is why the iMac is such a brilliant device, but I won’t rant about Apple anymore today.) So then we moved down: desktop-replacement laptops with big old 15″ or 17″ screens came into vogue. They weren’t big on portability, but they did just about everything a desktop could do (other than play video games well, which is slowly changing). Then, about three years ago, the laptop market started to get saturated with cheap computers. Suddenly, a nice 13″ or 14″ laptop, perfect for web browsing, video viewing, and word processing, cost somewhere between $400 and $800. A 15″ MacBook Pro at that time still cost $2000, but it was eventually lowered to $1699. This was a critical time for computers. Dual core processors, cheap RAM, ever-increasing hard drive sizes… we were really hitting our stride back then and shifting the course of computer development from the push for making everything as fast as possible to making two or four or six of everything as fast as possible and as small as possible. Which is why we have the netbook. Using a small, energy efficient Intel chip called the Atom, these devices became the student’s and professional’s choice for on-the-go computing. With a USB 3G modem to gain access to AT&T, Sprint, or Verizon networks, a netbook transforms into exactly what an iPad is attempting to be: a large smartphone which enough screen space to actually get productive work done on it.

So while Steve Jobs is convinced that the netbook is a piece of garbage and that Apple will never make anything so small and uncomfortable and ugly, let the others sit back and laugh. The iPad has attempted to define where there in between actually lies, but that space is a dangerous one. Pressure from both sides may soon see the middle market flooded with an odd array of laptops and tablets and super netbook hybrids. As history has shown us, the computer world is never as cut and dry as it originally may seem, and I suspect that this market is where a great deal of innovation will soon be found. And as a consumer, I’ll be right there waiting to see what’s next.

There was a series of ads run when I was just entering grade school, all of which tried to drive home this one zany idea: reading is good for you. The ads, paid for by Reading is Fundamental, one of the oldest if not the oldest non-profit organizations in the country, usually featured a celebrity or athlete giving a short PSA about how important it is to read, and some other words of encouragement. While the impact of the campaign is hard to judge in retrospect, thinking back on it now makes me question just how much time children, teenagers, and even college students, spend reading.

Reading is Fundamental featuring Shaq

Granted, I come at this topic from a very biased perspective. Among my close friends, I can only name perhaps a handful that read at their own leisure. The rest will only pick up a book if it has a name like Dan Brown or Harry Potter on the cover. (Those I know reading this that are fans of Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight books, you don’t count because you are sparkly non-humans. Sorry.)

I, on the other hand, read voraciously. Not that I can crush a book in a few hours — I’m actually slow as hell — but I just find it to be an enjoyable experience. A good novel can be just as exciting to me as the latest LOST or Breaking Bad. Plus, I’m sort of a sponge when it comes to information; I’m willing to learn about almost anything, and a lot of the fun in reading a book or watching, say, the Discovery channel is learning about cool shit you would normally never have noticed.

So why is it that the newspaper industry is withering into a frail, forgotten relic of the past and that this new online-enabled generation is so averse to paperbacks? Have Americans finally shucked the last remnants of tradition from their lives or is this part of something larger? I can think of three pretty good reasons for why paper is out, and everything else — movies, TV, gaming, music, youtube, et al — is in:

1. The Move to Online Has Made Reading More Difficult

This is something that a lot of people addressing the fall of print tend to overlook. When reading text online over a long period of time, our eyes feel far more strained than they do when we read printed text. A lot of this has to do with the nature of the display. When we were using CRT monitors, information was being spit out onto the screen in much the same way tube-based televisions work: a line of colors was sprayed onto the glass one line at a time, filling in vertically from top to bottom. This process normally takes place at a rate of 60 or 75 Hz, which means that each line would be “refreshed” every 1/60 or 1/75 of a second. So, when you see footage of a monitor flickering in the background or when your monitor actually begins to flicker, what you’re seeing is actually the switching of the image from the old data to new data. The faster this switch occurs, the more it seems like it was one image. Think of it like spinning fan blades: the fast the fan goes, the harder it is to distinguish the individual blades. By speeding up a refresh rate, we fool our eyes into thinking they’re seeing a solid object, rather than flashes of data.

Still with me? Good.

What this all boils down to is that monitors, since they cannot display solid images, make reading difficult. They are much better suited to displaying video, like a television set, because the motion inherent in that medium masks the constantly refreshing lines of data. Thus, if we are sitting in front of a computer, our brains are naturally going to push us towards watching something on Hulu or Youtube than towards an article from the New York Times. With technology pushing us more and more into a world full of electronic displays and digital data, it makes perfect sense that reading has begun to fall off. It is simply not conducive to the lifestyle we are all adopting.

Thankfully, however, technology works like a pendulum, always coming back to its point of origin before proceeding onward again. New display technologies such as e-ink and OLED (organic light-emitting diodes, for the nerds) promise to make staring at a screen far easier on our eyes. The former, used in e-book readers such as Amazon’s Kindle, displays a static page of text, thereby mimicking the look of printed text. It feels incredibly natural to look at, and serves as a solid replacement for carrying a book or newspaper around with you. Plus, the ability to have thousands of books on one device is a convenience all in of itself. So long as we continue to push for development of these kind of replacement products, reading may still have a shot. “Books” as we know them may not continue to exist outside the world of academia for much longer, but the ideas carried within the will always have a home somewhere.

2. A Surplus of Entertainment

This one is pretty straightforward. Simply put, the internet is a vast ocean of content. There are websites hosting video, only bit players in the online world, that have enough content to let you watch something new every hour for years. Most of them, you haven’t heard of. Others, such as Hulu, Crackle, and youtube, upload so much new material that it would take dedication and a large helping of omnipotence on the viewer’s part to try and consume it all. And that’s just video. We also have audio websites, such as Last.fm and Pandora, that let us find new artists, listen to our favorites, and create our very own personalized radio stations. Plus, there’s a whole world of free web games out there. Kongregate, for example, hosts thousands of titles, has multiplayer and community features, tracks achievements for registered users, and charges nary a penny to do it. And this is just some of the stuff online that I happen to know offhand. We also have iPods, Nintendo DSes, PSPs, smartphones and other handheld devices to carry with us in our back pockets, ready to entertain us at a moments notice, with no need for a light so that you can read at night or a place to sit, since you can’t really walk around reading without running the risk of crashing into someone or something.

The world is, quite literally, at our fingertips. Knowing that, do we really still have time to see if Professor Langdon finds the next clue?

3. The Fickle Consumer

The title is rather self-explanatory. As devourers — because at the rate at which we receive information, be it from twitter, facebook, youtube, whathaveyou, it really is devouring — of media content, we like the flexibility of being able to choose what we’re going to entertain ourselves with in our free time. I can go on Hulu right now and pick from watching an episode of Fringe, or maybe Family Guy, or maybe The Daily Show, or maybe I’ll watch a movie. But nothing is forcing me to watch any of these, or even watch something at all.

Compare that to reading a book. When you crack open the cover on a novel, you feel an obligation to continue reading that damn stack of paper until you’ve reached the end. Most likely that wouldn’t occur in one sitting. But as that book lies on your nightstand, or your desk, you look at it with a sense of foreboding — it must be finished. It isn’t right to stop reading it after three chapters. You’ll never know what happens if you stop now. With TV or film, the commitment is hardly ever more than a few hours. With a book, it could take you months before you reach the last page. That bothers us, a lot.

And so, reading is not beloved, but begrudged. We know that it can be fun — the success of Harry Potter proves it — but yet we also know it can be very tiring, even boring. Hell, “textbook” is practically slang for “bore you to death.” Reading has failed because the nature of the process is unforgiving. A TV show can have a bad episode or scene, but still be worth watching. (Heroes somehow keeps getting renewed, after all.) A book, if its bad, has no fallback. There are no hidden pages glued together; the entire package is there, before your eyes, irreparable for all eternity. So we divest ourselves of reading, of going to the bookstore and picking up a random novel on the shelf, of sitting back on a rainy day and transporting ourselves into the mind of great storyteller. We turn on the TV instead, and tune out.

If you’ve stayed with me this far, did you tune out while you were reading some of this? Did you want to go check someone’s status updates, or just wish I’d get to the damn point already? Did that youtube link just send you off on a tangent of viewing that you never recovered from? Perhaps one of the above is true for some of you. Even so, don’t let the irony of the moment be lost on you. As you just read 1600 words on the slow death of reading, you were in fact preserving that very enterprise. So thank you, for reading, and for valuing words just a little bit more than something else that could have kept you busy for as long as this took to finish. Even if it was just this once.

Finishing this today. It’s gross, it’s mostly a build-up for the two sequels, but it’s still almost impossible to to put down. Even when you know that the character you’re reading about is almost certainly going to get offed, you can’t help but wait to see how it happens and cringe at the outcome. Not for the faint of heart, for sure.

Halfway through this, but taking a break to read a bunch of fiction that I’ve been piling up. They call it the definitive book on WWII. Given the step-by-step analysis of the war and the research behind everything, I’d be willing to say that’s probably accurate. Recommended for history buffs who want to read about the entire war in under 600 pages with no pro-/anti-Axis sentiment in the writing.

They call this McCarthy’s masterpiece. Personally, I enjoyed All the Pretty Horses, The Road, and No Country for Old Men far more than this book, but there is something to be said for the sheer shock you feel when reading the levels of violence depicted across these pages. This is a dirty, apathetic, middle finger of a book where every character save one is a walking pile of curses, stink, and booze. However, like Chigurh was to NCfOM, The Judge is the reason you will finish this book. His monologues are heavy-handed lessons in gnosticism and the godliness of the animal-man, but his words and actions build towards a climatic encounter on the book’s closing pages that will have you scratching your head or stunned in disbelief, depending on how you interpret it. For McCarthy fans only. Everyone else, go read The Road or No Country and come back to this one later.

What I will be reading once I finish the Strain. It got a lot of good press last fall and the paperback was like $5.50 at Wal-Mart so I figured I’d give it a shot. Child abduction in Soviet Russia with political intrigue and fur hats is good enough for me to give it a shot.

I read the first few pages of this in Barnes and Noble and I’m already certain I’ll like it. Child is found alone after going out with his friends into the woods, with no trace of the two missing children to be found. The kid then becomes a detective, determined to resolve the case. The writing was really strong and this book and its sequel, The Likeness, get a ton of love on Amazon. Fans of thriller writers like Cussler and Brown should check it out.

“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
“To talk of many things:
Of loans–and groans–and politics–
Of cabbages–and kings–
And why the sea is boiling hot–
And whether pigs have wings.”

When America was formed by the founding fathers, it was never intended to be run by politicians from a warring two party system. In fact, our first two presidents, particularly George Washington, abhorred the ideas of “party lines” and dividing the populace between those who supported states’ rights and those that favored the power of the federal government, or even between those that favored slavery over those that did not. First and foremost, we were all Americans, and that truth–in the minds of these great men–was the one and only factor a political party should ever concern itself with. Alas, we barely made it through a decade before it was clear such a wholesome, united vision of America’s future would be cleaved in two: the Federalists falling to one side (and soon to perish entirely) and the mighty Jeffersonian Republicans on the other. The rest is, as they say, history.

The question I propose now is thus: if the unified party structure was truly so deficient in its ability to represent the will of the people that we had to create a schism clean through to the foundation of our republic (i.e., down to the men who fought for it), why were the originators of this great and lasting (fingers crossed, right?) body politic so keen on sticking to it? Were they blinded by the discontent of the southern states — some of whom had gone begrudgingly into war with Britain when talk of independence first sprouted — who wanted nothing more than to keep to themselves and their cotton fields and large plantations, thank-you-very-much? Perhaps they simply shrugged off the complaints they heard over the taxes and tariffs from those states, knowing in their hearts that they were steering the country on the correct path — away from foreign wars and towards control of its own borders — and that the southerners, just like anyone else, could never truly be satisfied with any concession given to them. (The old story of giving a moose a muffin springs to mind.) But could these noble patriots really have the gall and audacity to give their compatriots the cold shoulder “for the good of the country”?

The answer, I think, is that they were, in fact, worried about the demands of the south and the dichotomy of life in the northern, industrial states versus that in the southern, rural states. With a nation so young, having just finished a war for its own independence, could the government withstand infighting much less appeasement of each and every embittered male landowner? No, I do not think so.

The situation is not so very different today. Our government must choose to punish some (the wealthy, the landowners, the elderly, and more importantly the auto industry), while aiding others (the union workers, the lower class, the unemployed, etc.) in what are ultimately small steps in a very large plan to salvage our economy, as well as our nation, from the perilous decline which has shaken the great powers of the world to their cores.

Do I think that Obama is the same as Washington or Adams, struggling to keep our nation out of conflicts while wrestling with the demands placed on him at home as well as abroad? Not entirely. Obama has inherited a war, not avoided one (a la Adams), and if anything his speeches last November should lead us to believe that more conflict, not less, will be in our country’s future as we fight to restore peace (or rather the facade of peace) to countries in the Middle East and crush the Taliban before it can ever again bring harm upon innocent lives. I think there is a dormant aggression in our new leader that many choose to overlook, or even ignore. A man does not get to become President of the United States with sweaty hands and knocking knees; there is a ferocity hidden in even the most tame of democrats (though Van Buren was a bit of nancy boy). Woodrow Wilson, for one, despised war and believed adamantly in the power of diplomacy to resolve disputes (he set the standard for rulers of today, some argue), but still lead our country valiantly to the defense of France and Britain in the First World War. In fact, I think Obama has inherited many traits from his democratic ancestor, including that passion for diplomacy and a strong versing in literature and oratory. But that is a subject for another, very different blog post.

What moves me today is a concern for the divide spreading through the heart of our country. More and more, Americans are picking sides in a war of words and opinions and they are being fueled on by the inflammatory and outrageous political media. If you were to talk to a moderate or conservative American citizen today, I would bet dollars to doughnuts that they would express some sort of opinion that the media tends to lean to the left and that it is in some way rotting away the values of our nation, perhaps even harming our children. My counter to these claims is, of course, that for every wrong or falsehood expounded by a “liberal” outlet, there is an equally wrong claim from Fox News. For a station that began its tenure under the slogan “fair and balanced” — a campaign they still use today, if I am not mistaken — to be so boldly and daftly conservative in its news coverage, I would say that either someone needs to calibrate the scales or Rupert Murdoch is laughing all the way to the bank. But it is too easy to sit here and criticize a media outlet for doing its job in what I must confess is a very effective manner. Fox News, for good or ill, provides a service that people of certain persuasions find entertaining if not informative, and no different can be said of the other cable news channels such as CNN and MSNBC. It is not the messengers that I have my quarrel with, for they can poison both sides if the viewers are not discerning enough. No, my fight is with you, the people.

Let’s wind the clock back a bit, first.

Thomas Hobbes, a famous philosopher, originated the theory of the Social Contract. In short, this theory claims that before humans enter into what we would call a society, there is an agreement, or rather a concession, made by all involved parties to abide by certain principles and forgo certain civil liberties. For instance, we can say that as a society we will continue to work for our own selfish interests (e.g. money, cars, women, booze) and not for those of a collective (communism lost the war, remember?), but at the same time we won’t kill our neighbor if they happen to borrow a pair of hedge clippers without asking. Even though that guy with the dachshund throws really loud parties on weeknights and your pretty sure he’s stealing cable, you leave him alone because that’s what society demands of you. Now here’s the rub, which Hobbes was also cognizant enough to point out (unlike some other philosophers like Kant who just believe they’re right and don’t address arguments): even though we are taught and/or forced to restrict these desires by the social contract, it does not remove them. In other words, you can’t take the jungle out of the tiger. So while we can all line up at the voting booths each November and be cordial to one another as we submit our ballots and walk off with the firm belief that our candidates will be the winner, the truth is many of us could quite easily turn these “civil” elections into far more barbarous occasions. In America, we often hear the social contract referred to as “the Christian thing to do,” or something similar; irregardless of the title, it is clear that logic and education are what keep civilized man civil — if you want to call it God, well, that works too.

But what happens when we remove the contract, or God, from the equation? (Yes yes, He is omnipotent and omnipresent, I know, just play along.) Well, it just so happens there are many such examples of this transpiring in human history, some of which you’ve probably heard of (Nazi death camps, the battle of Little Big Horn, pretty much all of the crusades). So let’s pick one you may not be familiar with.

On July 2, 1816, a French frigate by the name of Medusa was shipwrecked off the western coast of Africa. The ship has run close along the shore and, despite warnings from the crew, the captain proceeded farther and farther into the shallows until the ship at last ran aground. As if the situation were not horrific enough for the passengers, the Medusa had been grounded during a spring high tide, making it very hard to re-float the frigate. To exacerbate the problem, the captain refused to remove the ship’s cannons, weighing over a dozen tons a piece, and so after vain attempts to dislodge ship from sand, the crew began preparing to abandon the vessel. Though 17 men stayed with the ship and a few others made made the 60 mile trek to shore, the majority of the crew found themselves in either the frigate’s lifeboats, or on a raft which was hastily assembled from parts of the Medusa. When a storm threatened to break up the grounded ship, 146 men and one woman hurried aboard the raft and, along with the lifeboats, took to the sea.

The story of the raft can be found in much more detail in either book form or even on Wikipedia, but the pertinent details come from the raft’s next few weeks on the open sea. With half of the raft underwater at almost all times, no drinking water to be found (only wine), and the inescapable burning of the sun overhead, the survivors took very little time to break with whatever social contract they once enjoyed, and soon found themselves in a gruesome, terrifying struggle. Abandoned by the lifeboats, whose passengers had feared being overtaken by the men on the raft, twenty people were killed or committed suicide the first night at sea. More died trying to fight toward the raft’s center, the only part which was not completely or partially submerged, or by being cast off the raft from the turbulent weather. After four days, only 67 men remained. With no food, cannibalism began to tempt the minds and stomachs of the refugees. By day eight, only fifty men remained.

When I first read this story a few months ago, I was reminded of something from the movie The Dark Knight. In the final showdown between the Batman and the Joker, Heath Ledger’s villain, despite having been fully thwarted by both the people of Gotham and the Batman, remains adamant that society is just a loose set of rules and ideals binding people into living dull, ordinary, and sane lives. “Madness is like gravity,” he explains. “All it takes is a little push.” Are the ties that bind us together really so fragile?

In today’s world, the threats we deal with are not as extreme as isolation on the open seas or massive acts of terrorism by a costumed villain. Instead, they come from disturbed youths bringing weapons into their schools or religious radicals asserting their world views through violence. But most importantly, they come from fear.

The media is quick to cover stories in which something terrible has happened, and for good reason: our right brain is designed to feed on primal urges, and the coverage of violence, death, or panic locks in our attention with a kind of animal magnetism. In an industry fueled by market share and ratings, it would be remiss of us to condemn them for taking these actions. Sure, the swine flu scare has been overexposed and most likely has been played up well beyond even its theoretical potency, but with whom does the blame truly lie? Do we assume that the viewer, affixed to his television with unwavering attention, is the victim? Or is it his need for this sort of stimulus which created the broadcasts in the first place? There’s a saying in the business world that one must let no need go unsatisfied, and as entrepreneurs it is ultimately your goal to find one or many unfulfilled needs and provide the product or service that fulfills them. Like most things in the universe, the forces of supply and demand desire to be in equilibrium — hence why television, music, clothing, and culture continue to adapt and react to one another, year after year, decade after decade. We are all, inevitably, in search of our own sort of personal “happy medium.” The problem is, a perfect equilibrium is an impossibility in this world, and so we continue to adjust and make due with the changes over time — to roll with the punches, if you will. Thus, I stand by my statement earlier that the media is not the issue, as it is ultimately a force seeking to help some of us find that balance.

The problem is with the players, not how the game is being played. According to the social contract, or in less abstract terms the Constitution and Declaration of Independence, we all enter society as equals (“all men are created equal”). However, the benefits given to us as individuals are perfectly heterogeneous — that is, not one person will share the same education, family background, interests, hobbies, skills, etc. as another. By adulthood, we are no longer a nation of “united” states, but rather individual states.

And herein lies the problem with union, be it the Union that is the good ol’ U.S. of A. or the union between you and a friend. Because we are all our own persons — something I am personally a big fan of; monotony sucks — eventually there will arise an issue that two people cannot agree upon. Expand this to a massive scale, and, tada!, you have just found yourself in the battle between Democrats and Republicans. While one side clamors for the end of abortion, the other shouts that individuals rights and beliefs are what make this argument even possible, and therefore the practice should be upheld as a legal option for a mother and her child (or to be permitted by the social contract, you could say). For these same reasons, we can find ourselves caught in conundrums. A right-leaning college educated male who is a devout Christian can support the death penalty, even though his religion forbids murder. Why does he support it, even if his education and spiritual beliefs tell him otherwise? Perhaps his father was gunned down in a convenience store robbery, and he feels justice must sometimes be exacted at the “eye for an eye” level. Or perhaps it’s just a result of the chemical composition in his brain, as a scientist might argue (sometime scientists suck, I know).

(A quick aside: in preparing for this post, I joked with a friend that the only perfectly harmonious society that has ever existed, to my knowledge, was the jellyfish, which in some species will actually link up to form massive colonies that work sort of like a school of fish. The catch is that jellyfish have no brains, and so any decision they make to live as a colony is purely out of some sort of reaction on the chemical level, thus proving my point once again that allowing people, or at least certain people, to think is the source of all our problems. Why is Paris Hilton famous again?)

I know that these are challenging ideas and very large concepts that I am attempting to condense into a very abstract argument, but if you’re still with me, I am grateful. My point today, or rather the idea that I hope to impress to you readers, is that if there is ever to be a reconciliation, a redrawing of the social contract, it has to begin at the most fundamental level–with you and I. The more we make ourselves aware of why we take certain actions, the more capable we are of controlling those actions and not letting those actions control us. Much like my last politically-charged post, think of this as a sort of call to arms. The next time you find yourself nodding in agreement with one of the talking heads on TV, take a minute to try to reason out why it is that you’re nodding. Our minds are always looking to solve puzzles and make the irrational world make sense. Try to harness that ability on a conscious level. It’s like one of those draw-by-numbers books: you start off just connecting the dots, and by the time you finish, there’s a freaking Pegasus leaping off the page.

Believe it or not, this is the principle upon with our government was built. Why do you think people joke about writing a letter to your congressman? Because, a long time ago, it actually did more than jack and shit. Our politicians are representatives of the will of the people, and therefore the power of the country lies in us, not them. We can sit by and watch as the Dems and Reps on Capitol Hill bicker with one another about the future of our country, or we can use our voices and speak up. I’m not saying you need to start watching C-SPAN — I’m not a sadist. But if we want to stop party politics from becoming the new class lines, ignorance is not an option. In the future, will Romeo not be allowed to marry Juliet because his family supports gay marriage and hers still calls African Americans “colored” people? A difference of opinion can be a great thing in a friendship, or even a relationship. Lord knows I don’t agree with my friends on every issue (though most of the time it’s because they’re just utterly wrong), but we’re still friends all the same. Just because your religion tells you homosexuality is wrong does not mean all gays are riding shotgun with Lucifer on the highway to hell. But still I see the judgment in people’s eyes when two guys seem a little too close to each other. I’m sorry, I thought it was the 21st century. Haven’t we gotten past this yet?

Bottom line: the code of conduct in our society is not written in words, but in actions. Do not let ignorance and fear act as controlling forces in your mind. We do not need to be categorized by party, social class, or sexual interest — labels are a shortcut to help make expressing negative opinions easier. Fight them. Think through your actions and understand the sources of your beliefs. Deduction, my dear Watson, is a wonderful thing.

Pay attention to your surroundings; don’t let things happen to you, let yourself be the one who dictates the change. There is no way to please everyone, so focus on doing what’s right for yourself; more often than not, it will be what’s best for everyone.

And for the love of God, if you get shipwrecked somewhere, don’t eat the person next to you. He might have swine flu.

To be perfectly frank, I have no idea what exactly the title for this post means. I needed to put something in the box, and some letters flew from my fingers. The rest, as they say, is history.

I’ve been feeling a bit distant from gaming lately. I still keep up with the news regularly — and my engagement in gaming-related discussions and the like have not waned in any discernible way — but something about the actuality of playing something has become something almost revolting. I still clock in a few hours on LOTRO nightly, trying my damnedest to get a steed and hit level 50 to hand with all the other big boys, but turning on my PS3 or Wii for something other than watching a movie or downloading games — yeah, I’m buying stuff and not playing it… how sick is that? — is simply no longer occuring. I think the problem lies somewhere with my decision to plow through FFXII this summer, before moving on to another game, as I still have ten or twelve hours to clock in there that I am wondering if I even have in me. But, damnit, sooner or later the pile of shame will crush me and I’ll have to play something to live with myself. I just hope writing about it will work as some sort of… catalyst for my gaming soul to get its ass in gear. That, and the trip I’m taking to New York should allow for great DS moments.

Instead of video games, I’ve been occupying a lot of time with chores, work, golf, movies, and books. one-upping the nation’s brightest minds. At its heart, Bourne is simply trying to get to the next place in one piece, to find out why he is a killing machine and who turned him in to one. He is intense, driven, and simultaneously selfless, risking life and limb for old friends and complete strangers that may be able to provide him with a clue as to where to go next. Its stunts are wild but never extraordinary. Its violence is brutal but controlled. Its a movie that is practically engineered to have plaudits whooping and pundits quitely nodded with grudging approval. In short, a hard film to hate that — even if it was less entertaining than the spectacle of Die Hard 4 — is solidly built and well-directed by the seemingly unstoppable Paul Greengrass. I urge you all to see this movie.

Ahh… so where does that leave me? I think I was going to write something about how Nintendo has been completely ignoring its major titles coming out this year, or something truly compelling about how the Wii is essentially what the GameCube could have been, given a few changes in the industry. I could have also written about some of those bloody books I’ve been reading (short story: Suite was good, Cussler’s Black Wind is feeling a bit stale so far, and Harry Potter you’ve heard enough about). But I think that having finally written something after a two week absence is good enough for me, and I’ll leave things here. There’s a horse that needs buying.

—————-
Now playing: Interpol – Pace Is the Trick
via FoxyTunes

Sorry to come off so despondent and downtrodden in the last post there. I was still very much on the fence about the book and that coupled with some other stuff made me a bit irritated at how Mrs. Rowling chose to finish her saga. I will say though that once Dobby rescues the trio from the Malfoy house, the story really hits its stride. You still have the same sort of intense chapter followed by a handful of development/aftermath chapters formula used at the beginning, but by this point the year has been dragging on, more and more people are dying or being captured, and the ultimate goal of the novel–for Harry and Voldemort to duel– is getting nearer.

Plus, along the way we get to find out Snape’s true motivations (kind of expected, for us Snape followers, don’t know about the rest of you), the real story behind Albus and Aberforth and their sister, what exactly the title of the novel relates to– Deathly Hallows: really, could we not get a better word? — and more. I remember reading a list of 10 questions one journalist was hoping to have answered in this novel, and it’s like Rowling took that list and ran with it. If anything, we get plenty of resolutions in this book, which is certainly as much as one could ask for. I think my problem with the novel lay primarily with the structure of the story and the events used to bind one plot thread to another. I mean, it hardly seems gripping when you know what Harry’s ultimate goal is, you know who is in his way, and you know that he’s going to somehow make it through the next 300 pages alive to get to the big showdown. But that is also a problem that stems from this being the official Book 7, final chapter of all things Potter. So really, as much as I gripe about the novel, it’s not like some of these flaws were actually avoidable.

That having been said, the payoff in the finale is most definitely bittersweet. I’m not sure exactly what parts had me liking it or loving it, but the whole principle of wandlore, “dying,” and Dumbledore’s Army at times didn’t sit right with me. Considering how little Harry actually knows in terms of magic at this point in his life, it’s rather silly to think that dozens of students can stand up against an oncoming army of Death Eaters, giants, and monstrous spiders. I also dislike that the deaths in this book seem to follow a rather simple trend: anyone adult who has protected Harry at some point against the Dark Lord is in serious danger of being killed or maimed. Sure, plenty of other deaths are referenced, but none by name save for the ones that should have had enough magical know-how and skill to fend for themselves. The Order of the Phoenix should just be renamed “Voldemort’s hit list.” I mean, seriously.

I guess I won’t say too much about the last three chapters, for the sake of saving something for discussion at a later date. But in the end, HP7 was another solid entry in a landmark series that–despite my grievances–is in fact a worthy end to the Potter story. I hope you all enjoyed reading this book and experiencing the flurry of emotions it throws at you. I don’t think I’ve ever loved, despised, adored, abhorred, praised, or condemned a book all at once in my life before. And for me to become so riled up over a pound of paper and text, well, that’s just a testament to how much J.K. Rowling was able to make me care about her characters. Hats off, milady. It was a damned fine show.

I guess I only have myself to blame for this one: after promising, or really just implying, that I would be writing a review of each of the press conferences individually, and then finding myself utterly sucked into the void of the Electronic Entertainment Expo for what must now be the sixth year running, I can offer no defense as to why I have taken nearly two weeks to compose a new entry to this blog. No defense, save for Jeff Bell.

I find that whole story, as a member of GAF, to be a sad summation of the video game industry. If we’re at a point where the bitching and moaning of the internet masses can cause a public official to stoop so low as to create a forum account to get his shits and giggles from, then I really don’t think we’ve come very far from the video games industry that your parents and their parents always said was a waste of time, childish, and rotting our brains. Yes, the internet rots our brains, but isn’t that supposed to be one of the reasons we love it? It worked for TV.

Anyway, I’m not really sure where I was going with that thought. I have a lot on my mind in terms of E3 and the week that has occurred since, but I don’t know if I’ll be sufficiently capable of discussing that all tonight, when I have just finished Harry Potter’s seventh retelling, and am both emotionally and mentally flabbergasted by what I should say. I guess I’ll just get to putting it all into words. Words that may spoil.

I think that, right now, given all the changes in my life this summer, particularly in terms of losing things I hold dear, that something in me has been forever lost with this final chronicle of the teenage wizard. Since seventh grade, I have been reading these novels–essentially growing up with the character, though Mrs. Rowling’s prolonged drought between novels 5, 6, and 7 has stretched that on a bit more than expected– and it is with both joy and sorrow that I set about pillaging my way through the new book. To start, I wasn’t exactly ready to be back with Harry just yet. I saw Order of the Phoenix on Friday (definitely not the spectacle I wanted it to be, but enjoyable all the same) to get myself primed for the heavy injection of Potter I would be receiving the coming morning–midnight launches just aren’t my scene–but part of the trouble may have arisen from my hurried finished of the admittedly stellar Suite Francaisse. (Short side note: the second half of the book, Dolce, was an incredibly stirring 130-odd pages of prose. It was like reading a short and to-the-point version of a Jane Austin novel, without the old English pomp and circumstance and with a bit of the WWII mystique. Definitely worth reading for fans of rich writing, strong characters, and compelling fiction.) Having set this down, I gathered my wits and dove headlong into the 758 pages of Hallows, expecting nothing and everything at the same time.

I suppose that the first few chapters offered that quick reward the two years (it was two years, right?) wait had us fans yearning for, with a quick reveal of the Dark Lord’s plans and return to Harry at the Dursleys (sic), for one last time, as he is approaching 17 and the end of his time under the magical protection bestowed upon all underage wizards. We then get a brilliant “Flight of the Phoenix” chapter –yes, a terrible pun, but so, so fitting– in which we lose possibly the strongest of the Order and a glimpse of how ghastly Rowling is willing to go in her detailing of the wizarding violence. Then there’s a prolonged reprieve, in which we are at the Burrow, planning the Horcrux quest, getting ready for the wedding, and generally sitting around waiting for the next big thing. the new Minister of Magic drops in to give some bizarre remnants of Dumbledore’s will to the kids, and then we get to the first of the books several nadirs: the Bill and Fleur wedding.

Now, I have nothing against Bill and Fleur. They’re fine secondary characters. But I honestly thought I read an entire chapter to find out two things they could have stuck in anywhere: Luna’s father has a weird symbol on his necklace and Voldemort has taken over the Ministry. Yeah there was some dirt thrown up about Dumbledore in that chapter too, but it could have honestly been from anyone anywhere in the novel, even if it was Hermione reciting a newpaper clipping (a semi-cheap way of plot development employed throughout the novel with letters, fairy tales, and Daily Prophet excepts), but aside from the chase chapter nothing had yet gotten my fingers clenching the book close, my eyes skimming words as quickly as possible to find out where the events would lead. I think the lack of any sort of Quidditch match may be largely responsible for these initially greivances as well. I mean, what is Harry without his broom?

Anyway, that all leads to another getaway bit, only Harry, Ron, and Hermione are now on their own, and will be for sometime. In fact, the next quarter of the novel is mostly descriptions of the three scratching their head over Horcrux locations while some minor plot development occurs and Harry begins acting like his angsty 15-year-old self did in Order. I did enjoy the Ministry bit immensely, but that also seemed to continue a strange trend for the novel: We have periods of Harry, Ron, and Hermione sitting around discussing what to do and getting angry/upset/bored/etc. followed by a scene where they all use Polyjuice Potion to change their appearance and/or hide under the cloak to get into some dangerous place, get a horcrux or at least try to, and get out. And I kid you not, that happens literally every time they plan a capture. I think I saw a movie similar to this, where the same con was used over and over until it went horribly wrong, but I can’t think of the name.

Anyway, Ron leaves for a while, predictably, and at this point the book was becoming a little too grim and unfriendly, even for a tale that’s taking place during a war/occupation/whathaveyou. So it was great to have a chapter like Bathilda’s Secet come along and make you say Holy Fucking Shit that was not PG. I mean, that and the preceding chapter, Godric’s Hollow, are complete Tim Burton mindfuck material: disguised as old people, looking around in the thick snowdrifts of the cemetary, then going into a creepy, blind old woman’s home that smells like death and getting attacked like that? Pure awesome. Until we get broken-wand Harry-emo going again. Sigh.

But really, I’m not that down on it all. I’m being a little dismissive of the important plot development bits that get sandwiched in between all that angry, stubborn Harry stuff. That’s probably a result of me having tried to will the character into a more likeable, more awesome wizard for so long. Honestly, if he would have just sat there and read some spell books, trained himself in attacks and counters, and maybe brushed up on some wizarding history after the six years of shit he went through, you think we could avoid some of the pitfalls he has in book 7. But… it’s not like I could actually write a better book, I just nag.

And with that, I’m going to leave this summary unfinished and pick up tomorrow with the return of Ron and Dobby. Hopefully getting a bit of this off the old chest will do me some good. We’ll see!

I’m not even going to go into why I haven’t written a damned thing in two weeks. Let’s get busy.

I am officially in love with Cormac McCarthy…’s writing. After reading The Road last month I went to the bookstore and purchased the soon-to-be-a-theatrical-film No Country For Old Men, and it was–in a word– stunning. I’ll be very up front about it all: the man does not write comedies. Both books are dark and tragic in their own way, full of death and fear and brutality. Yet at the end of both novels, you realize that the point of the book wasn’t to envelop you in this violent and bloodthirsty reality, but instead to celebrate the smaller victories that come with even the biggest tragedies. I honestly cannot allow myself to say any more on the subject, as ruining either work would feel downright sinful, but rest assured that spending your money on either book will bring you hours of rapture and a strong dosage of enlightenment. For me, having recently suffered a rather dark hour in my own life, finding some solace in McCarthy’s bare prose and terse worlds was truly a blessing. I consider it my duty to inform you that such a feeling should not be hoarded, but shared with as many people as possible. So, go buy a book you bums. It’s summer, after all. I doubt you’re doing anything more productive.

BUT BUT BUT! Before you close this tab (you lazy little scumbuckets that can’t read more than one-hundred word posts I spit at you), Allow me some more gushing.

Planet Earth. I just got the thing on Blu-Ray and–after watching the first episode in HD a few weeks ago–I can’t think of anything I’m more excited to do that pop this bitch in tomorrow. If I ever for a moment regretted purchasing a PS3, this little gem has made it all worth it. Seriously, I haven’t even popped it in yet but somehow owning the series has lifted my spirits and brought a sparkle to my eye. Nature is a beautiful thing, and I am anxious to finally watch something that accurately captures its glory.

Afro Samurai is another one of my purchases, but I haven’t yet watched this Director’s Cut. Apparently most of the new footage is for the sex scene (BOOBIES BOOBIES BOOBIES!), but either way the show is some of the most balls-out ass-kickingly (not a real word) good anime I’ve seen in a while. Of course, the other anime I’m watching is Monster, which is far from ass-kicking but still good, so I guess you could say that I’m in good company as far as video is concerned.

Unfortunately though I haven’t had time to play my purchased copy of Odin Sphere, since I am boycotting myself from playing anything until I beat FFXII, which also means I’m waiting to buy Tomb Raider Anniversary, something I’m rather giddy to sink my teeth into. The other side of this coin is actually uplifting as far as I’m concerned: I’ve stopped playing Pokemon. Yes, I became champion, saw the 150, and quit. I know there’s a whole ‘nother island to go see, and all the 354 or something remaining pokemon to grab, but fuck it, I have more important games to play. Like Lunar Knights. And Tomb Raider. Bah, talking about pokeys gets me angry. I think I’ll leave off here for now. I’m going to go start Suite Francaisse tomorrow (finally!) and of course binge on Planet Earth. I’ll hopefully be back with more on those soon.

Well, it’s been a bit longer than the usually lengthy intermission between posts, but I’m back after a stressful and stress-relieving week. Some exciting things have been going on, some not so much. Let’s get down to the brass tacks then.

First, I’ve re-established my love for Interpol, the original hair-cut kings and princes of melodrama from New York. The group has some of the best sounding guitars in modern rock; not quite the roaring noise of metal but also dislike the wailing and waining of emo six-stringers. It’s more akin to a siren’s call, hauntingly ethereal yet hypnotically enticing, pulling sounds from the air and weaving them into some fine symphony. In total, the band’s two CDs (Antics and Turn on the Bright Lights) only span a scant 21 tracks, but I’d say about 16 of these are more than worth the time it would take to get ahold of them. So, then, that’s your homework for the week.

What’s more exciting, though, is that yesterday (today for me, and what a long one it’s been… 20 hours and ticking) I was lucky enough to go to see The Decemberists at the Hard Rock. Yes, this is the same group that I have said people must get off the cocks of, and the same group that I was wooed by some two or three months ago. However, what I failed to mention then that I am now capable of telling you all is that the band is fucking unbelievable in concert. From the moment the Russian anthem begins to the end of the encore (The Mariner’s Revenge Song … for those that know the song you know how pants-soiling awesome this was) there was never a moment where the group faltered. Each song connected and slowly ramped up the kinetic energy of the room until the standing-room only crowd began to literally stomp with beast-like fervor for more; our aural appetite was insatiable.

And then they came out and played Mariner’s, complete with an awful paper mache + sheet as a giant whale. Nevertheless, it was more than sufficient, and I left with “the boys” stunned at the spetacle I had just been fortunate enough to be privy to. I don’t think I can beat around the bush anymore on this subject: the band is great in concert, and I would gladly see them again anytime.

That being the highlight of my week, let me bullet point the rest: I’ve traveled over 600 miles this weekend, in car, and my brain is currently popping and sizzling like a bit of plastic in the microwave. I’ve been on go-karts, ATVs, truck-like workhorse vehicles, dirt bikes, and God knows what else. I’ve had barbeque pork, sushi, ribs, lobster, and plenty of chocolate in the last few days to probably feed five people. I’ve listened to over eight hours of podcasts, radio, and iPod music in my car in two days. I got refused at the Hard Rock Hotel because I couldn’t think of a restaurant name (don’t ask). I’ve stressed over tests that a five year old can pass, sold ice cream for fundraisers, and learned more about syphilis and measles than any sane man would care to know. I also have a cold sore on the side of my mouth that makes me think I have TB or Herpes, even though that would be utterly impossible. But still, I appear to be what they call “sane.” Go figure that one out.

I said last week that I would be reading Suite Francaise, however this is untrue. Instead of opting for the novella/French WWII drama, I went with the quirky yet gripping little book called Snow Crash, by Neal Stephenson. For those unfamiliar with the title, imagine a future where America and the rest of the world has been completely commercialized so that governments no longer exists, but instead we are merely a collection of sovereignties owned by big international businesses. Now add on top of this a dash of sci-fi tech (of course) and a virtual, Second Life-esque world called the Metaverse that people “goggle” into from anywhere in the world, where anyone can be anything from a massive prick (literally) to a rock god. Then add some of the best humor you can possibly think of, and you’re getting close to the glory of this book.

Short version: Read it, if you have any interest in science fiction, the internet, or high speed pizza delivery.

Also, I’ve been keeping pace with Guns, Germs, and Steely Objects, and that’s going rather well. It’s fun to learn some of the more obscure facts that Diamond presents, but unfortunately the book is far too dry and scholarly in its writing to be recommended without reservations. But… it’s growing late, so I’ll cut myself off here and hopefully pick back up in a few days with something exciting to discuss.

I’m not going to link to it, but many of you probably know that today marked the big reveal of GTA IV, or the Second Coming as far as most of the gaming world has been hyping it (although Super Paper Mario is fighting the Master Chief for the title as we speak). Suffice it to say, the trailer is all too brief and all-too-familiar as far as I’m concerned. We’re looking at a very nicely detailed Liberty City and a Russian immigrant who sounds like he used to be in the human trafficking business. Yawn. I’m sure the game will be all sorts of knee-to-the-balls awesome, but I’m just too ambivalent towards the franchise and its massive herd-like following to care.

At the same time, it’s never felt so good to slam some prissy Greek’s head into a door. That’s right, God of War II has been out for two weeks now and I’m currently about 55% or so through the game. To put it bluntly, the game is like sex for my hands and a rim job for my eyes. The combo system is utterly flawless and the game–which I’ve manned up and decided to tackle on Hard–is masterfully balanced. Each foe has a weakness to exploit and a strength to avoid. Unlike similar PS2 action romp Devil May Cry, the game rewards patience and precision. Carefully executed combo strings and magic timing are far more effective here than, say, DMC3′s aerial juggles and dash-slash handiwork. That’s not to say that the DMC games are bad–the original is one of my top favorites on PS2, and the third game is hard enough to make me want to kick a baby–it’s just that their particular style of game is more oriented around the flashiness of your movements where as Kratos’ controls are oriented around a whirlwind of chain-slinging death.

I could wax on about the story, but essentially the material is a direct continuation of God of War the original, with Kratos being a bitter so-and-so that wants to go all ancient-emo on Zeus. It’s not really the story that matters, good though it may be. What’s amazing about this game is the presentation. The fact that the tutorial level is a fight against the mammoth Colossus of Rhodes trumps even the momentous Hydra battle of the last title, and the scale of the game only widens as you move on. Whipping massive steeds to move an island, attacking Titans, and hauling ass atop a Pegasus whilst clipping the wings from a gryphon is just a taste of what the first twelve hours alone offer. I can’t really say it too many times: the game is fucking fantastic.

Elsewhere in the world, I’ve been rather intrigued by a couple things. First off, the Folding@home project is a perfect way to justify my electricity bills, and I’m really excited by how much support the project has gotten from PS3 owners (over 50,000 unique contributions). The system acts like a screen saver–I’m currently running it while typing this–as the globe slowly revolves, revealing the glow of city lights in a twinkling white and the active PS3s folding in a prominent yellow. It’s almost like using the weather forecast on the Wii: zooming out, spinning around the world and pulling in on Prague or Paris or Kyoto and seeing who else is putting their time in to find the cure to serious illnesses and cancers. Of course, it’s not something that I’m lauding because its on PS3–I run f@h on my PC too–it’s just such a positive feature and such a simple way to show you’re willing to help that I can’t think of a reason NOT to do it. Aside from the electric bill, that is.

Speaking of ways to help out, I just finished off Beyond Malthus a little paperback by the Worldwatch Institute that nicely summarizes the world’s coming damnation. In 21 chapters, the book identifies 19 issues present in the world today that, coupled with population growth (the number one problem facing us today), mark the coming of bad times for the world. Though the book was written in 1999 and we’re all still alive and doing moderately well, the facts are indismissable: fisheries are shrinking, land is becoming more and more densely populated, water supplies are dropping, and death tolls in third world countries are on the rise. It certainly says “fuck the spoon, you’ll need a whole crate of sugar to wash this down,” but I’d expect nothing less from an economic/ecological survey. And while the book provides no solid answers or solutions of its own to the dilemmas it presents, it does serve as a rather insightful and harrowing look at just how precious the world really is. I sure hope it doesn’t go anywhere anytime soon.

Ahh, what else… I’m reading Guns, Germs, and Steel, another dry droll about environmental determinism as a means to explain why whites rule the world and why indigenous people get slaughtered, so I guess that’s new. I’m about to start into Suite Francaisse as well, which got rave reviews last year when it was released, and there’s an insurmountable number of games in my Pile of Shame right now. Just looking at my dresser makes me weep in pity at my busy life and inability to plow through even the most simplest of games (Devil May Cry 2, anyone?). So if I make any progress there–Motorstorm is dying to be played–I guess I’ll jot a note down. Other than that, life’s just the same old, same old around here. Probably won’t write again until next Thursday, so Go Gators in the meantime and sayonara .