Sunday, August 8, 2010
WHALE WRECKIN'
I do dishes. I do laundry. And when I'm feeling sassy, I sweep things. I act like I'm Harry Potter playing against God on the Quidditch field. I broom around the house, blowing shit up.
Because I'm a man.
Which brings me to today's story.
When I first came to college, I threw myself into new friendships like a great white throws itself into seals. No friend cliques had yet formed and so creating pockets of friends was incredibly easy to do.
We were shepherded around for hours every day until classes began. Once such shepherding brought us to the athletic complex where we were to have our Freshman Convocation. This was a ceremony where everyone went "YAY WE'RE IN COLLEGE WOOO" and the University gave us glowsticks. It was nothing short of stellar.
One of my voraciously acquired companions sat next to me on the bleachers of the gym. After a few minutes of good, semi-deep talking, he looked up, across the sea of people and said:
"I WOULD TOTALLY WRECK THAT CHICK."
He looked to me for some sort of response. I tried to laugh it off. We talked for another few minutes and then, again, without warning, he repeated it. This time while gesturing to some gimpy whale who was trying to make her way down an aisle but was being thwarted by the pull of her gravitational field.
He turned toward me again, eyes asking for me to join in. I laughed awkwardly, let out a big "HEEEENEEHWAAAYS..." and restarted the conversation. He did this many more times over the course of the evening, selecting a wide spectrum of women. After that night, I rarely spoke with him.
I thought this was a Freshman thing, some sort of 'LOOK HOW MAN I AM' macho game that 18 year olds played with one another.
And then it happened, again, just the other day. I'm now half way through my college years and some guys are still trying to make friends with me by pointing out which females they want to have sex with.
I will take this time to make a brief public service announcement to all the male readership I have:
Stop screaming about which females you'd have sex with. It's highly unlikely that they would allow you to, given your level of douchebaggery. If you take a more metered approach, perhaps by saying things you could say straight to a woman, you may be surprised with the change in the female population's reaction to you.
It does not make you look manly. It only inspires the kind of 'bro' relationship involving jack johnson, game cube, and oversized sex toys.
Thank you for your time.
Because I'm a man.
Which brings me to today's story.
When I first came to college, I threw myself into new friendships like a great white throws itself into seals. No friend cliques had yet formed and so creating pockets of friends was incredibly easy to do.
We were shepherded around for hours every day until classes began. Once such shepherding brought us to the athletic complex where we were to have our Freshman Convocation. This was a ceremony where everyone went "YAY WE'RE IN COLLEGE WOOO" and the University gave us glowsticks. It was nothing short of stellar.
One of my voraciously acquired companions sat next to me on the bleachers of the gym. After a few minutes of good, semi-deep talking, he looked up, across the sea of people and said:
"I WOULD TOTALLY WRECK THAT CHICK."
He looked to me for some sort of response. I tried to laugh it off. We talked for another few minutes and then, again, without warning, he repeated it. This time while gesturing to some gimpy whale who was trying to make her way down an aisle but was being thwarted by the pull of her gravitational field.
He turned toward me again, eyes asking for me to join in. I laughed awkwardly, let out a big "HEEEENEEHWAAAYS..." and restarted the conversation. He did this many more times over the course of the evening, selecting a wide spectrum of women. After that night, I rarely spoke with him.
I thought this was a Freshman thing, some sort of 'LOOK HOW MAN I AM' macho game that 18 year olds played with one another.
And then it happened, again, just the other day. I'm now half way through my college years and some guys are still trying to make friends with me by pointing out which females they want to have sex with.
I will take this time to make a brief public service announcement to all the male readership I have:
Stop screaming about which females you'd have sex with. It's highly unlikely that they would allow you to, given your level of douchebaggery. If you take a more metered approach, perhaps by saying things you could say straight to a woman, you may be surprised with the change in the female population's reaction to you.
It does not make you look manly. It only inspires the kind of 'bro' relationship involving jack johnson, game cube, and oversized sex toys.
Thank you for your time.
Indie Game: Loved
Video games have recently emerged as an interactive art form. Leading this movement is a creative force of developers known as Indies. If a she-wolf and a minotaur mated, had a baby, and that baby copulated with a unicorn, they'd produce indies.
These guys blow the innovation-pants off of major publishers, despite their lack of resources. Some of them run their own studios, but the largest percentage of the indie population work during their evenings, bringing the insane content of their dreams to everyone else's finger tips.
The video game industry is approaching a fork in the road. With the rise of ease-of-use development tools like Game Maker, Unity, and Shiva, game creation is becoming the realm of the everyman. This crossover will, in my opinion, parallel the rise of film and legitimize video games as a form of interactive art.
I recently played a game called Loved over at Kongregate. It's a 2d platformer that masks a well of screaming, philosophical rage. You have to choose between obeying the 'master' and not. If you obey, the world gets more detailed. If you disobey, it becomes filled with gorgeous colors. The game has a lot to say about life, if you feel like digging. If you don't, it's still creepy and entertaining.
Even if your hands are flippers you should be able to burn through it in under 15 minutes. Let Loved in.
These guys blow the innovation-pants off of major publishers, despite their lack of resources. Some of them run their own studios, but the largest percentage of the indie population work during their evenings, bringing the insane content of their dreams to everyone else's finger tips.
The video game industry is approaching a fork in the road. With the rise of ease-of-use development tools like Game Maker, Unity, and Shiva, game creation is becoming the realm of the everyman. This crossover will, in my opinion, parallel the rise of film and legitimize video games as a form of interactive art.
I recently played a game called Loved over at Kongregate. It's a 2d platformer that masks a well of screaming, philosophical rage. You have to choose between obeying the 'master' and not. If you obey, the world gets more detailed. If you disobey, it becomes filled with gorgeous colors. The game has a lot to say about life, if you feel like digging. If you don't, it's still creepy and entertaining.
Even if your hands are flippers you should be able to burn through it in under 15 minutes. Let Loved in.
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