Please help raise money for a cancer survivor!

catcard:

Guys, I need your help.

image

This man right here is a person who fought cancer and won. But he is now undergoing surgery to recover from the aftereffects of that battle. He is an incredible person who is in pain, and he can’t cover all of the costs that these surgeries require. The only obstacle between him and excellent health is these final surgeries.

Click read more for the link to the fundraiser, and to read more about him. Please reblog, signal boost, spread the word. Anything is appreciated.

Thank you.

Read More

(Reblogged from catcard)

A Public Service Announcement

Given the current climate, this may seem off topic, but I just wanted to remind everyone that not all Ford Pintos exploded. Only sometimes when a Ford Pinto was involved in an accident, a defect in the design of the fuselage would cause an explosion and permeate a large area in burning gasoline, maiming or killing anyone caught in the blast. Saying that all Ford Pintos should be recalled is an unreasonably broad statement. There is no need to change the Ford Pinto. Ford Pinto drivers just need to be more cautious, maybe if they wore head to toe fire fighter gear while they drove their injuries wouldn’t have happened. In most cases, drivers were clearly dressed like they were asking to be burned alive, choking on a cloud of toxic fumes. Not all Ford Pintos are like that, and the ones that are obviously suffer from some unforeseen problem. Clearly, it is on the onus of the victims to find a solution to this “problem” and not Ford, propagator of the strong, dependable sub-compact car.

The One They Fear

I downloaded a Skyrim mod that let’s me play as a bard and perform whatever music I want. Now I roam from tavern to tavern, dungeon troll blood dripping from the armor I made out of a dragon I hunted myself, and patrons turn towards me in their chairs. They’re eager enough to set their flagons aside for my tales tales of harrowing adventure, of heists and escapes, betrayal and conquest, my ascension to glory.

Some of them shy away from my presence, knowing the rumors of my involvement with the Dark Brotherhood, or of how I killed the High King of Skyrim with my bare hands. My shadow casts a chill where it lands that is otherworldly. In Nordic tongues, I ended legendary beasts and devoured their mighty souls while their skinned crackled in a magic flame.

They all listen, just the same.

"This is a song I wrote for my girlfriend, before we broke up," I say, and as the first chords of Wonderwall tremble from my lyre, so begins my most terrible reign upon this land.

Anonymous said: Why do nutz have to be so particular?

yoisthisracist:

I just like to be specific.

(Reblogged from yoisthisracist)

donutsforsharks said: I long for the day that you have to change the name of this site to "Yo, how is Boogie doing?"

yoisthisracist:

Boogie is taking a nap.

Hey that’s me!

(Reblogged from yoisthisracist)

A Quick Comic

Can you even imagine what this is like? It’s like validating every single thought I’ve had about being worthless. It confirms every urge to hate myself until I meet a standard. I cannot grant permission to love myself until I am acceptable. Right now it looks like I’m not and won’t be for a while. That means no confidence. I can’t talk to people anymore, flirting is an anxiety lurking behind worry. It means no motivation, no reason to really do much of anything. Even writing this now feels like a strain, each stroke of this pen is a tug at my heart and I want more than anything for it to stop. It means that everything I witness is in some way a reflection of myself. For example, I can’t watch Star Trek anymore. Why? Everyone in that show is so happy and confident. They can all feel like they have a valuable place in their world. So each time I watch Star Trek I have to wonder: where is the place for me? And I can’t escape that question anymore. Can’t play a video game without feeling like a nerd. Can’t be challenge without feelikg like I’m just not enough; not strong enough or smart enough or clever enough, and suddenly everything is a reminder that I’m not enough. I can never be enough until I learn to love myself again. But where do I start? How do I accept the flaws that make me, me? Flaws and flaws, and I ask: why do the imperfect people around me seem so happy? Why do they live life, have sex, find reasons to laugh and work hard. Why do they get the chance to feel good enough to work toward something when I can only see work as a product of my own failure? The answer is even worse. It’s me. I am the reason that I am so miserable. It’s all me and I can’t help it, except to sit here and write this mess out. I drew two figures here. One of them in a flower pot, and the other in a glass submerged.  You may be wondering which one you or I am supposed to be, and at times I feel like I could be one or the other.  Or neither. I could draw dozens of other figures about depression and self worthlessness, but the trouble is that they’re all buried and quiet in some way, because all of them wonder: are you listening?

Is there anything left to listen to?

The sign says: There’s too much down here. Please hurry. 

Haiku For You

Be happy faster

But sadness is orbital

Just faster cycles

A Haiku For You

It was rough today

Sometimes stories write themselves

Sometimes I’m too sad

What I think of The Last of Us

Back in 2007, Bungie was bragging about how one battle sequence in Halo 3 had more allies and enemies running around than they were able to program into the entire opening level of the original Halo. Waves of enemies to gun down. Scores of enemies to blow to pieces. More enemies, more lasers flying around, and the game becomes more intense; that’s the theory. A large number of enemies to fight makes the game more nail biting.

Uncharted would regularly throw three or five waves of about a dozen enemies at you. Some levels of CoD had you using big missiles to kill half a dozen guys at once while you shot at another couple dozen. Fighting small armies single handedly supposedly makes the action thrilling. 

The Last of Us’s final battle involves eight enemies. Eight. And it’s the most stressful, terrifying level I have ever played out of any game, ever. To the point where I felt carnal. By that point in the game I had invested 15 hours following Joel and Ellie and I wanted them to succeed, and I felt ashamed for wanting them to succeed. It was sacrilegious pleasure to take down each enemy. 

And it sucks, because I don’t want to go into it any further than that without spoiling the game. There’s so much character development going on in that final battle, and it’s a complete shift in tone. But even then, I only recognize it because I played it. There were no musical cues, or pieces of exposition, or cliched scenes of the character standing by a lightning flickered backdrop. The game silently, suddenly, changes everything and it is a testament to the writing and direction that you go along with it without being hit over the head (proverbially). 

Maybe I’m giving the reviewers a hard time, but they didn’t go far enough. As literate human beings they can recognize a good story but lack the education or experience that can help them explain exactly why. Most will bring something up about subtlety, and that’s true. Like the game design, the story follows a less is more approach. But subtlety just means that Naughty Dog didn’t treat the player like an idiot. Like a good story, the characters are written well enough that the audience is able to conclude decisions, emotions and reactions as they happen on screen. There’s a mastery to the story telling here in that much of that vicariousness is handled through silence. The game loves silence, and breaks in the silence are violent, terrifying moments. 

Maybe that’s a point the game is trying to make. Part of the human element is that we can communicate with one another without using words, and when we do choose to talk, our speech can mask an entire web of complicated feelings and past history. Hell, the most terrifying enemies in the game feed off of sound.But that’s a point for another post, and I haven’t thought hard enough to make an articulate statement.

Still, that’s not what makes a story good. I feel as though I’m reaching the point where if I could explain why I would be bottling up what it means to create something this special, which would be a damn shame. Part of it has to do with the confidence Naughty Dog had, probably after creating three triple-A bestselling games for the system. Sony presumably gave them complete creative control in handling this project, because I can’t think of another publisher that would have been okay with such an ending. The ending is, again, nauseating, but I love it because it’s the logical conclusion to the characters we’ve seen building and growing. It’s incredible, and I can not wait to see if there will be a sequel, or at least, I cannot wait to hear the arguments for and against such a successor. 

This is such a great game.

New Abandon the Ship update!

http://abandontheship.tumblr.com/post/51569146197/thirsty-thursday-featuring-between-a-rock-and-a-hard

I should really start updating this website too, as soon as I’ve figured everything out.

Blog stuff is just silly.