The August 1st gallery is up! A new panaramic of Juanita Greenberg’s Nacho Royale, too!

We headed down to downtown Charleston today, and after finding somewhere to park,
we headed over to “King St”, a pretty cool Bardstown-Road-esque section of town with
little shops and whatnot. Between the Gospel music stores, and aging relics of 1960′s
commerce there were cool little shops and restaurants, like Atomic Comics and Juanita
Greenberg’s Nacho Royale.
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Atomic Comics was a nicely laid-out, reasonably adult (not adult-oriented, but mature
comics and graphic literature) oriented comic shop. Plenty of neat stuff there. After
most of us made purchases (kelly a new lunchbox-style purse, Hunter a number of graphic
novels, and Jessica an issue of PowerPuff Girls comic), we headed to Juanita Greenberg’s
Nacho Royale. A cool little nacho/taco salad/pseudo Mexican restaurant that was really
skinny and long. The decor was kick-ass — replete with neat 1960′s bowling alley lighting,
wooden tables, and an old school bar. It was real cool. Kelly and I split a Chicken Nacho
Royale, which was more like a pizza thing, with nacho toppings. Very tasty, and with a
Corona with lime on the side, it was all good. The food really wasn’t spec-freaking-tacular,
but it was better than La Bamba in Louisville (and that isn’t real great). The surroundings
and overall laid-back atmosphere was good enough for a weekly visit. (It was cool enough
that I actually bought their t-shirt, and I don’t do that too often).

We headed towards Factor V (five), which was a neat little user-clothing/record/piercing
shop. Jessica had considered getting her nose pierced, though I think she couldn’t get
up the courage to do it (which is perfectly fine). There are plenty of good piercing
shops in Louisville, and coupled with the fact that you can’t get tattooed in Charleston
(apparently due to a hepatitis outbreak in the 1960′s), I think she decided to do it a little
closer to home.

Later on, we walked to the Market, which is a pretty cool 3 or four blocks of old-style
markets. Lots of crafty stuff, and most of the businesses around the market are obviously
catering to the tourist crowd. The blocks radiating around the Market were much more
inviting to me, as there is apparently a University downtown. Neat little shops on cramped
streets. Apartments mixed with neat little independent shops, college kids selling italian
ice from refrigerated carts, neat neat neat. Oh, a 2 bedroom, 2 bath 3rd floor walk-up is
apparently $1800/mo. That’s nutty.

We then went out to the Waterfront park. It was a manicured 2 or 3 acre plot, with a
dock that extended out into the Cooper River (Charleston proper is bounded by the Cooper and
another river whose name escapes me at the moment). The wind was so stiff that most of the
birds we saw struggled against the wind, barely maintaining altitude.

Some in our party were ready to head back to the cars to relieve the stress off their feet.
However, we had one last place to find — The Arcade. As we wound through tiny side-streets
and an alley or two, we stumbled upon The Arcade. Wow! It looked cool from the outside,
anyway. There was a burnt-out sign atop the building, with “The Arcade” spelled out in
lights. It sort of looked like an out-of-place motel, really. It was in a U-shape, with
the doors at the “bottom” of the U, and in the center, a little veranda. It looked very
run-down, and yet cool at the same time. Hunter and Nick ventured into the open doors,
and found… NOTHING! No one. Very strange. Next door, we find the University Laser
Physics Lab. Very odd. Well, “The Arcade” was a wash, but a cool decadent wash at that.

The route back to the islands was through the most run-down section of town, and it was
interesting to see the signature Charleston architecture in ruins, the single-room wide
apartments with screened porches on the outside acting at the halls. In fact, all of
downtown Charleston seemed very decadent. It was definitely the “black” section of town,
and was gentrified sometime after World War II. The Gospel music store next to the
University hangout, next to the chain coffee shop was a little disconcerting, but it’s
better than the segregated south we’ve all come to know and hate.

Charleston was much larger and much more sophisticated than I had expected. It still
retained much of the “charm” and opulence of the Old South, and yet had a sense of
progress forward. Color me impressed.

Again, the new gallery is up.

The beach again. The weather has changed considerably. Very nice today. Very hot. Real hot. Most of us are sun-burned, and mottled with said sunburn, in fact. Apparently, unlike Kentucky sun, if you don’t cover each and every nook and veritable cranny on your body, you will burn in those varied places. That little place on your back you couldn’t reach? It looks like a Three Stooges inspired iron-burn. Your legs that you’d thought you covered? Sun-streaked and burning. Your toes? Well, let’s not even mention the toes.

More below! Read on! Really!
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That aside, I went walking a ways down the beach, and stopped to watch some guy teaching kids how to surf. It was pretty cool. The surf culture has always intrigued me, I guess. That mix of zen-philosophy and sport is pretty neat. Always looking for that perfect wave, awash in natures fury, but able to swim back to shore. I never really regarded it as an “extreme sport”, but a “lazy sport”, really. I know you have to possess some sort of physical agility and prowess for balance, but it looks very relaxing.

I was all covered up with sunscreen, hat, and t-shirt, but I still got a little burned through my t-shirt. It was really hot (or so i thought). The sand had finally dried enough to retain heat, and we only lasted about 2 hours out there. We went back, feeling spent and burnt, and most everyone ended up taking a nap. Nick said it felt a little wasteful doing so, but hell, I’m on vacation, and considering that I only get 5-6 hours of sleep a night, I’m happy to nap.

Oh, “What’s up with the ‘Nature Tests Us’ in the title?” you say. Well, it seemed that the sea, and frankly, Mother Nature was angered with some of us this morning. Kelly was stung by a jellyfish, Jessica was stung by a sting-ray of some ilk, and Hunter was attacked by fire ants (while walking, I might add). I was bitten by a mosquito. Kelly also saw a dead jellyfish washed up on the beach. “I thought ‘Did someone spill some Jell-o?’” said Kelly. None of us had a good explanation of where the brain is on a jellyfish. I wasn’t sure either. It’s all brain. It’s all gooey.

Kelly here: i had always heard that jellyfish stings are painful. i didn’t realize that it would be the sort of hot, sharp pain that made me expect to see something still attached when i lifted my leg out of the water, running towards (the best one can run while in knee deep water) jessica and eve, all the while shouting that that there was something in the water, it had gotten me, and fuck, it hurt (jess and i had gotten lightly attaked by something else unseen earlier, but it was not nearly as painful). the damn thing not only got me next to my knee, but when i lifted my leg to see what the hell was trying to kill me, it then decided that my ankle and foot were fair game too. i was tempted to try the home remedy of peeing on myself to alleviate the pain, but there were many families around.

that’s why later, when i came across the dead kin of the one that got me, i felt vindicated by poking it with a stick.

Eve: I, sadly, missed out on the stinging action today, but not all was a loss. Hunter and I had our third anniversary today. I got some rockin new cds, and we have sipper cups of daquiris for the beach. Vacations are great.

First off, the new gallery is up, with a panoramic shot, too!

Well, today we got up reasonably early (around 9:30 or so), as we all turned in about 11pm last night. It was raining, but that shortly cleared up, and the weather turned all beautiful! It was great. A stiff north-west wind blew across the beach at about 20-40mph the whole day! It was pretty nutty. Our umbrellas turning inside-out, the whole deal. Swimmy swimmy, nappy nappy, it was very nice. There is something very peaceful about sitting on the beach with the waves lapping close by. My feet in the sun, my head under the shade of the umbrella. A cool head and warm feet is the crux of good health, according to “ancient Chinese medicine”. I’d have to think they are right. Ahhh…

Well, no one is feeling up to adding anything to this story, so more later!

Greetings from Isle of Palms, South Carolina!

We drove 10 hours straight through, threw our stuff into the beach house (too cool, btw!), and proceeded straight to the beach. Awe-some. I love the beach. Who doesn’t? The vast unchartedness of it all. We saw dolphins, or sharks dressed up like dolphins, we played in the sand, Kelly got real dirty, etc.

More later! Real tired.

The Gallery for Today!

Hey all! MaxMok (aka Garrett Barkley Spillman) has bought and subsequently reviewed Max Payne, what appears to be the kick-ass game of the year (so far). A hard-ass New York copper with no family (thanks to the Mafia!), with great noir-esque storytelling, a robust and Matrix-esque playing environment. Sounds cool. Anywho, read Gary’s review below
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I bought Max Payne yesterday. Normally, I never buy computer games, much less software of any kind if I can’t help it. In this case – I couldn’t help it.
Basically, Max Payne is John Woo’s wet dream wrapped in a windows-compatible video game.

You play Max – hard-boiled New York cop with a dead wife, dead child, hatred for the mafia that killed them and currently being employed by the DEA as an undercover agent posing as a mob thug in order to bring down a large drug ring.
Oh – did I mention Max, having lost his entire family, has shit to lose and therefore, gives fuck-all about blowing holes in people with high-caliber firearms?

So… Isn’t this like… Soldier of Fortune meets Serpico? Not really.
The game is a 3D, 3rd person shooter. Much like tomb raider however with better camera angles and a hero not built like a brick house.
Furthermore, to distinguish Max Payne from previous shooter games – the game is frighteningly realistic. From the chrome on a car bumper, to the snow falling, to the cracked tiles in the subway, to the bloodstains on your meaty, cop hands – the hardware T&L and the modeling as well as motion-capture are the best I have seen in any PC game to date. I mean, shit looks real – Max looks and moves like you or I would (albeit, a little more angular and much more surly). The endless hordes of mafia thugs, placed in the game for the sole purpose of getting shot multiple times by you even have this air of individuality. The game engine goes as far as to randomly generate the models and textures of the thugs as so its possible that each and every thug has a slight bit of distinction from the last guy you plugged full of lead (providing you have that feature set active in the game options and you openGL hardware can deal with it).

Oh – did I mention the Bulletime ™ ?

Oh yes – this game has Bulletime ™ and its yours to command. You see, the designers of this games are a bunch of Scandinavians – who we know to have frequent and easy access to all kinds of drugs from across the borders in Holland. Take that in account and the fact that these gifted programmers have a penchant for watching lots and lots of Hong Kong action movies and have probably seen the Matrix 23 time already and masturbate to the quarterly Heckler & Koch firearms catalog. Now you may have an idea of what direction this game takes. By the way, this goes without saying but this has to be the most violent game I have ever played.

The game mechanics are easy to understand and take forever to master. The game is broken up into chapters, which are then broken up into episodes. Plot and story are interjected between killing and rampaging though stylized graphic art sketches, giving the game an overall comic/graphic novel appearance. The levels play out just like an action movie. Its easy to imagine Max Payne being translated into a feature film starring Bruce Willis and a shitload of Eurotrash terrorists. The level puzzles are about as oblique as the plot to many an action flick – “Bad guys coming up the stairs, doors are locked, hmmm… I know – I’ll shoot and the window and jump for it! Yeah!” The rest is elementary – ratatatat yo.

The real meat and cheese of this game is of course, the shootouts. As much of an action movie this game emulates, you’d think this would be cake, especially on the introductionary difficulty level. This is not so. Max can only soak up so much damage before he keels over in a spiraling 3D death throe and the difference between a flesh wound and instantaneous death is evident in the games physics. In other words, aim for the head… Because the other guys are aiming for yours.
The best the game gets is of course, the firefights. The first major gun battle of the game takes place in a NYC subway station. In most FPS I’ve played, the formula is simple – walk in, pick off guys or more aptly, run in and dismantle opponents with a blaze of assorted guns and ammo. In the middle of the mayhem, there’s pretty bump-mapped and light-sourced scenery for which to feast your eyes upon. It’s a kind of laid back firefight. This is not at all the case with Max Payne. I made the sad mistake of trying to take in the rich, geourgous and realistic scenes of the dirty substation control room, despite the fact that there’s a horde of bad guys with bad dispositions and itchy trigger fingers. Oh shit – I’m dead already!?

And that’s the frustrating part of this game. Unlike John McClane – you’re not bulletproof and your ass will die… Many, many, many times. Often in the same spot.

This however, I feel is the intended design put forth by the programming team. Each battle is an action set piece. The real game is to figure out how to execute stunts and use Bulletime ™ to keep from getting killed. Let me paint you a gory picture.

I walk up to the door of the substation control room. I open and upon entry, there are six armed thugs waiting in the room. The thugs do not waste time, nor catchy but ultimately bad jokes, they just go for the sawed off shotguns and glocks they be packin’.
I however am armed with two 9mm Barettas, which in HK terms would make me a walking god. In this case, I guess you could see it that way. I hit the Bulletime ™ switch and everything goes all Matrixy as I dive headlong over as desk, firing at anyone in the room. Shots fly out, leaving little slow-mo vortexes behind them. I take a shot in the arm just before I hit the ground and roll. Its pretty easy after I get to my feet, as I dodge multiple rounds from the gangsters. The important thing here is to keep moving. If you stand still, you will surly die. At this point, I am actually, physically screaming, “die motherfuckers, die!” as I Bulletime ™ my way around some poor schmuck while I unload an entire clip into his chest. Keeping with the Hong Kong traditions – ammo is as plentiful as water in this game. I go though 78 rounds in seconds. All 6 gangsters are really, truly and utterly dead. I’m not. Woo haa!

To conclude – this is the best PC game I’ve played all year. If you like gun violence, the Matrix, Dirty Harry and Hong Kong action cinema, just go buy the game today at your local retailer.

What follows below (clicky on the MORE) is an AIM conversation I had Tuesday night with a mis-directed the Locust fan. Turns out, she’s 15. She likes Weezer, too, but anyway, I digress. At the same time I was having a conversation with Hunter and Najati. It all turned out pretty funny…

Read on for the full transcript

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So, in my traverses and conversations today, I’ve stumbled upon a number of really, really spectacular Flash sites worth checking out.

First off, Ninjai is a multi-chapter Flash story that is really well done. It’s akin to Ninja Scroll with the wandering ninja / fighting in trees / lots of blood sorta feel, but this is far and above most Flash that you see. I love the idea that people are attempting to tell fluid, complete stories. The technology has certainly evolved to that point anyway.

The second one (and perhaps even more spectacular than Ninjai is Broken Saints, which is a HUGE 24-part graphic novel that is being developed entirely in Flash. I’ve only watched one part of the story (the chapters are about 20 minutes long), but the imagery and storytelling is rather wonderful. The site itself leads to at least what could be a good hour of poking around, too. What sets this one apart from Ninjai is that most of the art in Broken Spirits is hand-drawn, which gives is a fuller edge than that of Ninjai, which is computer drawn and designed (mostly).

Many dismissed Flash in it’s early days as trite, silly, and not functional enough to warrant necessity. While in it’s early stages, much of that was true, but HTML wasn’t exactly beautiful around 1995 either! Both things, and the technology surrounding the Internet in general have progressed by leaps and bounds, and this is the outcome.

Oh, yeah, let us not forget MiniGolf

I thought about doing some long, drawn out review of Rufus Wainright‘s music, but I’m not gonna.

Imagine, if you will, a velvelty Thom Yorke voice blended with a little of the Wallflower’s groove and a dash of Beck absurdity.

It’s rather beautiful. I suggest a couple of tracks — “Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk” (from his new album, Poses). “Instant Pleasure” from the Big Daddy Soundtrack (i know), and “Hallelujah” from the Shrek soundtrack.

Najati and I (Ben) had a little impromptu spontaneous conversation regarding the “Use of Bad Words”. Seeing as how we are both not English scholars, or even remotely personable (hehe), then you should take these to heart.

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(13:33:16) veggiebuddha: rule #1: bad words are funny
(13:33:21) BenCorvus: yes
(13:33:34) BenCorvus: rule #2: a bad word will ALWAYS make you cool
(13:34:41) veggiebuddha: rule #3: you girlfriend’s parents will be impressed with you if you use bad words
(13:35:19) BenCorvus: rule #4: resumes are always given that little extra “spice” when bad words are used generously!
(13:36:24) veggiebuddha: rule #5: and when interviewing be sure to accent your intelligence with strategically placed bad words
(13:37:03) BenCorvus: rule #6: a bad word will always bring a smile to a baby (or small child)’s face
(13:37:31) BenCorvus: wowee wow wow
(13:38:33) veggiebuddha: rule #7: pet owners (especially parrots) love it when you praise their pets with bad words, over and over again
(13:39:14) BenCorvus: rule #8: bad words, when cleverly misspelled within popular sayings ALWAYS make for appealing and commercially viable outerwear.
(13:39:31) BenCorvus: eg (GUCKIN FONUTS!)
(13:40:53) veggiebuddha: rule #9: when meeting new people embellish your name and job with bad words
(13:41:06) veggiebuddha: eg Najfuckinati
(13:41:35) BenCorvus: funny stuff
(13:42:31) veggiebuddha: alright, we need one more for ten even, then we can publish them
(13:42:57) BenCorvus: rule #9b – interjecting dirty words within phrases, or in between compound words will always win you praise eg(“she fucking kicked me into the dog-fuckin-house”)
(13:43:58) veggiebuddha: =
(13:44:18) veggiebuddha: thats was a dirty dirty trick
(13:44:29) BenCorvus: huh?
(13:44:35) veggiebuddha: 9b <-
(13:44:39) BenCorvus: soirry
(13:44:43) BenCorvus: it is an extension
(13:46:02) BenCorvus: rule 10: women, or perhaps even someone of an attractible sex enjoy bad words especially mixed with lavish adornments of romantic wooing. eg(“i want to fuck you slowly, i want fuck you softly”).
(13:46:15) veggiebuddha: lol!!
(13:46:20) veggiebuddha: okay, we can publich no
(13:46:23) veggiebuddha: w*
(13:47:28) veggiebuddha: brb
(13:47:58) BenCorvus: send me the HTML log of that in an email.
(13:48:02) BenCorvus: if you would

Overheard:

We create platforms to collect, interpret and report integrated business assumptions, identify performance benchmarks, anticipate market trends and movement and accurately measure performance, premium adequacy, quality/value, expense management and allocations.

The day I hear a “mission statement” that doesn’t sound like a load of crap will be the day I die. In fact — “Welcome to Heaven — where we proactively integrate our clients neural realtionships with fifth-generation sygergistics!”. Now THAT is a mission-statement.