Summer's long. I've spent this whole time working out, lifting weights, trying to learn a little bit of martial arts. My body has become more pliant, and as its capacities expand I can work it harder and harder. Exercise has replaced videogames as my summer leisure activity, and I feel a little smug about it. But I need to remain focused on performance-related goals rather than trying to improve my appearance. That way lies a certain flavor of madness, plus a host of body-image issues I don't think I'm ready to tackle on my own. I've made it as far as I have by staring at my feet and concentrating on the ground in front me. I worry that looking to the horizon will just make me trip and fall.
Summer's long. The few games that interested at its outset have withered in this fucking heat. Crackdown 2 was an exquisite disappointment, true royalty among phoned-in cash-ins. It sucked. Played a little of Prince of Persia: Fuck The Reboot. It was okay, but the sort of okay where you think about playing it once every two weeks, then become bored halfway through that thought and take a nap. Tried the newly translated Tales game for the DS, but my shoulder buttons are busted, so that's out. I've been playing a whole lot of Ancient Domains of Mystery, my favorite roguelike and my ultimate fallback game. Right now, I'm playing a dark elven archer. Yeah!
The internet is a catalyst for subcultures, lowering the amount of energy needed to give something an audience. I know it's better for me to ignore it, but straight up: I'm sick of anything that calls itself 8-bit, unless it's RushJet1. I think of 8-bit anything like I think of steampunk: visually interesting in small doses, but a little goes a long-ass way. Seems more like a catch-all cash-in for late 80s nostalgia brewing in the mid-20s demographic than an actual interesting movement. Also, it gets my goat when a sprite that's clearly in an SNES/Genesis/TG16 resolution is dubbed "8-bit." Come on, do the math! 16 bits, not 8! Genesis does what Nintendon't.
Perhaps the deeper truth is that I don't like the sophisticate branch of game culture. Y'know, art platformers with a statement, zines about how Nintendo taught you what real disappointment was, and endless ruminations on the sin of reviewing a game when you could critique it. It is a fecal Ourobouros, endlessly chasing its tail down the drain.
Summer's long. The hours stretch on even longer when the oven's at 500ยบ. There's nowhere in my apartment I can escape that hateful heat, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make for delicious pizzas. I've been endlessly refining my technique, iterating on my sauce, and trying for the love of God to get the pizza onto the stone without fucking it up royal. My kitchen is the forge, my pizza stone is the anvil, and I am aiming to create a culinary Masamune. I'm not there yet, and I don't want to talk up my product more than it can handle, but I'm proud that I've created something tasty on my own.
Summer's looooooooong. I've been on a quest to get in a pool since June. I've been so sweaty, and every time I sweat I think about being underwater. Next Thursday ... WATER PARK. I'm fucking psyched.
*I was gonna format this as a numbered list, but I was worried it would be pretentious. Then I read a post on someone else's blog that did the same thing, and I hated it. I guess I'll just have to display my pretension in other ways!
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
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