Starcraft 2: Heart of the Swarm

In the week since it's release, I have seen surprisingly little from my friends about the new Zerg expansion to Starcraft 2, the Kerrigan-focused Heart of the Swarm. Probably because they're all so busy playing it. If you know any Starcraft franchise fans, you know that they're probably knee-deep in empty Coke cans whenever the newest game comes out - especially when this one has been so long in the making.

This new installment in the well-beloved series revolves around Sarah Kerrigan, freshly rescued from being the Queen of Blades by our well-known and lovable hero Jim Raynor. She wakes up alone in a cell under the scrutiny of Valerian Mengsk. They want to make sure she won't return to the Swarm. That she really has become human again.

First, let me just say that this game is beautiful. We've come to expect this from Blizzard - and games in general now - but still, it is definitely worth noting that this game is gorgeous to look at. I wish they made animated films that looked as wonderful as this. Dramas, action-thrillers, westerns - anything could look good with the animation they use in this game's cut-scenes.

What I also very much like is it creates more characters within the Zerg swarm, such as those on board Kerrigan's ship. Abathur, for example, who is the resident Swarm editor. He is terrifying and robotic and familiar and wonderful from his dialogue to the voice acting to the model.
And not to mention the veritable bevvy of named Hive Queens that Kerrigan meets.

What's even more interesting, is that by having these characters, it humanizes the Zerg somewhat, which I suppose was the point - especially in Kerrigan's "re-education" of a certain Hive Queen.

One thing that I fear is that the game will be all too short and perhaps even a little bit too easy, but then again I haven't reached the final missions yet, being too distracted with that time-consuming and money-providing endeavour called "work". 

The price was also right for this game, set at a nice $44 (AUD) which marks it as an expansion in the same vein as the old Brood War. If you liked Wings of Liberty, you'll like this. The only bad part so far, is they haven't fixed the whole "we don't do LAN anymore" thing. And also, the annoying thing that buying the game in hard copy doesn't mean you get to install the game from the disc, it just has the downloader on there so you don't have to download it. It still installs the game by downloading it from online. You've been warned.

Mahalo.

The Year of Doing Things

A lot of people make New Year's resolutions. They make decisions that, in the new year, they will better themselves by quitting smoking, working out more, getting a girlfriend, losing a boyfriend, anything that they truly believe will shift the course of their lives. And to those people who stick to them, I salute you.

I don't like to make resolutions because I find that I don't really have anything to say other than "be better than last year". This year, however, is different. I've given my year a progress bar and a name. The Year of Doing Things. I am going to do things this year. All of them. All the things.

In the past, I've been either too lazy or too discouraged to go out and make the things I want happen. This year, I want to do things. I want to make at least two short films. I will post more music of my own creation to my YouTube page; maybe even poetry and spoken word readings. I will finish screenplays and work towards getting them made. I will get a literary agent. I will start acting again. I will go out to open mics and story nights and tell stories. I will become better at art. I will get my comic started up again.

I need to do these things or I will become lazy and fail. This will not happen.

Mahalo.

And that's Week 9...

...and what a week it was!

All in all, not a bad one. I started one story only to realize, after a discussion with my fellow Bradbury Method partner, that it could be taken to all of these wonderful places and would be far too long to be able to finish this week.

Luckily, though, I had a half-finished piece from last week that I hadn't had the energy to really look at. Fortunately for me, this week was better for it. Nailed it to the wall tonight. That felt good.

Mahalo.

The Third Week

Holy mackerel has the time just flown by! It's already the end of the third week of The Bradbury Method, although it feels like it's been going forever. I managed to punch out a short, short story which I'm quite pleased with and with the help of Luke and Omar I managed to make it even better. So, thanks a LOT to those guys for putting up with my pestering.
I'm so pleased with it, actually, then I'm going to send it off to a mag shortly, once I've gone over it for the bajillionth time.

It's tough actually sitting down and finding time to write at the moment, what with life being what it is with all its necessary insanities. If anyone wants to read them, feel free to contact me with your email in the comments - or, if I know you, just get in touch with me however.

Back to it! BRARGH!

Mahalo.

The Second Week

Today brings a conclusion to the second week of The Bradbury Method and the start of the third. It's tough, this deal. Making me realize some things about the style of short story that I write. I know the types I like to read and obviously there is a certain imitation to the styles of those in search of my own voice. Etgar Keret and Joe Hill have been particular inspirations, as I'm sure I've mentioned before. And Raymond Carver. Neil Gaiman. Charles Bukowski.

Short pieces of fiction that are not only self-contained but satisfying in their own way. I've realized about myself that I don't write very long short stories. Now, I know it may seem counter-intuitive to have a "long short story" but it's not, really. A short story can go anywhere, it seems, from 500 to 15,000 words. After that, it's really a novella. My peak seems to be anywhere up to and including about 3000 words. Anything longer than that and I feel I might as well make it a damn book. I don't even really like reading short stories that are more than about ten pages. I like them short. That's why I like Keret and Bukowski especially - easy bite-sized chunks of interesting dialogue and happenstance.

I wrote a story on the first day of this week. One I'm pretty happy with. I think I might chop off the ending; I think I just wrote the last paragraph because I felt the story was too short but it doesn't really fit. Some parts in the middle could maybe use some expanding or made to flow better, but it's there on paper. It's written. That's two for two so far. I have to start a new one tonight or at least sometime this week. I have the idea, at least.

Mahalo.

The Aurora Massacre is NOT a Religious Debate

If you've been keeping up with the news, you know about the Aurora Massacre shootings in Colorado. If you don't, then a) read the news every now and then and b) it's the story of a guy, James Holmes, who waited outside a movie theatre in Colorado and gunned down a crowd going in for a midnight session of The Dark Knight Rises. 12 people were killed and 58 were wounded: men, women and children. As police arrested him, he announced "I'm the Joker!" It's likely the man is a little off-balance.

It's a national tragedy for Americans, one of the worst mass shootings in American history. It's called to the fore opinions and discussions on gun control - Holmes was armed with about four guns, some of which were rapid fire, and 6000 rounds of ammunition he had acquired completely legally. It has nothing at all to do with religion.

Then I saw this story.

In case you can't read it, that is a story about Loonies-in-Residence the Westboro Baptist Church, otherwise known as the "God Hates Fags" protesters, declaring that they will "super picket" the prayer vigils for the victims of the massacre. The announced this on Twitter with hastags like #ThankGodForTheShooter and #godsenttheshooter.
Reddit users and the Denver Comic Con urged people to join in on a "wall of Love" to prevent the WBC from reaching the vigil.

Now, this may seem pretty in keeping with what the WBC does if you know anything about them - and they've been in the media a lot. But, then Jerry Newcombe joined the crazy brigade, telling people that this happened because "America has lost its fear of hell", going on to say that only the Christians amongst the dead were going to heaven, and that "if [they don't] know Jesus Christ.. if they knowingly rejected Jesus Christ, then, basically, they are going to a terrible place". Oh yeah, because that's what they're loved ones want to hear, you bastard!
He then used some of his airtime to springboard into telling people that in light of this awful tragedy, now would be a good time to become a Christian and confess your sins because, who knows, YOU COULD BE NEXT!

Right on the heels of that, Holmes' old pastor came out and said that Holmes was always "a shy boy who was driven to succeed academically".  Okay, I know that people need some perspective on this guy to try and understand his actions, but why did they ask his pastor? He even said he hasn't spoken to Holmes in six years! SIX YEARS! A lot can change then, Pastor!


Holmes is now receiving death threats from other inmates. When they brought him in he was "dressed up like the Joker, 'acting crazy' and 'spitting on guards'";

“All the inmates were talking about killing him," just-released inmate Wayne Medley told the Daily News. "Everyone was looking for an opportunity. It’s all they could talk about."

So, I guess even the prisoners don't like him. Because he did something horrendous. Not because of anything religious, they want to kill him because he's a dick. Religion has no place in the arena of this case and it is doing nothing but hurt the families of the injured and deceased.

Mahalo.

The Dark Knight Rises: Gotham's Reckoning

Since the end of The Dark Knight, like any fan, I have been eagerly anticipating The Dark Knight Rises. It was like seeing The Empire Strikes Back and waiting so long to know the end of the story as it comes in Return of the Jedi. I don't think I could make this paragraph any geekier. Sufficed to say, I was excited.

I was concerned though, too, that I was hyping myself up too much and that - because my expectations were so high - I would ruin the movie for myself. It's the same trap we all fall into for a highly anticipated movie - especially a sequel to a much loved film.

In all honesty, however, I was not disappointed. The sheer scale of TDKR is one of the things I found so astonishing. Christopher Nolan said he wanted to make a large scale film in the behind-the-scenes featurette and how he has prevailed.

In the film, Gotham is about to get its comeuppance by criminal mastermind Bane (Tom Hardy). Batman (Christian Bale) has been off the streets for 8 years in the wake of Harvey Dent's (Aaron Ekhart) death in The Dark Knight. Commissioner Gordon (Gary Oldman) is the only one who knows the truth and is tortured by it. Meanwhile, hothead cop and idealist Officer Blake (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is on the streets, believing that Gotham needs the Batman again.

Anne Hathaway does a magnificent job as Catwoman - the best ever rendering of the character on film to date. She embodied the sensuality, the slyness and the violence that accompanies the character in the comics, and did so without ever making one bad cat pun, or purring.

This was definitely Christian Bale's best Batman performance, starting with a weakened Bruce Wayne and back into the swing of Batman. He portrayed a depth and brooding to the character that was remarkable.

But truly, my hat must be tipped to Tom Hardy. His performance as Bane was not only magnificent, but terrifying. Those who have read the comics know what Bane can do and has done. He is a monster of the highest calibre, and Tom Hardy did not disappoint. Honestly, if the track was laid down by Heath Ledger for his performance as the Joker, it's all set for Hardy to receive his own Oscar nomination (at least).

This film was so epic in scale, it was mind-boggling. The sheer number of extras required, the amount of story that occurred, character arcs coming to conclusion! The sheer Dr. Zhivago-esque grandeur of the film is unmistakeable.

If you are a comic book fan - and I speak as one - thenthis movie was pretty perfect. Elements of Batman: Knightfall, The Dark Knight Returns and Gates of Gotham. A glance of some of the comics that influenced Nolan during filming are outlined here. Even if you're not a comic book fan and merely enjoyed the first two movies, this film will not disappoint you. It is a fitting ending to the trilogy and does so in a way that we've come to expect from Christopher Nolan. 9/10

Mahalo.

The First Week

It's the end of the first week of the Bradbury Method - 52 short stories in a year - and so far, things are actually going pretty well. The point of the...experiment I guess is the best word, is to just get the stories out, not necessarily have them polished.

So, on that front, I'm succeeding. While I didn't allow myself as much writing time as I would've liked this week, I still managed to churn out what I consider to be a pretty good - if unpolished - short story. It needs some tweaks and some expansion on certain points, but I got out the beginning, middle and ending.

Amusingly enough, it wasn't the story I initially sat down to write. I started writing it and got a page or so in when I had to drop it because I had started it in my Gmail drafts at work when there was nothing to do and then I left for home. I don't have the internet at home so it was a few days before I finally got it off the email to be able to work on it at home. By the time I did that, I had completely forgotten the road I was originally going to take with the story.

I just stared at it. For what seemed like an hour. Just looking at this thing I had written that clearly started with some intent and then just stopped. It stopped on an important, twist moment, too. One that I didn't remember where I was taking it.

So, I made something else up. I took up the tattered bottom of the story and I stitched it up with something new and came up with a pretty appropriate ending for the story. What's great about this, is that I've rarely ever done this before. Usually, if I start a short story and come back to it some time afterward and I've forgotten what exactly I had originally intended, I leave it and start something else. Not this time. I swore to myself if I started a story, I would finish it. And I did. And it felt good.

I've been reading a lot of Etgar Keret recently as well and he showed me that no matter how bizarre the idea is, it can totally work in the story as long as the language is good enough and the story takes you somewhere deep. Also, that it doesn't matter how short the story is.

Okay. I got this. Maybe.

Mahalo.

io9 Concpet Writing Prompt!

Io9 run a segment where they post a piece of concept art and users are encouraged to write the story behind it. This week's image is "The Night Train," by Ryan Mauskopf. I decided to finally give this a go.


The Night Train


Mika looked into the drink can.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" she asked. "We need to be unrecognizable to the Underrealm folk."

Rick snuffled a snort-filled response and she looked over. Where he'd once sat, there was now a towering mound of hair, a great animal that looked both strong and kind. He shuffled the briefcase on his lap and snuffled again.

"Oh," Mika said.

She turned to Red and where his head had been was now smoke and fire, a cone of radiating heat. He turned to Mika and gave an attempt at a smile.

"Right," Mika took a sip from the drink. "I guess here goes nothing."

Trapped in the Hells

So. Like (almost) every other gamer on the planet right now, I purchased and have begun playing the long-anticipated Blizzard game, Diablo III - the sequel 12 years in the making after the ridiculously successful Diablo II.

I, for one, absolutely adore the universe and the gameplay in these games. The world is filled with interesting characters, the missions are intriguing and the monsters are grotesque and evil. You, as hero, stand as the lone light of salvation in the doomed world.

Set 20 years after the events of Diablo II: Lord of Destruction, wherein the last of the three Prime Evils, Baal, is killed last after his brothers - Mephisto and the eponymous Diablo - were killed, the heroes must rise again to fend off the encroaching hell hordes. The last of the Lesser Evils have surfaced after a mysterious fireball smashes into the Earth and causes the dead to rise.

If you were one of the many who received their game on its May 15 release date, odds are, you were met with the various Error messages, informing you that you couldn't log on. The servers had crashed with the traffic.

"What?" you may ask. "How can the servers of a single player game crash?"
Good question. Let me tell you.

In a move that has royally pissed off more than a fair share of people, something which is concisely summed up in this article. The main problem being that, in an attempt to curtail piracy - which has run rampant in the gaming community for, well, ever - Activision/Blizzard have decided that you have to log in to the server to be able to play your game.

"Hell," you say, "that's not so bad! You have to do that for Starcraft II and it works just fine!"

Oh, but you see, for Starcraft II, you have the option to play offline. Not so with Diablo III. You must be online at all times with Diablo III. It's no longer a "single player game with an online/multiplayer option", it's an online single player game that has the option of being played alone. But never offline.

And god help you if you have anyone on your friends list, because they can just pop into your game whenever they please. Without asking. Just PING! and they're in. But, that's neither here nor there.

My main gripe is the fact that, as happened to me on Tuesday night, if their servers are down or if my internet just plain isn't working that day, I have paid $69 for a game that I can't play. I know this is the case with World of Warcraft or any other number of MMORPGs, but those are designed for online play. You play them, you accept that servers need maintenance and sometimes they're going to go offline. But, when I purchase a single player game, I expect to be able to play it whenever I damn well feel like.

This means that unless my train has wireless, I can't play on the train. I can't play at someone else's house who's internet I can't get into. I can't play anywhere where there is no internet. And that just shits me.

That said, it's a pretty damn great game.

Mahalo.

Stories from Nothing: The Family

The Catalyst:
There was a really serious, black-clad businesswoman walking in the opposite direction to me talking on her cellphone. As she passed all I heard was, "I don't want to see a family".

The Story:
"Did you hear me?"
The woman's heels clack-clack-clacked against the sidewalk in a steady rhythm. Silence met her on the other end of the line.
"Well?"
"Yes," came the raspy voice.  "Yes, I heard you."
"Good."
She hung up.

Not far from a family home, the man with the raspy voice climbed a local church tower. He whistled Ain't No Grave (Gonna Hold My Body Down) with a mournful gravity.
A small notched window gave him a clear line of sight to the family home up the road. Through his scope he could see into their dining room from the large plate-glass window on the east side. They always kept the curtains open.
He opened his briefcase and began clicking together the pieces of a Smith and Wesson sniper rifle.

John, his wife Sarah and their two children, Camille and Toby, were just sitting down to dinner when the first shot punched through their dining room window, his John in the chest and knocked him to the floor, a small geyser of blood shooting out of the wound.
Before Sarah could scream, before she could even react beyond looking at John's lifeless eyes as he lay on the floor, a second shot ripped open the front of her skull as the bullet struck the back of it.
Then the children started screaming.

When the man with the raspy voice begun separating the pieces of the rifle, Toby and Camille weren't screaming anymore. They were silent along with their parents as the dinner cooled with the breeze from the shattered window.

Stories from Nothing: The Proposal

Catalyst: 
A woman was proposed to at a table near my boss. While the husband was beaming, my boss and her friend were weeping and ordering champagne for these strangers, the bride-to-be did not look too enthused.

The Story:
The ride home was especially quiet that night. Mark was at the wheel and he was smiling into the horizon. He couldn't wait to get his new fiancee home. Fiancee. Man, he couldn't believe his luck. She had really said yes. He was so happy. The people next to them had bought them champagne, on top of the champagne he'd already ordered for the special occasion. He'd been planning this for weeks.
"You're awfully quiet," he said, turning to Brandi in the next seat. She was staring out of her window, looking at the long string of trees passing by on the side of the road. "How are you?"
"Jesus."
"What?" he said, his brow furrowing. "What's wrong?"
"This."
"This?"
"Yes! This!"
"I don't follow." A well of concern washed around in his brain.
"Of course you don't."
"Brandi, honey, what's wrong?"
They stopped at a red light, sitting there, the left blinker flashing on and off. Tick, tack, tick, tack, in a rhythm that never seemed to end.
"I don't want to marry you."
"What?"
"I don't want," she looked at him, now. Her blue eyes were cold. "To marry you."
"But," Mark felt his whole body open up beneath him in an empty zenith, "but then why did you say yes?"
"Are you kidding me?"
Mark only looked at Brandi, tears welling. She sighed.
"How could I say no?" she said. "We're in a restaurant full of people watching!"
"So?" Mark pushed the car forward. "You could have been honest with me."
"Oh really? And then, what? Said no and quietly slipped out of the restaurant, a carpet of silence following me as people say in hushed tones, 'how could she say no? He looks so lovely'!"
"So instead--"
"So instead," she cut him off, "I pretended to say yes so I could get out of there in one piece."
"Brandi, I--"
"Take me home," she was talking as if he wasn't there. "I'll come get my stuff in the morning."
The wind outside was colder than usual for summer.

Stories from Nothing: The Flower

Catalyst: L found a flower on the ground and put it in an open mailbox on the way home.

Story: The flower lay in the mailbox, unexposed to the elements, atop the Morgans' electricity bill. Laura and Richard came home at the same time and, as Richard parked the car, Laura would go out to the mailbox and retrieve whatever lay within.
Reaching her hand in today, she pulled out the still-crisp flower and stared at it.
"Richard!" she said, stomping into the house. "Richard, come here!"
"What?" Richard put his keys on the kitchen counter.
Laura held the flower out to him. "Someone put this in our mailbox."
"Who?"
"I don't know, Richard, why don't you tell me?"
"Honey, I don't know who would do that," Richard moved to her, to take the flower. "Where was it?"
"I told you it was in the mailbox!" she held it away from him. "Was it her, Richard? Was it her again?"
"Jesus, Laura," Richard said, turning away. "It's over with her. I ended it. You know that."
"Do I? Because this says different!"
"No it does--"
"She's coming back! She's putting things in our mailbox now!"
"We don't know for sure--"
"Don't be a child!" she threw the flower across the room. "Who else would it be?"
"It could by anyone!"
"Why would anyone put a flower in someone's mailbox?" Laura began to cry. "You bastard," she said, then. "You bastard."
"Who would do this to us?" Richard said to himself, under his breath. He sat at the kitchen table. "Why?"

Bad Religion Rock the Hi-Fi

Through the wind and the rain we ran, Lucy and I, towards Moore Park and into the Entertainment Quarter, heading towards the Hi-Fi. We were already late, due mostly in part to leaving later than expected, but also to ridiculously increased traffic as a result of the rain and the fact that rain seems to make the city completely shut down.

"We might miss both Street Dogs and Strung Out," I said. "But we should be there in time to catch Bad Religion start."

"We will," Lucy said. "If the timing's right, we might not even miss Strung Out. If there's three bands, then Bad Religion shouldn't go up before," she checks my watch, "nine fifteen or so."

"True."

This was to be her first punk show.

We get off the bus and arrive at the venue, changed from our original destination of the Big Top at Luna Park for unknown reasons. I'd never been to the Hi-Fi, but it's proximity to the Hordern Pavilion made it an easy find.

When we got there, the line didn't seem so long. It jutted out from the venue, loud bass drums and grungy guitars - from what I thought was Strung Out - audible and blaring from inside.

"I think this is the place," I said.

"Y'think?" Lucy smiled and elbowed me in the ribs.

We went to join the queue and that's when we saw that it extended around the corner of the place.

"God damnit," I said. "Brilliant."

It took twenty minutes of standing in the rain to finally get into the place, wrist stamped and position gained. The band we had heard from outside was finished. I went straight to the merch stall and got a t-shirt.

"Jesus riding a nuke down to the ground like from Strangelove," I said to Lucy, "or pig-headed priest leading the blind choir?"

Lucy stared for a moment. She used to be religious. "I know why you'd want the Jesus-nuke, but I think the pig-priest looks better. Either way, don't wear them in front of my parents."

"Deal."

I bought pig-priest. Lucy pointed at a list on the merch table. It was the band list. I checked my watch.

"We haven't even missed the Street Dogs," I said. "We missed the Menzingers. Oh, well there you go. Bad Religion don't come on til ten forty-five."

Lucy smiled. We staked out a place in the middle of the pit and waited. The lights dimmed after a quarter hour and the Boston boys, the Street Dogs, began to play. All in all, they weren't bad. A traditional punk band with Dropkick Murphys-like elements. A young band earning their stripes, really. The singer had not yet piqued our interest, so his many attempts to get us shouting and dancing were often to no avail, but they were not a bad band and definitely had potential.

When they had finished I squeezed through the throng back towards the bar to get water, making Lucy promise not to move or I'd never find her again. She's a small girl and it was a big crowd. I stumbled through and got a cup of water and came back just as Strung Out were starting.

I was just as equally unimpressed with Strung Out as I was the last time I saw them open for Bad Religion in 2007 for the New Maps of Hell Tour. They are a bland, loud band that is more like a wall of same-sounding noise without any particular style. Sufficed to say, I was bored. But the crowd seemed to like them, so I guess that counts for something.

At one point during a song the singer looked right at me and said, "Don't just stand there looking at me, move!" To which I softly replied, "nope".

They finished, mercifully, in the allotted time and left. It was time for the main event. The big cheeses of punk rock. With over 30 years experience and a 300+ song library to choose from, these guys were always amazing. I had seen them live. I had listened to the live albums. I had even watched live DVDs and clips from concerts uploaded online. I was pumped to see them again. We made our way right up to the front and waited.

And then the lights dimmed.

A roar of joy and anticipation exploded from the crowd as Jay Bentley came onstage and picked up his base. Brooks Wackerman sat down at his kit and Greg Hetson picked up his guitar, blind in the mild dark. Then Jay started to play, busting out the thudding baseline to "Fuck Armageddon...this is Hell". The crowd cheered as loud bellow. Brian Baker came on with his axe and finally, the kind, the commanding master of punk, the professor, Mr. Greg Graffin stepped onstage in his unabashedly and unashamedly uncool outfit of flannel shirt and jeans, pointed at us and then it started.

The crowd crushed forward and we were crushed. The bodies flailed around. Lucy could hardly believe her eyes at the crushing smashes of the pit and the circles. She moved along with them.

After the first three songs, we decided to make our way back and get to a safer distance. To do so, we had to pass through the pit, but we had to get out. We made it back. We could still see the band and could actually hear better from here anyway. I was shouting those lyrics like no one's business.

"Hear it", "Anesthesia", "You Are the Government", "Modern Man", "Generator", "You", "Sanity", all the old classics were there. "Wrong Way Kids" off of the latest alum, Dissent of Man, was there too. The group bantered on stage in their unassuming and experienced way, mostly from Graffin and Bentley.

Then they played the one song from The Empire Strikes First I so desperately wanted to hear, "God's Love".

"Some of you might know the set list already if you looked on the internet," Graffin said before "God's Love", "but no amount of sleuthing will have gotten you this song on there because we just added it to the set list backstage. We haven't even rehearsed it."

"See where your PC has gotten you now?" he sneered with a smile. "I'm sorry, I mean your Mac."

"No!" Bentley cried.

"Right," Graffin meandered around stage. "The innovator is dead so we have to respect him now. Write a 3000 page book about him."

And into the song they went.

The set was hard, fast and excellent.

 I slammed myself into the pit for "I Wanna Conquer the World" and got knocked around something fierce, but it was worth it. It's a community in those shows. A strange, bedraggled brotherhood.

"We're trying to release a new album this year," Graffin said. "Even though all you guys like is the old stuff."

"We're going for our first platinum record in 2013."

The group laughed. Pretty much an unachievable goal for a punk band and they knew it. At least, a punk band that wasn't in the style of Green Day or The Offspring.

The main set finished and the crowd began baying for the expected encore.

"We know you're not done yet!"

They weren't.

"You want one more song?" Jay Bentley said. "Well we're gonna play you four!"

And of course, of those four, one was "21st Century Digital Boy" and the grand finale, the great masterpiece, "American Jesus". The crowd - including me - went nuts for that final ten minutes.

Just as abruptly as it had begun, it was over. The lights went up and the people began to file out. Lucy and I grabbed some water and headed back out into the rain.

"That was fantastic," Lucy said as we walked, drenched, along Cleveland Street towards home. "My god, they're the best I've ever seen. Especially in that genre! How have no other bands cottoned on how to do it like that yet?"

"That's what makes them the best," I said. "They've got it going on. And they're so goddamn smart!"

Through the wind and the rain we went back, finally getting a cab back home and collapsing into bed at one thirty a.m. Worth it on a work night? You bet your arse.

Mahalo.

Search Terms

That awkward moment when some traffic comes to your blog from the search terms "screw my wife" and "the best screw of all time".

Sigh.

Maybe I should consider a name change? Yay or nay?

Mahalo.

The AMAZING Spider-Man

So I just had my second film nerdgasm of the week. Hopefully those of you keeping track of the upcoming superhero films are aware of the new Spiderman adaptation, The Amazing Spider-Man directed by the aptly named Marc Webb. If you are not then you must immediately check out the trailer.

Webb is a fairly unknown director, but you'd recognize his name if you've seen (500) Days of Summer or the video clip to Green Day's "Waiting".

Now, when I first heard tell of a new Spiderman film being made, I was skeptical. Skeptical because we had had three mediocre films prior to this in an attempt at a reboot of the franchise. Now, director Sam Raimi (Evil Dead) did a pretty good job with the first film - the origin story, of course - and Tobey Maguire did a fairly good job as nerd Peter Parker. Strangely, this does not equate to a great Spiderman.

The second film was sub-par and the third was an insult - especially to those legion of us who couldn't wait to see Venom finally on screen.

Because of all of this and more I was wary of the (gritty) rebooting of a franchise that was barely a decade old. Of course, it didn't help that there were rumours that Twilight star Robert Pattinson would be taking over Maguire's role as Peter Parker.

With the new trailer, however, there is hope. The Social Network's Andrew Garfield is playing the titular character, with Emma Stone playing his first love - not redhead Mary-Jane but blonde Gwen Stacy. That's right, folks, they're sticking to the comics!

The film seems to be taking its source material very seriously, and I couldn't be happier. And yes, they are making the web-slinging a result of the Parker-made web shooters - not from glands on his wrists! Hurray! Accuracy!

Finally, I am looking forward to Spiderman again!

Mahalo.

Robert Kirkman vs. Tony Moore Over Walking Dead

So here it is, the newest insanity to come out of the film news press; artist Tony Moore is suing former collaborator and childhood friend Robert Kirkman over proceeds and royalties for The Walking Dead. Moore is claiming that he was "swindled" by Kirkman into signing over his interest in The Walking Dead TV series and now isn't receiving any royalties.

Let's ignore the fact that Moore didn't believe that the TV series would take off and so willingly put forward the contract he is now in to give Kirkman the rights to the show and its proceeds. Moore also stopped drawing, inking and grey-toning the comic book series after issue SIX, being replaced by artist Charlie Adlard (who continues to do the series). Sure, Moore continues to do the covers and is owed for this work, but he has not been "swindled" out of anything.

Kirkman told the Hollywood Reporter:

The lawsuit is ridiculous, we each had legal representation seven years ago and now he is violating the same contract he initiated and approved and he wants to misrepresent the fees he was paid and continues to be paid for the work he was hired to do. Tony regularly receives payment for the work he did as penciler, inker and for gray tones on the first six issues of The Walking Dead comic series and he receives royalties for the TV show, to assert otherwise is simply incorrect.

Kirkman is also, let's not forget, the creator of the series - as all the inside comic-book credits point out - and Moore as responsible for "penciler, inker, gray tones".

So, the story seems to be that the creator of the franchise was approached about making a TV show out of his comic book. The artist and collaborator didn't believe in the project and put forward the contract within which they are currently bound - in which he does receive royalties from the TV show. The show then becomes a sensation and the creator is shot forward into fame and fortune and the artist feels he was swindled.

I'm sorry, but that is simply ridiculous. I cannot believe someone with Moore's talent and reputation would have the gall to put forward such a lawsuit and damage himself and Kirkman with the claims he is making. Face it, Moore, you signed away your rights - with legal council present for both you and Kirkman, on a contract you agreed on - and now that it's popular, you want your piece of the pie. Grow up.

Mahalo.

The Avengers Coming at us with A Vengeance!

It's very likely that anyone out there remotely interested in superheroes, nerd culture or film will have seen the latest trailer for the upcoming Joss Whedon production of The Avengers.

Seriously, does this movie not look fantastic? Robert Downey Jr. is beyond dreamy.

Though I was incredibly disappointed to hear that Edward Norton was being replaced by Mark Ruffalo for the role of Bruce Banner some time ago, I have to say that Ruffalo really looks like he is going to step up to the plate. I think that he'll be able to pull off the same awkward and brooding scientist that Norton produced and that original actor Eric Bana failed to do.

Mahalo.

Walking on the Rocks

Hey everyone, do me a favour? Spread this to as many people as you can! This video is awesomely hilarious and features my friend Laurence's band, super FLORENCE jam! Enjoy!

Cross-Promotion

Though I mentioned it when I first started this blog, I would like you all to have a look at my other blog, Jordan On the Road. After rereading some of it, I realize some of it is good and some of it is just crazy. It's worthwhile with passages like:

"The animals are out to get me and I'm not even drunk. Pity me, save me, gratify me...for I am the 21st Century Achilles - doing battle with the mind; this century's Foe of Man."

It's not like you can lose! Examine my incredibly brain-tired ramblings for the low, low cost of NOTHING!