Misogyny rhymes with Therapy

So, I'll start this off by stating: I am not a feminist.

Why? Because in doing so, I'm illustrating a problem in society; I can't claim to be a feminist, and still have my words taken seriously.  As it stands, I prefer "Equalitist" to feminist, because I support the advancement of all people, like prosperity rockets. 

So, everyone talks about misogyny, which is a word I had to look up how to spell, because that's how little I use it.  Misogyny is basically when a man (or woman, I've met a few of those in my time here) is racist against women.  They may like them, as we like all kinds of things, but they hide a deep rooted anger against them.

I've gone into such things before, how letting little boys get hurt can lead to men with scars, but we forget that sometimes the anger comes from somewhere else, and is just focused here by a third party.  Misogyny is bad, and it's pretty easy to find out if you're misogynistic, or have been jaded by misogynistic views.

Seriously, it's not hard to get jaded, it can happen to anyone.  Women get jaded by the same views about themselves.  Can you imagine that?  You can't?  Because you're just a guy, and guys can't understand feelings?

What do Poe, Keats, Yeats and Oscar Wilde have in common?  All are poets, really good at expressing their feelings, and they're men.  Hell, Orpheus is considered the greatest poet in mythological history, and yeah; guy.

Vikings, Scotts, and Picts... all big on poetry and feelings.  Vikings considered crying manly, deal with it gym coaches of the world.

I know women, who slut shame victims of rape.  Can you even imagine what it must be like to laugh at a woman for being raped? To blame her?  A girl in a miniskirt being raped was "asking for it, really..." but your wife in the same outfit being raped is the start of a Liam Neason revenge movie.

How can a man (talking about a specific person I know), express undying rage at men who sexually harass women, blame a girl for naked pictures of her being spread by a jilted lover?  Or a thief? 

Because it's not that hard to be convinced of this, because misogynists are good at it.  They use the exact same tactic as Neo-Nazi recruiters.  They find those who are angry, feel powerless, and generally are looking for something to stand against. To these people, they don't just say "it's the wimins", because they're not stupid.  They just drop little hints, and everytime something goes wrong, they point the finger at the nearest person without a penis.  Because people with those don't make bad choices. They give people a torch, and tell them to stand with all those happy people over there having a scowling contest.We're all looking for some injustice to stand up against, and here we are, being handed a person who we can hate together, as a family.

Ever listen to a bunch of internet misogynists rant?  Do they sound angry?  Not usually.  Mostly, they sound happy, as if they can finally do what they always wanted: prove themselves right yell really loudly.  People will listen to them now!  That's all most want, a little attention now and then.

Never base your enrollment into a way of thinking, or a side of an argument, by the charismatic leader.  Base whether you side with a group of people, by the people in the group.  Read the comments on an article explaining why a woman who's ex-boyfriend distributed nude pictures of her he took, and deliberately set out to destroy her life.  Even when you think they've drifted away, keep reading.

Find the masses, when they start calling for her suicide, or call her family to threaten her life.  Listen to their anger that seems impossibly directed at a single person they likely didn't know existed until they happened to click on the same link as you.

You may find that you've been standing behind a group of people with torches, about to lynch someone because "meh, it's Friday."

A little too much swagger in ones' step.

It's been a week since Harpers, and my ankle finally functions like an ankle again, and not a cybernetic limb set on "pain".  So, all the pictures have been put up, and I've finally sifted through the lists of people who I couldn't name on the street trying to friend me.  Ok.  Time for the educational post.

"Your Mouth Writing a Check Your Ass Can't Cash."

That's right, today we're talking about Bravado. 

Bravado is the act of your mouth writing the proverbial check, to which thine ass will be standing in line with at the bank of violence later.  Bravado, bragging, swagger, and such, are not manifestations of someone being egotistical.  They're simply someone giving the world a show.  For fighters, this has a more definitive line, because there's repercussions after.

Usually, before a battle, tourney, or just straight up match, many of us fighters will do a bit of trash talk to the "Enemy" (friends we kill).  I'm no exception, I frequently ask if it's acceptable to remove the heads of my enemy to present as a gift to the barony.  I'm fun like that.  A few lines of dialogue before a fight add a sense of humor to it, which, when you're pretend killing someone, is very much needed.  So feel free to boldly make a claim to your opponents future widow, or threaten to use their skull as a decorative flower vase.

Just remember, no one has any sympathy for you when you die then.

If you go into a fight having made a grand claim to pose your future dead enemy spread eagle so he won't fit in a casket, and then find yourself on your back, while the audience votes on "Egyptian or Greek" for your death pose; you have no one to blame but yourself.  There is nothing we humans love more than seeing someone who stood up on the grandstand, fall flat on their face.

Which is why educational videos on Youtube get seven hits, and videos of skateboarders falling down hit in the billions.

The problem with bravado, is that some go too far with it.  A bit before a fight is good, a bit of "I was goddamn amazing" after being goddamn amazing is alright.  Just don't be that guy who spends the previous week making grand claims as to your fighting prowess, and then fight six matches that end in unclear draws, and one time everyone just said "fuck it" and walked away.

Because the guy who made the quip about "using your eyes as mothballs" gets the benefit of doubt when there's a question as to "who hit who?", but the guy who spent the previous night explaining how he had more skill than half the army combined.

I tell people that "I've been doing martial arts and sword work for about twenty years now", though rarely as a bragging tool. I like to use it to stop people who're either; trying to explain a basic concept like "force" to me (I've heard every plausible definition), who are trying to critique me, yet spend most of their time trying to soften the blow to the point where it's Nerf ("your elbow is a bit out of sorts for that parry" "Thanks!), or I tell people that to explain why things are difficult, because I've been doing this for around two decades, and things still sometimes don't go my way.  "Remember, twenty years might seem like a long time, but most of these styles were developed over centuries, and refined through more centuries... you'd need a much longer lifespan to truly master anything in this day and age."

SO, when one steps into a duel/fight/battle, after having spent the previous week explaining that they are the greatest, they get no wiggle room.  I've had friends make those grand claims, and then be confused when no one cared that something did not go their way.  So, I've made a helpful motto to remember:

"When one fighter fights dirty, both fighters get dirt on them.  If one of them was talking trash, they're now dirty, and smell like trash."

When you walk away from the fight, do you want to be remembered as the fighter who fought clean, fun, and everyone wants a piece of now? Or the one who everyone is pretty certain is going to contest every hit against them?

Empty Booth on Career Day

Having an honest moment with myself tonight.  Shannon and I had a strange conversation, one that I'm certain she didn't expect, but in it came a statement that if I can hold onto, will keep me from the depths.

What do I want to do with my life?

It's a question that plagues mankind, we're here for at best, almost a century, yet many of us have no idea what we are going to do for it.  For the first part of it, we want to be big, we want to grow and learn and play.  For the lucky ones, that never ends.

In truth, only a few ever stop.

Sure, we all like to believe we're unique in our childlike wonder of the world, that we are the only ones who still wonder about magic.  It's just not true.  Grown adults wouldn't care about fireworks if we lost childhood wonder.  Big bright colors in the sky.  Books about sex and adventure.  Fandoms that span nations.

The average adult still believes in magic, and that's good.  Because children are fucking stupid.

Children believe in magic, and stop asking, they're content to just accept "it happened" as a reasonable explanation.  Adults want to know how you knew that was my damn card, asshole.

That, is wonder.  Wonder isn't "MAGIC WAS REAL GUYS!"  Wonder is... well, wondering.

Unfortunately, somewhere between childhood and death, someone demands of us that we decide what we want to do with our lives. As if we know until we've tried everything.  It's like asking someone what food was the best they'll ever eat.  They can't answer that if they ever plan on eating again.

But, I digress, fantastically so.  What do I want to do with my life?  It's simple really;

I want to hit things with swords, and write books.

There we go, just point me to that Career Day booth and I'll be on my way.  That may seem sarcastic, but it's honestly not.  I just want to hit things with swords; I want to fight enemies and run screaming into people.  It's what I find fun.  I don't find football fun, or playing card games.  I like hitting things with swords.

I don't like playing farming games, or most shooting games.  I like hitting things with swords in games.  Throwing magic is cool... but... I've got this perfectly good sword here....

I also want to write books about things.  Sometimes even books that don't involve hitting things with swords.  It happens, honestly.  I like sitting down and dreaming up stories, and I write them down because if I don't, my mind gets very loud and I start talking to myself out loud about things.

That's not a joke, talking to myself while pacing the house for two hours happens to me on the not-so-rare occasion.

So, you know what I do?  I hit things with swords, which on occasion leads to me teaching people how to also hit things with swords.  So that I can fulfill my selfish desire to hit more people with swords.  The more people I train, the more people there are to hit with my sword.  Win for me.

I also write my stories, and publish them when I'm able (you can read them, here.  I don't put that much effort into publishing... I should, but publishing I've found was not what I wanted to do.  I wanted to write them, and read them to myself.  Publishing is just something I do when I find I like the story enough to share.  Like a really good pizza; you just want to give a friend a slice.

So, this is my life's plan: to hit things with swords and write books.  I'll probably work jobs, I don't particularly care which as long as they don't interfere with my sword hitting or book writing.  It's my life's goal and it's what I'm getting ever closer to be doing more of.

My dream, is to one day not require a job, because of a combination of sword fighting and book writing.  Seriously, that would be the dream.

So I'm going to do that.  I know people say "you can never catch your dreams, because dreams are unattainable," but I once dreamed as a child that I lost my teddy bear.  He was dead and all I could say was "no one lives forever".  I know, I was a dark child.  My brother was in that dream as was his friend.

Months later, my house was damaged in a construction accident, and my teddy bear was destroyed and I never saw him, or the shoebox bed with the Batman pillow and blanket I made him, ever again.  When my brother told me that my bear was gone I told him "no one lives forever."

So, yeah, that dream happened, guess this one can too.

Armoring Journal: Building Better Base

So, today's adventure into the wild world of making things to keep fighters from death; building a better leg.

My current armor projects are interesting ones:

Building a breast plate for a woman with breasts to spare.

Building a new heavy list/fencing gorget for myself.

Taking the cake: Building a custom left leg for the wife, who requires specialized care to protect the IT band.

So, this is the hardest part, because it's on the side.  My first plan was to create a cuisse that is one piece.  No crease, no strapping except for comfort straps.  I'd need to take multiple measurements of her legs, make a left leg that is bent around to a circle and rivet it into permanent placement.

Downside: very hard to put on single pieces, and the IT band is only slightly more protected.

Plan II: refit current model to have a long single piece protecting the band, minor change to the bottom to allow it to bend without hitting that exact band.  That muscle does need room to flex, otherwise she'll end up losing use of the leg.  Or blood clot problems, which could result in loss of the leg itself.  This plan feels better than the single set.

Strapping: I plan to strap the wing of the knee joint to deflect away from the band, while defusing the blow as quickly and efficently as possible.  Possible padding behind the wing itself.

Padding: This is a big part, I'm going to have to rhino that leg.  I know it might be difficult for her to call blows to it, but that's a training issue.  I might make the leg larger than normal, then use a three layer padding system to it.  First is rigid material (plate), followed by a foam material, then a second foam layer of different hardness.

I'm debating on either hard then soft, for better diffusion, or soft then hard, for better oblation.  Possibly even using strips of hard cell, that stand on either side of the IT band, then a layer of soft.  What that might do, is direct pressure from blows to either side of the band, even if hit on it.  Could add strips of soft in the empty spaces to keep a solid flow to the impact.

Knee Joint:  This presents a special challenge, since I will need to make a knee that significant weight can be dropped onto it, I have a few suspension knee pads, I'm going to have her test which ones feel good for her, then I'll either copy it or incorporate that exact one.  Knee will also be strapped to take more blows than normal, since she's a lefty.

Shin: I myself prefer light shinguards, but since this leg will be an open door for her opponents, I'm going to put a standard shinguard below the knee.


... and this is just the left leg.

Practically a Martial Art

One does not spend more than a day among martial artists before the word "practicality" is thrown out like a padded MMA gauntlet.  Growing up in America, there is always a group of people in every situation who doubt everything ever.  My theory was that it was social "little man" syndrome; a feeling that since they knew less, they were less, so anything they didn't know was not worth knowing in the first place.

We all know their arguments: "but what if I had a gun?"  "yeah, but what if they just did ." "none of that will save you if the guy has like... giant arms".  

By this time, we're all preeety much just bored with them.  Denying the effectiveness of martial arts in the days of MMA is like claiming that dogs can't look up.  We've tested that theory daily.

But, this hang-up on "practicality" in martial arts circles is basically the same thing, but directed at other arts.  It's like being a martial arts racist.  I've yet to know of a style where someone who did a different style, did not question the practicality of something.

"Wing Chun doesn't hit hard."
"Muay thai let's you get hit."
"Karate is the Dane Cook of martial arts."

Granted, there is a degree of questioning one should do in every martial art as to "will this actually work?  I mean, I'm pretty sure it will, but I've yet to master the required Hadoken..."  Also, I've been at "demonstrations" where the proposed art did literally nothing.

I'm looking at you "guy who told me he could knock me out from across the room"...

I hear a lot from MMA fighters that their spor- I mean "art"... no, I meant sport, is "practical".  Frequently in regards to "conditioning", "technique" and "realism".  Which, is hilarious to me, to say the least.  Remember kids, MMA is a fantasy sport, where no one pulls knives, friends don't come in, and you never ate too much before a fight.

On the scale of "realism", MMA falls about equal with the SCA combats.  At the end of the day, if you took an MMA fighter and threw him to a gang of thugs, he'd last longer than a non-mma fighter.  Same can be said for any SCA fighter tossed to a group of sword-swinging knights.

Though I will state right now, that proportionately, the SCA fighter would out last their non-fighter, much longer than the MMA fighter would out last their non-fighter.  Because it's hard to run away crying in armor.

Now, is MMA a martial art?  No, it is a martial sport.  It's the equivalent of Mortal Kombat in real life.  A group of colorfully dressed people with strangely diverse martial arts, fight each other for a bit, but no one actually dies*.

*Because they're still available next time you select characters.

Is SCA a martial art?  No, it's live action MMO PvP.  We have goals, group dynamics, different classes (weapon sets), roles (commanders, scouts...), Moderators, and of course, respawns.

Both systems actually require a detailed knowledge of martial arts, I don't know a single fencer/heavy/MMA fighter who doesn't know at least six horrifying ways to murder someone that could never, ever be used in the SCA/MMA.

Are they practical?  Less than actually slitting throats.  Is it a martial art?  Not really.  What is it?  Martial Activity/Sport... and fun.


Side notes:  Things that happen at both types of combat events:
-Theme music
-Drinking/eating
-Hot girls in revealing clothing.
-Gratuitous man-hugging.
-Old guys debating theory while young guys beat each other senseless.
-Tattoos.
-Everyone is scared of the woman fighters.
-Barefoot adults.
-Armchair generals.
-Support teams.
-Folding chairs.
-Muscle-bound-non-combat men feeling immediately inadequate.
-Sweet after parties.
-People selling over priced clothing.
-Broken, bleeding fighters drinking beer and talking about "things".

Disbelief and Wirework

A subject frequently brought up on both sides of the like/don't like argument for books and movies, is the "suspension of disbelief".  It's commonly used as a "this: therefore I win" part of an argument.  It's supposed to be "telling" what someone will suspend with their disbelief.

Spoiler: It's not.

Suspension of disbelief is "how far can a story go, before it pushes away its' audience".  Not how wacky it is, or how realistic it seems.  The "it's a movie" statement is lazy debating, one has to keep in mind that the whole point of a story is to explain something in a manner that is easy to relate to.

We don't question the Iron Man suit's ability to stop inertia from explosions, not "because... you know... he science'd it", but because we can all agree that in this moment; the armor just works. We're ignoring that minor detail for the sake of understanding the story.

The Jaegers can run and jump without falling apart, because of that thing they never ever mention in the movie. We're fine with that.

We're also fine with idiots dying in horror movies, because they're idiots.  Even the "smart" character will become a drooling moron whenever the killer needs to magic their way into a house.  Even though we'd all love a scene in the teen slasher flick, when the crazy killer (who's really the boyfriend) goes to a college party to kill someone, and runs into a marine on leave.

"I have a knife!"
"And a future filled with expensive medical bills..."

What kills this suspension, effectively cutting the wires, is when things happen that defy the basic reaction laws of humanity.  Not when characters make mistakes, but when we're expected to just "go along" with something that no one in the audience could ever truly "go along" with.  It's where movies that try to strong arm political agenda into movies usually fail.

Examples: Transformers, and The Purge.

In our first example, we come across a movie in many people watching it stopped numerous times and went "are you kidding me?  Am I the only non-moron here?"  Not when giant robots punched eachother, we accepted "alien stuff" as the explanation for that, along with "sure Megan Fox would date... him...".  What kills it is "... is he really going to go to college, the face of the human vs. Decepticon war, without his awesome car/best friend/body guard?  That's like Michael Knight telling Kitt "Nah, stay home, I'm going to solve this case with my Hyundai."  That, and the government strong arming giant robots with no allegiance into exile.

"Hi, Autobots?  It's , heard the US kicked you out... man, we have some great garages here... like, a bunch.  Just saying if you lived here... you'd each get your own hanger."

In our second (and far worse) the Purge breaks a rule that even fantasy and surreal genres are held to: human actions.  We accept that elves are perfect beings, because we're not, and they're not us.  Humans in fantasy are always "strong, dependable, capable of great evil or great good, work hard despite their short lives", it reads like a DnD fortune cookie.  The vast, vast majority of the action and thriller genres literally depend on one human trait that we all tend to share: we love ourselves some revenge.

We're revenge junkies.  How many movies, books, shows, entire series are devoted to revenge.  Even our most popular super hero team of the decade The Avengers, name quite literally means those who take that revenge we love so much.  Why?  Because revenge is the one time, the one time, when a good, mild mannered man is able to put down his glasses and beat some ass.  We love it.  We want to be the heroic Gristle Mc Thornbody, beating down thugs because they killed his second best friend ever.  It's sexy and fun.

The Purge breaks this, by saying that should a night be "anything goes" the streets wouldn't be filled with men with guns, bats, swords, knives, superhero costumes... just looking for evil to smite.  The actual purge would have lasted one time, before everyone realized that "most criminals are just not dumb enough to walk out into the world on the night where they can be brutally murdered for sport by angry mobs."

... that would have been a better movie, a bunch of low income drug dealers, gang members, and petty thieves, trying to hide from roving bands of people who believe they're heroes.

There's your political statement.

A God Complex

If there's one thing every craftsman born wants, from carpenters to serial killers, it's someone to understand their work.

"Because God." is literally the worst answer ever.

Me, being the charismatic bastard I am, I believe in a God.  I won't say the God, because that's assuming that out of the infinite universe I picked the right answer on a multiple choice quiz with an infinite amount of answers.  It's beyond arrogant to believe the "my God is the god, and yours is wrong".

I believe in Gods and Science, for one specific reason: God does have laws over humanity, being infallible, we literally cannot break these laws.  I call these laws "physics".

It makes perfect sense to me, that God would use physics to make things.  Like a computer programmer, using a code to make something work.

God: "I need a planet... let me just physics some of these gasses together around this star, bake at a few trillion degrees for a few trillions years... and bam, planet.  Now to physics me up some life forms on it.  There we go, now let's see if I can teach them not to be assholes before they blow themselves up."

Being a god sounds a lot like being a parent, or a teacher.  Which are really very similar things come to think of it.  God makes sense as a teacher, as someone who revels in our little scientific triumphs.  Can you imagine the happy face (if you know, God has one) God made when humans held up the first book?  Finally able to write down all the stuff God handed to them so they couldn't screw it up lat-... who am I kidding?  I'm sure a god, who gave humans free will, would see that coming.

Yes, "free will", one of the few things that existed before the split up of Christianity.  Where God actually put forth "I have these commandments, you can choose to obey them or not, it's up to you."  Where God let's us know that all the suffering in the world is a direct result of our own actions or inaction.  Boring atheists rely on that "why would suffering exist with a god around? huh?", fearful of the moment someone says to them "ummm.. because some people use their free will to be shits."

Saying "well, that's just how the world is" as a response, is just like saying "because God."  Neither take responsibility for it.

Now, how do I look at Science and God and say "that totally makes sense!"?  Because Gravity and I teach martial arts.  Most people I know, have no idea about how to fight.  I've seen it all, every dumb idea by someone who has no idea what happens in a fight.  When I show them something, I get that same dumbfounded look of "are you a wizard?"  No, it's simple mechanics, ignore the pointy hat.

If I had someone push me, and then I used a complex technique to send them to the floor, they won't understand it.  It's beyond them.  Much like Gravity, and why ice is slippery.  We have no idea.  It's not saying we never will, just that the understanding of how that works is beyond our... well... understanding.

If we don't understand things, but someone out there far more advanced than we does, that makes them more advanced.  Our endeavor to understand how they did it, makes us understand them better.

Understanding is knowing, and isn't "knowing God" what all Christians are supposed to want?  I love Science for that reason, it's constantly asking the right question.  Not "ha! I've disproved something!" it's asking "how does this work?"  That's real science.  Real science is looking at Gravity, at the tiniest particles effected by it and asking "how does this work?"  Because when we know, we'll understand how the universe was created better.  Which means we'll know more about that which created it.

Because the universe contains craftsmanship, and if there is a craftsmanship, then there is a craftsman.  They love it when people go "Hey! This is how you did this!"  Learning that the world is billions of years old was like finding out that it didn't "take God time", but that "God took time" on it.

Science is how we understand God, how we understand what all this stuff around us is.  One cannot just sit back and say "well, God space magicked everything into existence, that's how."  Because that's lazy.  That's like one of my students telling me "you just used wizardry to knock me down, that's how." followed by going about their lives, never caring to know how I did it.  Even though I did it to show them how, so that they themselves might one day do it.

We have all manner of Sciencey goodness because we Scienced it, because a bunch of people asked "how does that work?" and didn't accept "because God said so" as the reason.  You could "read his book", but even if you found the ones that weren't re-written by ghost writers, you're still not understanding.  You can learn about me by reading Tale of the Iron Rose but you'll learn more about me, by figuring out how I wrote it.

How did I know how to do those fights?  About survival?  About the personal issues and struggles the characters had?  How did I, a man, know how hard it is to be a young girl?  The book won't tell you that, you have to find out by researching me.

That's just Science.

Link Between Genders

At E3 this month, Nintendo released the first images for the new Legend of Zelda game, and while it made me question every choice in my life that did not lead to me playing that exact game this very moment, it also raised another question.

"Hey... is Link a girl in that video?"

Not just in the sense that yes, haha, Link is no slate chested, grizzled white guy with a five o'clock shadow and probably a dark past (like every other main character at E3), instead he's usually under powered for his enemies, and tends to be a bit more... feminine.

Which if you're playing the home game, being less manly than a man who's pecs require zip codes, makes you about normal.

No, the question came about with the art, the motion of his body, the different angles of the face... all seemed to point that "he" might be a "her" this time around.

Now, Nintendo did point out that "Link is a guy in this", but the question had already been asked: why not?  Link is probably one of the most easily identifiable characters in video game history, and certainly one of the easiest for players to identify with.  Unlike many protagonists in games, Link works for both genders.

Take the very first Zelda, Link was a blank slate.  Mega Man at that time, was a person with a story behind him.  He was "Rock", a robot made by Dr. Light, who had a "strong sense of Justice" and took to becoming a warrior to save the day.  That's four more points than Link got.  Link was literally "just a guy, basically you".  Link was not a destined hero, he was not a master of all things.  His motivations, history, and all else were up to the player.  He saved Zelda because the player wanted to save Zelda.

Flash forward a few years, and we have "Ocarina of Time" wherein Link is... a kid, living in a forest.  His history is really not given.  He doesn't have a fairy, but wait... he gets one.  His character arch is that Link is summoned by the Deku tree, that's it.  There's no "Link must learn to be a hero", as it's pretty damn obvious for everyone he knows in the forest; Link is already a stand-up guy everyone but one of them is fine with.  There's no vengeance, there's no "I am fated to save the world!"  Link just goes off to save the world because the player wants to help.

All the way through the series, Link is a rather androgynous character.  He pushes no gender boundaries, he exemplifies no stereotypes.  This is likely one of the reasons the bulk of the gamers I know (male and female) have an affection for this game: we're not playing "Link" we're playing "us in a green outfit".

How many female Link's go to conventions?  Less than the amount of girls I've known who love Link as a character, someone they can identify with.  As a guy, I can't identify with Ivy, the bondage assassin lady from Soul Caliber, nor half of the DoA cast.  Playing a shape shifting witch who walks around in vinyl outfits made of hair, is not something I can see myself as.  I can't find myself absorbed into this characters life.

But as a scared, lonely person trapped on an island of savages all trying to murder the hell out of me?  Well, I'm sure Laura Croft and I would have a lot in common on the "oh God I'm going to die" mentalities.  I can see many a young girl sitting before a TV, asking themselves the question as to "why is Link saving Zelda?"  It's not because he loves her, in many cases, he's never met her.  It's not because Ganon killed his wife and kids.  He doesn't have to do anything actually, Link has all the ability to literally peace out of Hyrule forever.

Link fights Ganon, and saves Zelda because he wants to.  It's the easiest motivation to get behind.  We as gamers want to fight to save something, and beat back the tides of evil forces, and honestly, we don't care about what the hero wears under the armor.

The industry needs to stop pretending like we do.

The Worst Defence is a Good Offence.

Offence is one of those things that people take, but never want.  Well, some people want to be offended, it's like candy for bitches.  We've all met someone who enjoys nothing more than meeting someone who's opinion differs from them drastically, because in that moment they get to shout.

They do not get to "discuss" or "educate", no, they simply want to have a reason to be very loud about something they like to think they know about.

Since blogs are nothing more than soapboxes, here's mine:

You should deeply care about if you offend someone, even if you hate them.

Offending someone is not a good thing, the exact meaning of the word negates it as being something to be proud of.  Too many times I have to sit through an entire media feed, filled with posts and pages about how "I DON'T CARE IF THIS OFFENDS YOU!" or "if this offends you, you can fuck right off."

It's trolling, on a more personal level.  Akin to saying "u mad?" after doing something with the intention of making someone angry.  It creates a situation where you have trapped someone into either feeling the intended, ambushed emotion, or lying about how they're a Zen master.

There are likely no Zen masters anywhere near anyone reading anything on Facebook.  Unless you are taking a selfie with the Dali Lama, you've never met one.

Say you don't believe in "God" or any "gods", so you're an atheist.  Now, if you just don't believe because of reasons, that's fine, the only people who really care likely won't waste their time on you.  Though, if you want attention, you can be a militant atheist.  You can post demeaning things about other people, call them idiots, tell them horrible things, insult every aspect of their intellect, and then, after all of it you can just scoff at them for being offended.  It's fine, because only stupid people would be offended for it.

It makes you sound smarter, to dismiss other people, just like pushing someone makes you seem stronger. 

Fun Fact: Scientologists schools spend all day copying words out of the dictionary, which means that their children will grow up having a vocabulary that will dwarf every one of their peers.  They may not have the actual schooling to back it up, but they will speak in words that make "smart folks" feel like "dumb folks".  It's very much like what most atheists do today.

Now, I'm beating up on atheists, and I don't mean to. To be perfectly honest, I don't care if you're an atheist.  I don't care if you literally believe in the Flying Speghetti Monster.  In all honesty, I have never cared about religion, I care about actions.

Believe me, I have strong opinions, ones I will defend, but I will not defend them by offending others.  If you truly want to have strong opinions, you have to learn to explain and defend them while not hurting someone's feelings.  We tend to diminish that, making "hurting your little feelings" into an insult all on its' own.  Remember, suicide and murder both happen because of hurt feelings.  Wars as well.

To offend while speaking your opinion, ruins your opinion's merit, for example:

"Them niggers and faggots ain't too bad."

Well, that sentence is going to offend someone.  Rightly so, because it's goddamn offensive.  Even though it's merit is "these people are good", it's delivery negates that.  The speaker might really care about the rights of those people, to their very core... but who's going to take that?  Even if you agree with them, you're going to feel insulted, and you might even repremand them for it.  Imagine that, you're repremanding someone for voicing an opinion of tolerance and understanding.  Why?  U Mad?

Voicing one's opinion should only be done to educate others to the merits of one's opinion.  If done in a way that rebukes the exact people one is trying to educate, it's not "voicing an opinion" it's "being a massive dickhead."  No one ever says "Hitler was bad", because it's a damned given at this point.  Yes, we're well aware extermination of a people is wrong.  No one would say, to a group of their friends "Hitler is a fucking monster, and you guys are fucking shits if you think otherwise, and if you're offended by this, you can go fuck yourself." 

No one speaks to their friends like that, they don't need to.  Their friends likely either know, or even if they did not, yelling at them and threatening insult is only going to convince your friends you're an asshole.  If you said that line to a person who had never heard of Hitler, you're not going to convince them. 

If you're intention in voicing your opinion is not to educate those who might not fully understand, but to exclude those who may disagree with you, you are not voicing an opinion.  In this, you are secluding yourself from other opinions, so you may listen to your opinions echo.  A person who argues with his echo, is a moron.

#YESALLTHETHINGS

An odd thing in my life has always been that I don't understand my fellow males.  Out of the friends I acquire in my travels, few are guys.  I don't mesh well with my own gender. 

Put me at work, I'll have a great time with the women.  We'll tell jokes, swap stories, be morons at play. 

The guys will sort of... acknowledge me.

I like girls, and not just the drooling staring way.  I enjoy spending time in groups of women.  On my birthday, I ended up having long conversations with two fifteen year old girls.  One was about dying because the vacuum exploded and killed us with bright sparkly stars, and the other was about boyfriends and tennis.

Seriously, it's not even me creeping on young girls, I just find these things funny. 

In school, I sat at the "girls" table for most of my life.  I only left when I made a single guy friend who wanted to move, and a few of the girls followed.  A few of the guys I knew figured out this magical talent I had for simply speaking to girls, and quickly recruited me.  By the way, guys table conversation was usually them pretending to be as stupid as possible, as to not be "smart".  Girls table conversation was about sex, how to do it, what they thought would be fun, and that guy who's shorts showed off his junk in gym class.

Girl talk was never about ponies, unless that was slang for some horrifying sex act.

I enjoyed those days, and I remember thinking to myself when I joined the "guys"; this lot has literally no idea what the hell the other side is.  The notion that girls could think was beyond most of them.  It was not some form of anti-women hate, but mostly pure ignorance.  They were guys, guys talked about cars, how tough they were, and made vague attempts to show they noticed girls.

There's so many problems with that mentality, because it leads to a constant surprise set up later on.
"Whoa, this girl knows about something I like..."
"Whoa, this girl can do things I do..."
"Whoa, this girl doesn't like something I don't..."

You like giant robot movies, because they're awesome.  You can ride a dirt bike, because dirt bikes are fun.  You don't like bad romance movies, because they suck.  It should not surprise you that someone else might feel the same way, just because they're a different gender.  This creates a rift, it leaves people believing they're different on a base level.

I've taught young girls to protect themselves, because the world has plenty of people who'll harm them for no reason.  I taught young boys for the exact same reasons.  Some people just hate women, because some people are fucking stupid.  A similar amount of men are attacked and beaten because someone hated them.  We're not unique in this.  Bad things happen regardless of gender.

Instead of putting women on this alter where we proclaim we'll protect them, why don't we put everyone up on that alter?  Why don't we teach children to not be shitheads when they grow up?  Teach them not to beat their spouses, because 40% of domestic abuse is against the man, and that doesn't include the men that are either ashamed to report it, or who literally don't know they can be abused.

Imagine if a woman did not know rape was wrong, and just something she hated, but oh well, these things happen?  Boys are told to never hit girls, I know grown men who still act like even trying to stop a woman from assaulting them with a weapon is wrong.  I watched a guy get beaten up in school because a girl just wanted to, and no one would let him live it down if he did anything.  That sort of mentality creates a feeling of powerlessness that festers, and eventually grows into a hatred of those that hold it over you. 

If girls could beat you up when you were younger because they felt like it, how hard is it to believe they wouldn't falsely accuse you of assault when you're older, because they feel like it?  You remember that feeling of injustice, where they hurt you in some way, and the world laughed when it happened, and then shamed you for even thinking of defending yourself.

... and they wonder where a "rape culture" comes from. 

By teaching this to young boys, we practically groom many of them to fear and resent girls.  To expect a woman to abuse power of them.  We spend hours telling a boy to never lay hand on a girl, but spare the girl a passing "don't hit him either".  Children are shits, they'll abuse any power you give them (seriously, tell a child it's ok not to like a kind of food, and they hate everything), we train girls to use this against boys... but the girls can grow out of that power.

Sure some don't, some just become horrible people, but that's just the world: some people suck.  It's these boys that still hurt.  Victory is easily forgotten as the real world sets in, but injustice festers.  Adults push this on the young, and punish them accordingly.  They create a future for the boys where they fear and resent women, and a world where women have to wonder if behind each face is a little boy who hates girls.  Is that smile hiding the time a girl abused him?  Was his father beaten by his mother?  Does he view her as a "thing" because he spent his life being told she was different?

If you want to fix the problem women face today, because they face a hell not of their own making, you have to start with the kids.  Tell them that abusing each other is not acceptable.  That they're people, regardless of gender.  Teach them real respect, not the kind that comes due to "oh, they're just too weak...", but the sort where they understand that we're all weak and strong. 

Teach your little boy to think little girls are awesome, and your little girl the same, and you might not have to watch another generation pass by in a world where either of them can have their lives ripped away because of something you did.

Annoying...

Things that Annoy Me: A look at the world of frustration.

We all have things that annoy us, and we share many of them.  No one likes racists, no one likes sitting in traffic, everyone hates people who talk during the movie.  There are, however, some things that we hate as individuals.  To quote Leonard Church:

" It's not about hating the guy on the other side because someone told you to. I mean, you should hate someone because they're an asshole, or pervert, or snob, or they're lazy, or arrogant, or an idiot, or a know-it-all. Those are reasons to dislike somebody. You don't hate a person because someone told you to. You have to learn to despise them on a personal level. Not because they're Red, or Blue, but because you know them, and you see them every single day, and you can't stand them because they are a complete and total fucking douche bag."

So, a small list of things that make me want to hit people with old pieces of fish:

-Anyone who dismisses actual science, because they don't like being wrong.

-People who expect people on minimum wage to care if they do a good job.  Remember, you get what you pay for.

-Ex/Current Military who's sole fix for any situation is "you should join the military, they'll do X".  Healthcare, college, job training, sex.  I know a lot of military personel, one thing all of the ones I like have in common; they don't expect everyone's life to be better with a liberal application of "go across the world, stand somewhere and wait to be shot at".

-Clerks in Loan offices.

-Anyone for whom "I don't know" is not an acceptable answer.

-Anyone who complains that movies based on books do some things different.

-Movies that "based on the book", the way Fast and Furious is "based loosely on Ben Hurr"...

-The Phrase "U mad bro?".

-"Extended Universes", I'm looking at you Boba Fanboys.

-People who make popcorn at work.  You will either burn it, and make everyone hate you, or you will make it correctly, and make everyone unsatisfiably crave popcorn for the next few hours.

-My Xbox.

-Zimbo Quizes.

There's more, but this list is now one this list.

The Dark Warrior

In my life, I'm not particularly afraid of fighting anyone.  Anxious, nervous, even worried, but fear isn't exactly the emotion I feel.  In the end, I want to fight them, even if I know I'll lose.  Sometimes I prefer to fight those that I'll lose to.

There is, however, one person I do fear to cross with; that is me.

Not my actual self, but a deeper, darker me that I have to explain in the only way I can: with metaphors.

In the Legend of Zelda, Link fights Dark Link, a representation of everything that makes him unworthy of being the hero.  For those of you who don't obsess over video games, Dark Link is literally your character, but shaded black.  All the same power ups, all the same hearts, everything.  Dark Link also has the same style, but one exception: he can counter every straight attack you make at him.  To beat him, you have to fight in odd patterns, and generally find the weakspot in your own play style to even hit him.

This is how I see my depression, as this Dark Link inside me.

It's something that's incredibly difficult to fight, for a few painful reasons.  Firstly, it knows every one of my tricks.  It knows all of my mental blocks, my uplifting habits, my ways of fighting through depression.  It knows them all.  It also knows my weaknesses.  Every chink in my armor, every spot where it hurts, it knows exactly how to hit me there.

It knows what to do, and when the perfect time to do it is.  Unfortunately, I don't know it as well as it knows me.  It knows my subconscious, while I can only guess at its'.

Worst of all, it has no need to hold anything back.  Nothing is too far for it, nothing is too wrong.  It will do anything to win.  It wants me alone and it wants me defeated.  It has all the time in the world to do both.  It holds every card, it has every advantage.

I cannot grow stronger, since it grows with me.  Should I learn a new method, it learns it as well, and it learns to break it.  There is no defeating it.  I will spend the rest of my life in perpetual conflict with it, and I can never defeat it.  I can't kill it, I can't be rid of it.  I'll hold it until I die.

... but that's the thing, I don't have to carry it, I don't have to drag it along with me.  It comes willingly.  When all is said and done, my darkness will still be willing to stand beside me, and tell me I'm a failure.  It will never give up.

In that, it can be my greatest ally.

Through it, I will constantly learn my weaknesses, and to better guard them.  I will learn it's secrets as well, it's methods, how it got to me, and be stronger for it. It may be willing to go further than me, but I'm willing to challenge it every time.  It cannot be stronger than me, it can only be as strong as it's possible for me to be.  It's the constant challenge of my life, the ever lasting wind in my face.

Our greatest fight, is the one with those near us.  I have the advantage of outside allies, I can find help.  I can have someone stand behind me and push, it cannot.  All it can do is try and get them to abandon me, and it knows just how to do that.  A counter for every counter, it can be unstoppable.

So, I make it work for me, I focus it's efforts into books, into stories, into my desire to conquer.   One day, I will stand atop the mountain, with the world at my feet, and that damnedable Dark Me will be standing next to me.  Which is good...

... because I'll want him there so I can say "I told you so" to his face.

Thought Process.

The creation of a story is simple, but complex in its' design.  To write a good, thought provoking story, one must use two important mental phrases.

"Imagine that..." and "take into consideration".

For an example, we'll put them into Jurassic Park:

Jurassic Park (in case you just fell to earth from Mars), is a movie in which a genetics company develops a way to clone dinosaurs in present times.  Awesome.  Their first step is to make an amusement park so everyone can see them.  Things go bad, everyone dies, and then it happens two more times.

Take into consideration, that the company Ingen that Hammond runs, is actually the good guys in the story.  In the background is this shady, evil company, that ruthlessly murders people to get their hands on the dna for the dinosaurs.  It doesn't work in the end, but who says that's the end?  Since it's obvious that the world finds out about it, and then, in movie two, we see them rear up again to steal a T-rex.

But... that's where things get... odd.

Remember, on the ship, everyone was ripped apart, but a creature that was in no way a t-rex.  It is an impossibility, that a t-rex, while locked up in cargo, was able to get out and kill people in their bunks, or in the ships control room.  Seriously, someone had to either sneak raptors on the ship, or someone went ninja on them and blamed "creatures".

Imagine that it's all part of the plan.  That evil shadow company from the first film, is intentionally releasing a t-rex into the general public.  Just a regular, t-rex, not one genetically modified to have lasers or anything special.  Look at the havoc and destruction it does.  That seems less like a accident, and more like a trial run.  Can you imagine weaponizing a t-rex?

Now, take into consideration that they can clone dinosaurs, why not humans?  They show it in their little movie.  Is it possible they can clone people with their memories intact?  (Like how Hammond and others die in the first book, but are there in the second?)  If they can do that, how many times could they have done it?  Could they have used it as a test run?

Imagine that they didn't just select the people from the first movie at random, they grabbed people that Hammond had complete access to: his two kids (one well educated in dinosaurs, the other a 90s hacking wizard), two experts in that field (both also in good physical condition), and a brilliant... guy?  Also an Aussie hunter (Australian is practically a military rank), big bad asses from all over... and toss them into this "park".  Clone them, and run it again, like a simulation.

Then, Phase Two: Lost World, they send them to an isle with military structures, and send teams specifically designed to fight dinos... only to watch them get demolished by nature.  How many times did they run that test?

Take into consideration, that this Shadow Corp wants this.  They want the money, the power, the ability to create giant monsters.  Why though?  Why go through all this trouble?  Unless they're smarter than we thought...

Imagine if in the first movie, it's all already happened as the book said it did.  The people who died, died, the people who lived, lived... but the Shadow Corp actually did get what they needed. So they run simulations to test it, over and over... the bodies were likely still there on the isle, in one form or another, and all the dinos are dead from that contingency plan.

Imagine if... the Shadow Corp owned Hammond the whole time.  They let him build up this image of being "the leader", and then let him take the fall at the end of the Lost World.  Now he's gone, and they've still got all they need: all the facilities to breed dinos, governments begging for giant war monsters, the ability to clone anyone,  and they get to have the profits of Disney while they do it.

They've won so hard, it's hardly a challenge.  They're beyond supervillains at this time.  They're monetary gods.

Now... imagine what you'd have to do to stop them..

Goddamn Morons...

Sometimes, even the smartest character becomes a massive idiot for the sake of lazy writing.  It's goddamn annoying to watch a person who just solved a mystery, stand with their back to the man who "kills people with hidden knives" for a full minute while the hero explains that no one else but he knows about it.

Even in good stories, sometimes people just utterly fail at basic survival instinct.  I sometimes wonder if characters in these worlds accidentally eat plates because they forgot where food ended.  Here are some of my worst offenders.

Defiance:
(mild spoilers here, it doesn't amount to much in the show)
Quentin finds the knot that his brother was killed over, then, a man shows up to his house and tries to kill him over it.  Then, the boss of that man, shows up at his house, causes hell, and leaves with the INCREDIBLY CRYPTIC "if you want to know what happened to your mother, come find me".  Like a sudden idiot he does...
This is where he fails every "sense motive" and "intelligence" check his DM asked for.
He meets her, and she will only tell him if he gives her the knot... so he does.  She then spins this long tale about his mother... and he believes her, and leaves her there.  Why?  Seriously now... this woman is evil, she lies professionally, why would he believe a single word that came out of her?
Also in the list of "idiot moves" he leaves her with the knot... he doesn't even try to take it back.  She's what, 70?  Has breathing problems? Can barely walk?  He killed a man in a fist fight, after being hit with a tazer.  There is no way he should let her leave with it.  She can't even say anything out loud, because she doesn't want anyone to know of this things existence.

The man could have pulled it back off the table, and walked out of the restaurant, and dared her to limp after him.  I'd of tossed in something like "thanks for agreeing to speak at my sisters wedding!" just to leave her unable to reply.

Queen City police don't understand criminals:
Arrow is a great show, lots of fun, clever bits in it... then police tend to be morons.  No wonder no one has figured out that the mysterious man with skills that come from years of survival in a harsh land, might be the man who came back the same day the vigilante appeared, is covered in combat scars, and survived in a harsh land for years.  It would be too obvious if the same man had a near limitless fortune which allowed him to pay for any of the severely high tech tools needed for hunting criminals at night.

Besides the point.

Every time the police capture a criminal, and hold them at gunpoint, they approach them slowly.  The first three times, it's forgivable when the ninja master spins around, disarms and beats them into blue paste.  But after the tenth time, there needs to be a workshop on "how to not get disarmed by these roving bands of ninjas".
"Officer Hart, it seems you shot the Joker in both of his knee caps."
"Yes sir, I did."
"Why? You had him at gun point, you should have cuffed him!"
"Sir, he's killed more people than Polpot at that distance.  He's also a lot easier to capture now that he needs two canes."
"But... but..."
"Who's going to be angry with me?  I intentionally wounded a mass murdering domestic terrorist with a history of killing police who have him at gunpoint..."

Or this:
Joker: "You caught me copper! I surrender..."
Cop: *bang, bang, bang, bang, bang*
Joker: *is dead*
Cop 2: "Why? He surrendered?"
Cop 1: "He always says that, then he kills someone, or blows something up."
Cop 2: "But how will we stop his bombs?!"
Cop 1: "We don't, we never stop them, Batman will do it."
Cop 2: "You can't know that for sur-"
Batman: "I stopped the bombs, too bad Joker got a...way... oh."

Seriously, if any of that happened... I'd be ok with it.

Armor Results

Yesterday was Balfar's Challenge, and also the first field battle test for my modified armor suit. Here are the results:

Head 8/10: Padding was fantastic, not even a smashing blow from a man who I'm pretty sure wanted the marshals to carry my limp body off the field could even stun me.  Strategic padding kept me from a weakspot, and the sound dampening kept ringing down and still let me hear orders.  Only draw back was on the chinstrap, though comfortable, a good solid blow that shook the helm sideways could slide it up infront of my face.  Not a massive issue, considering that if such a thing happens, I likely will have the time to adjust myself while I'm dead.  Should be able to fix that easily.

New Fix: a small bit of soft cloth attached to the forehead pad; hood rubs raw, and the padding leaves a red mark.

Neck N/A: Did not take a hit to the neck, but it was comfortable, non-imparing, and the only issue I found was that I would have prefered a bit more snug feel.  Might cover it in soft cloth.

Body Mid 9/10: The main part of the armor held up like a dream, the modified segmentation allowed me a great range of movement without sacrificing good solid protection all the way around.  It was comfortable, allowed fantastic flexibility, and saved my squishy bits like nothing else.  Only drawback was the adhesive I used for the fur didn't exactly hold up on my left side with my shield arm constantly rubbing against it.  Might have been more of a "why is my shield as heavy as a pony" issue, but it's an easy fix.

New Fix: Might sew some of the sheepskin onto it, and use a stronger adhesive.

Hanging Side plate on the right kept getting caught in my leggings, really annoying, but not so much a hinderance.  Might have a good fix for it in the near future, we'll see.

Pauldrons N/A:  While they were light, and very stylish, my shoulders didn't take a single hit, so my special padding and under coat were not truly tested unfortunately.  Might have been that the addition of the ragged black fur, as well as being sexy, made it hard to know where my shoulder was, resulting in numerous "near hits" as blades fell aside.  Didn't think about that, now I'm going to see if I can keep that working for me.

Legs: 10/10: Legs performed like a dream.  Light, fantastically padded protection, not a single leg injury in combat.  The only injury came from a test hit where Kevin slammed me harder than anyone could feasibly pull off (I literally held my leg up and out for him to use as an anvil).  The custom knee joints left my knees fully protected from the front and sides, while being small and allowing me to run with such ease I had little problem dancing around groups of fighters.  I took a pole arm to the side of the knee, and barely felt it, and the fit was beautiful.  Little tweaking at home, and now they're just comfier than before.  I hardly notice them at all.

New Fix: changed the belt to be a bit more secure, and the ties to be permanent, now I'll only have to put it on and never worry if my tie is coming lose.

Arms: Elbows 8/10: Modified elbows fit snugly, and I had no issue with sliding as the gauntlets kept them tightly in place.  Hits on them were held off by form and padding, and the only thing I'd do different is a bit of sewing to make sure the straps don't weaken, and a bit of hiding on the standout white.  Not an issue at all with movement, I hardly noticed them after a minute or three.

New Fix: Might disguise them as cloth tied around the elbow.

Arms: Vambraces: 8/10 for Right, 3/10 for Left.  Right arm felt fin, and had no issues at all with it, just a bit of comfort nuances that can be fixed with a bit of padding here and there, but nothing that was really an issue.  Left arm had serious issues as that my shield pushed my vambrace into the bones of my wrist whenever my shield was not raised in combat.  My arm went numb by the end of the day, and ached terribly.  A better shield would have helped, but I might need to keep an eye on this in the future, as it could be an injury waiting to happen.

Gauntlets: I only used my left, under the shield, and it felt fine.  I'm certain that the right would have been fine as well (the ones I borrowed were uncomfortable and made my hand slow), and I think with a bit of tweaking I could have a set that no one could contest.


Overall Rating 9/10: I took no injuries, and it felt great on me.  Three things stood out;

Maneuverability: I was fast, and felt no hindurance while fighting.
Weight: My armor felt like it was not there for most of the battles, I could have worn it for days.
Heat: Unlike many of the other fighters near me, I was completely cool for the bulk of the fighting.  With my armor being designed to protect key places and sync together, it left a lot of little places for air to get inside and keep me cool and flowing.  There was no issue with the fur, as it was not on my body but held away, and the open face of the guard allowed easy breathing and ventilation the whole time.

I could see, breath, and move, like I was just out for a stroll.  Next on my list for building: Minor Shin Guards, disguised as boot toppers (just incase), coverings for my hanging side plates that hide and keep them from catching on things (thinking of making one look like a fur hanging, and the other like a pouch to keep auth cards and rule books in there), cool designs on the helm (because.. you know, coolness).

New Project: Weapons.

Madness, Methods, and Moral Ambiguity

Madness... insanity...  confusion...

These are the typical creative points behind crafting a story's villain, it's easy really.  You take a man, and you add one of these by removing something else.  Remove a man's morals, and you find yourself with a man who is unbound by rule; then you simply add either Madness, or Confusion to this mix.  A confused man with no morals will do random things, and should one of them clash with society, you now have a man who doesn't believe in apologies angry with the world.

That's bad.

You take another man, and you remove his sense of worth, and you then add in Madness; resulting in a man who cares little for his own sake, but is unpredictable and devious. 

This is a functional way to create the base villain for a story... it's also exactly what I want to smash with a hammer for "#Villain".

You see, the problem with insanity is it's general function: insane people want the world to make sense to them.  Delusions start when someone who's got mixed up wiring forces the world to fit a viewpoint they need to exist.  The world does not make sense, so they force it to do so.  This driving need is what pushes them to extremes such as violence and expensive themed outfits.

... and this is the way to make a compelling villain.

A sane person knows the world doesn't make sense at all, and just accepts it, but what is sense?  Sense is when things are the way they should be, for good reasons.  Chocolate is good, as is peanut butter, so therefore them together must be awesome.  It's logical.  Mint is good, as it orange juice, but combine them and it's awful.  We hate that, but it's life, sometimes two good things don't make a great thing. 

To a madman, this cannot stand.

See, sane people want the world to make sense, but they lack the frothing desire to force it to when it fails.  It's where the tagline for the book "#Villain" comes from:

"The difference between sanity, and madness, is that sanity isn't infectious."

Fun quote, yes, but it goes deeper.

We all have voices inside our heads, they tell us to do things daily: "pick up the trash", "go to work", or "I really want good New York pizza..."  Mostly they're innocuous commands that make sense; trash is bad, work is needed, and pizza is fantastic.  We also have those... other ones: "She's hot, I should grab her", "my boss is a dick, can't report him and stay hired... I could hit him with a chair," or "if this person doesn't maintain the same speed on the highway, I'm running them off the road".

For the most part, normal people ignore these voices, or beat them with reason: "it's wrong to grab people", "killing my boss isn't an option", and "I can't kill stupid people."  We counter-justify why we do or don't do things, as to a moral standing and social contract.  Conversely, a madman does not adhere to either of those... but why?

To a madman, the world can't just not make sense, it has to.  They work tirelessly to make the world fit their view, whether it means they have to eat crayons and attempt to shit the rainbow, or burn down the IRS building so that they understand "extenuating circumstances", a madman's goal isn't to unbalance the world, but put it back into balance.

This is where madness becomes infectious, because it's easy to drown out the voices that tell you "my neighbor parks on my lawn... I'll burn his car", when it's just you.  When suddenly there's a man shouting that we shouldn't have to deal with crippling social issues because we can fix the world... well, that's harder.

There's so much in the world that happens, but doesn't make sense: student loans (as my topic of the day is), are in effect; the stupidest idea in the history of education.  The idea that you take a person who's dedicating years of their life to learning something important, and you monetize it to the point where it takes them longer than their total lifespan to repay you... you've just put a wall between society and progress.  As this grows, the wall gets taller, and the rift gets bigger.  You'd think that making it easy for people to better themselves would benefit all of mankind, instead of burning mankind to the ground so that one can be king of the ashes...

... then some crazy man comes around and says "I don't care about your 'rules', your rules only serve to keep you in place, it's not 'the rules' it's "your rule", as if over us.  I will tear down your wall, and you with it.  You're creating something you know will bite you, but your motive is that you'll outlive it, or out distance it when it tries.  Your rule doesn't make sense, therefore... fuck your rule."

Congrats!  We all are slightly agreeing with a madman... the world doesn't make sense, but this guy is saying that he can make it do so.  Not that he can "show you how it makes sense", but literally "force it into making sense".

He's telling you he can make mint and orange taste as good as chocolate and peanut butter... and if you're really invested in your enjoyment of oranges juice and mint, you'll listen.  I mean, what's it going to hurt to just listen...

Fencing, Armored, and Hand-To-Hand: Function.

Today's topic is a discussion about fighting, and the reason one should be on the field.

I've known many fighters over the years, good ones, great ones, ones who probably are a greater danger to themselves than others.   I've met new fighters, old fighters, and ones who seem to always be "just starting out".  I've met people who've never swung a weapon who are incredible fighters, and lifelong martial artists who are in no way fighters.  Generally, I like most of them.

Most.

There are, however, the type of fighters that I cannot stand.  A smaller, select group of people for whom fighting is less about "the culmination of skill and fortitude pitted against a challenger" and more "I win".  I hate fighting "winners".  Winners are people who win at things, but do not enjoy them.  The like the victory lap, not the race itself.  These people are basically the most annoying people to do any sort of fighting with.  From sparring to competing, they care only for winning, no matter the cost.

This is not to say that competitive people are wrong, being competitive can be amazing, and a competitive person can be the best person to fight on the field.  These people usually -love- the challenges they face, and overcoming them, not just being the guy at the top of the hill.

In the SCA, I come across "Winners" every so often, people who'd do anything to win.  This includes: not counting blows, using trick shots above actual form (if it's only functional because of the SCA rules, it's not real form), who use armor exploits (rhino hiding, or wearing clothing that makes combat calibration impossible), and basically anyone who exploits or blatently cheats to win.  This is the most frustrating thing to fight against, not because one loses, but because one was cheated out of the reason one showed up.

We came to fight.

One should fight as if victory means little to them, and give each person they fight their very best game.  No, this does not mean "destroy each foe with no mercy", but don't let someone win because beating them would be too easy.  Give them more than they can take, and win, but don't ruin it for everyone.  My number ONE rule of conduct on the field "DON'T BE THAT GUY!".  Don't be the guy who no one wants to fight.  We want to fight the toughest fighter and win, that's an awesome victory.  We want to be the guy who defeats an army on his own.  We want to have a great story to tell later.  We don't want to be the guy who people passive-aggressively refuse to fight, because it's annoying.

This includes those who fight in a way that can be described as "proper" but is still "fuck-all-annoying" to stand against.  Someone who's specialty is "really fast blows to a target area that wouldn't really work, but it wins the match", or one who is constantly rushing in face-to-face in fencing, making calibration impossible.  (Note: don't rush in bodily in fencing, or don't complain when you nearly get skewered by someone because you tried to combat-hug them.)

There are no shortcuts in martial arts, no one learns to be a master swordsman in a few short weeks of training (despite what movies tell you), one can learn all of the skills in a single night, and still not have the ability to use them.  There is no "accelerated program" there is no way to turn you from a novice, into a master.  Even in Rocky, all the skill he used in his fight with Apollo was present at the beginning of the movie, the montage was just him pushing to the limit.  He didn't learn a new skill, he mastered his current ones.

Fighting those that will use exploits, or basic cheating, to win is the most frustrating thing to encounter.  One steps up, and delivers oneself in a upfront manner, and one is not beaten, not even defeated, just robbed of the challenge.  We do not fight because winning is awesome, we fight because the fight is awesome, and winning is fun.

This entry is not born out of bitterness, but the notion that this should be a clear example in the minds of all who fight in things such as the SCA.  We came here, as friends, to beat eachother with things until someone is declared dead.  Friends don't cheat against friends, they don't bend the rules to give themselves an advantage over their friends.  Those that cannot beat their friends on the field, should strive to be good enough to beat them.  Those that can easily beat their friends, should strive to help them learn.

Take it from me; the man who spent his life either woefully behind, or leagues ahead of everyone he fought with: life is better when those around you are good enough to be a solid challenge.  Being the worst is frustrating, and being the best is boring, and both ruin your good time.

Fur, Hunting, GMO's, and other things Hippies Hate.

Currently, I'm working on my SCA armor, by making it more period and less "bulky black plastic".  The issue with this is my persona is Viking, who did not wear much in the way of "protection", and what they did is not acceptable for SCA.   This leaves me with one of two options: wear big clothing over my armor to hide it, or cover it in fur and leather.  I choose option two.

The issue for me is that I don't wear, or use, fur for hobby needs.  I was raised in the old school methods of hunting: You eat what you kill, and you waste nothing.  This means that I will wear a leather jacket, because I will eat the hell out of a cow.  If chicken made good leather, I would wear chicken leather.  I don't particularly like rabbit fur, because there isn't a market for rabbit meat, and it requires a ton of rabbits to be used for anything other than food.

I like venison, and deer hide is very nice.  Also, those antlers have many practical uses.  What I won't wear, is wolf pelts, because there is no market at all for wolf meat.  The North American wolf has been hunted to the point where we're not even sure if they truly exist anymore.  Every so often, a wolf is seen somewhere in the north mid-west, but it's like Bigfoot at this point.  There is no point to hunting wolves: we don't eat them, their fur is not large enough to make even a blanket out of, and it's not like we need protection from them.

So, I use as much fake fur as possible when making my armor pretty.  Fun fact: I use wool, that's been made to look like sheepskin, which does nothing but make me laugh.  Using these materials, I can hide all the stuff that makes my armor non-period, and nothing was killed for no good reason to have it.

Speaking of that, I support hunting.  Why? Because if you live in this area, you have to either support the consuming of animals, or you can starve.  New England's weather dictates that we cannot have vegetables for half the year.  From late September to practically May, the area is a frozen wasteland.  I've been told that we shouldn't hunt/wear/fur/eat meat, because it's cruel to animals.

Strangely, this is usually told to me by a person who tells me never to eat GMO's or processed food...

Two things that are a part of any non-homegrown vegetable, which we've explained can't be grown here for long periods of time.  This means that I have to buy them, and they're expensive as hell.  One cannot buy all this "farm fresh" food, or from a farmers market, and expect to survive during the winter months.  There's a reason there's nearly no giant farms in New England.

Two deer, with a small stock of vegetables, rice, and various other bits one can acquire during the summer months, can feed two people throughout the winter.  Which is how a lot of people I know up here, tend to get through those months.  No, they're not risking starvation, they're basically offsetting their bills with smaller food bills.  Done right, someone could cut the purchase of meat out of their budget, imagine if you only paid for canned vegetables for two months.  That's about $1 per meal?  50c if you can cook well.  That means your food budget for the two months, is around $40.  Add in the cost of meat, and $40 is a single purchase.

Hunting, is a viable financial undertaking.  Unless it's cut by huge costs for licences, permits, gun/bow and ammo costs, bad winters and just plain bad luck.  Good hunters know that you can't just kill ten random deer, you have to harvest like you were farming them.  Take the ones that have bred, or are pushing into over population.  Remember those wolves we killed? They helped keep deer from exploding and dying off, we sort of have to take up that task now.

So, if you want to live the "cleaner life", where you don't spend your days shoveling chemicals into your body as fast as possible in a race with death, you have to either be very wealthy, or have the ability to hunt and gather your own food.

You know, like the persona's we take in the SCA did.

Politics, Facebook, and You.

Dear Reader, Friend, Alien in a human disguise,

This is how my view on politics is formed:

Firstly, the astute person would notice that my friends come from a wide background, especially in politics.  This is, of course, a large issue with most people including myself. It's hard to be friends with someone who's political views are different than your own, especially in the radical times we live in.  That is completely the point of it all.

Having a friend who's a stalwart Republican, and a friend who's a dyed in the wool Democrat, means that you can no longer say things such as "all Republican's want women to be raped", or "all Democrats want to burn the constitution", because you've got a friend who doesn't think that way.  Then again, I have friends who sort of do stand on sides of those fences.

The point is not to live in an echo chamber; where you spend your days only being spoonfed the things you like to hear.  I may not like what is posted, but I'll always consider it.  This keeps me from being the dreaded "uninformed" that both parties hate (especially the ones that refuse to look at the other sides merits... oddly enough).

There are, however, a few things that I just immediately discredit, and ignore all those who hold to the mentality of:

Pro-Rape: we know this group, they're the ones who believe in "asking for it", "rights of the rapist", and frequently support the right of groups of men to control women's bodies.  It's not feminism to realize you might not be qualified to regulate that.

Anti-Muslim: This one, ironically, has been pushed hardest by the most religious people I know.  This includes claiming the president is a Muslim in a derogatory way.  If Obama was a Muslim, why would it matter? He can literally and legally be a devote Jedi in this country.

Racist/Homophobic/Sexist:  This does in fact include the women who believe men are pigs.

Super/Anti-Religion: Mostly, I don't care what someone believes in (just believe! Ehehhe.. I quoted Shepard Book in a blog...), for the most part, you can literally believe in the Jedi order, I might have a bit of an issue with it, since I believe the Sith are the better order of the two (honesty, love, and inner strength, suck it Jedi).  I just can't stand the constant "you must be this holy to live on this planet" mentality.  Also, I've yet to meet a full on Athiest who I considered "Bright".  Just saying.

It's really not that hard, having a political mindset.  Find people who don't agree with your basic political views, and have them constantly challenge yours.  It makes you smarter, and sharper.  It's like sparring, but with a greater risk of violence.

Liking Things: Everyone's First Mistake

As a person who does things, I'm frequently met by the killer of all fun times; the guy who does the "better" version.  We all know that particular individual, either they did it first, or they did something different that was in someway better than what you do.  For the sake of vagueness, we'll focus on today's topic: the SCA.

Years ago while I was prepping my armor (before I broke, and attempted to remove my face), I was working on a rooftop with this guy my own age.  We both liked swords, hitting people with those swords, and then spending time on exactly how we could hit people with swords better.  Should have been the Easybake Oven of friendship.

I explained the SCA, and he laughed.

He explained that the SCA wasn't like real combat, because they used modern armor and "baseball bats" for weapons.  Also, they had all these rules on limbs, and points, and all manner of things that turned it from a "martial activity" to basically a LARP with shinier armor.

I let him have this moment, not because I am benevolent, but because his shining example of warrior prowess was that he was a reenactment fighter.  They wore real historical armor, and used real swords.  It was all very impressive until one remembered that reenactors are only allowed to hit certain parts of the body (parts that are specifically armored), and use only certain attack styles to give a better show.

It's full contact playfighting, and there wasn't anything wrong with that.

The issue comes from the mentality, that in order for his system to be worthy, mine has to be weak and flawed.  This is the trap that so many fighters (SCA, Martial artists, and much else) fall into: they close off so much else, because they want to do the "right" hobby.

Many of my martial artists friends will look down on a martial art, or elevate one based on the silliest notions.  My two favorites: "Street" practicality, and "Hitting".  The first being how useful something would be in a "street" fight, which is like asking which gun you'd like to own based on the color of the shirt of the man you plan to shoot with it.  There is no such thing as an "average" street fight. They are all different, and in truth, spending years mentality preparing your mind to defend yourself will save you more than which style of punching you use/don't use.

"Muay thai is the best because they actually hit eachother in training!"  "They hit wooden poles instead of soft bags, so they're stronger!"  I've heard every argument for the "best" martial art, and this argument is brought up each time: that hurting yourself makes you a better fighting.  If that were true, all you'd need is a sledgehammer and a free afternoon without shoes, and by dinner you'd be Goku.  Pain does not equal good training, it usually means the opposite.  Hurting yourself in training is the singular dumbest thing one can do.  Training yourself to use a technique that hurts you when your life isn't on the line, is asking for injury in the field.

If I were to thrust so far that I almost blew out my knee while I practiced, risking that with a person trying to hit my with a piece of metal is asinine.

These two mentalities will ruin someone as a person.  There is no style/hobby that is greater than the others because... it's simply that enjoyment is enjoyment.  I have done SCA, LARP, D&D, MMOs, and a list of other things for so many years I can't even remember the start date anymore.  It's just a part of life.  Enjoyment of things widely popular shouldn't be something to be ashamed of, a guilty pleasure isn't "liking to spend your weekends dressed as an elf, stabbing orcs", a guilty pleasure is enjoying actual murder.

Many people in the SCA look down on LARP, and while I'm not into LARPing, I can see where it would be awesomely fun.  Me?  I would enjoy it more if the weapons weren't foam, and it was like the SCA in regards to combat.  Seriously, how awesome would a DnD themed SCA event be?  A weekend of orcs, elves, magic, with all the normal SCA fixings of battles, taverns, songs, and general fun?  We'd all sign up for that.

Many fencers look down on sport fencers, completely forgetting that they're also "sport" fencers.  I prefer to use the terms "Swashbuckling" or "European swordwork" when explaining it to people who can't tell the difference between a rapier and an electric foil.  It's not their fault, it's my hobby.

Many heavy fighters look down on things like LARP, or Ampgarde (is that still a thing?), or reenactors, forgetting that they too are looked down upon by ACL fighters, who are looked down upon by people who actually kill people with live steel.

We're all people enjoying hobbies, to the degree we enjoy them.  Using how much pain we endure, or how "realistic" it is (realistic swordfights allow throwing, thrusts to anywhere, and throwing sand in your face), as a measure for how much "better" it is than another... it's stupid.

Seriously though... I want a fantasy themed, SCA style event... that would be ballin'.

Monologging

If you've never watched a single instant of a super-hero movie/show/comic/story, you still probably understand the concept of monologging.  To see a villain completely explain all the details of their plan to a hero because... no one got it up until that time.

While it's a hubris, it's also one that all clever people share, it's hard to be the sort who thinks deeply about something, or makes a massive plan, and then realize that it will happen, and the bulk of people will have no clue how you did it.

It only leads to you wanting to drown the city in radioactive goo even more.

It's the same for writers, we tend to spend hours upon hours going over tiny details that will never be the focus of our readership.  Tiny things that to an astute reader, might just pass them by.  A detail that took us months of focus and thought to shape so that it has an incredible impact on the story, but is almost unseen by the naked eye. 

Two Examples from my own work:

In one story (sci-fi) a robot speaks entirely in a style of speech that I spent months perfecting: a third person, non-possessive.  Meaning that they speak in such a way that they claim no ownership of anything, not even themselves.  "One is pleased to see you" or "One would like to ask if..."  they cannot possess anything, not even the clothes they might wear.  This was done so that later in the story, (after a singularity) the slight shift in their dialogue would show the slight shift in their personality, without beating the reader over the head with it. 

The other is from the Iron Rose, which has in it, a small thread of the main characters physiology, that is a constant throughout the story.  This singular "thing" has been a game changing point in every endeavor that the character has done.  The third book, coming out this year (hopefully), brings this to light.  At this point, the reader could return to the other stories, look at them and say to themselves "that's how that happened..." 

Unfortunately when this is unknown, it appears as a plot hole.  "How can she do that, when he failed at it moments before?"  "That doesn't make sense, those creatures could tear a building down in the last chapter, but here they can't even open a door?"  It all makes sense with the reveal, one that I left hidden for two books. 

So... as a writer, you almost want to hold people, and scream the answer to them.  You want to scream all the little secrets into their faces.  Not because they can't understand it, but because you spent so long hiding it in plainsight, hoping they'd pick up on it... and you did it well.

They don't know.

They won't know until you allow them.

You feel like you have to explain these details to them, or they'll never understand the whole world...

... it's maddening.

The Absence of Hate

I started to learn to fight at age six.  Whether it was my brother's enlistment in the Army, or him being an instructor at that age that made me want to do it, I'm not sure.  Could have been watching all those sword fighting movies.

To this day, the fact that I'm usually quiet, long haired, and have an affinity for swords and long coats has nothing to do with watching "Vampire Hunter D" at that age.  Nothing at all.

But, it was at that age that I wanted to learn to swordfight.  I played with my brother a bit, and took karate (I played with the swords when no one was looking, and tried to knife the punching bag, but that's another story), all while believing in the dream of being fantastic.

For a while I was good, I felt good, I moved good.  I won most fights in the schoolyard, as one will do when one is trained and fighting against untrained children.  It was a good time, but I never felt... whole.  I never felt as if I was Me.  I did the techniques, I could recite all the moves, and I was sparring three ranks above my belt.  Unfortunately karate bored me, it wasn't Me.

I drifted away, really focused on weapons for a long while, and I got good.  At sixteen, I was beating men who's career was swordfighting.  I went to work at a Renn faire, and did not lose a single sword fight (which, if you know the people who do that for fun, is impressive), blades I understood.  Still, I didn't feel it.

One day, soon after turning 18, my brother brought me to his Wing Chun class, and damn, did that feel good.  For the longest while, I did not feel as though my knowledge worked for me, it's hard to believe in martial arts, when every movement feels unnatural.  Here, however, things worked.  For the first time I did not feel as though I was going through motions, but truly understanding the art.  I despise forms, but it worked.  I excelled in other areas, I felt better about it than any other fighting style I had done.  In a world of experimentation, this worked.

Still though, empty inside.

Then, a few years later, after college had interrupted my training, I traveled back and met a man who taught Tai Chi.  He taught the long form, and I was bored on a Saturday, and I had $20 to spend... so I went to a class.

As I explained in the last entry, it was not a concept that eluded me.

This felt good, better than good.  This filled that emptiness like nothing else.  The handwork, the footwork, the bladework, the mentality.  Everything synced in a way that nothing else has since.  Those who've worked with me know that I can't even explain it properly, this just flows from me like water through a stream.  For the first time in ages, I had to be careful when sparring, because I put people through things like walls.  I uprooted people who boast "ummovable" as a reputation.  I excelled in a way that felt so natural, I still feel nostalgic about it.

Then, overnight, it was taken away.

The man who ran the school changed his program; instead of Tai chi for an hour or two, it was stretching for twenty minutes, followed by forty of tai chi, then Iato, then "guided meditation".  In order to be a part of the other classes, I had to buy the full hamaka, sword (his prefered model, not the one I owned), and pay $100 for the class, instead of $20.  If I paid by "direct deposit" it went down to $80.  My time when from two hours, to barely forty minutes, and I had to pay five time as much.

I was in luck, because he told me that I could pay the original $20 instead, and just stay for the Tai chi.  So I did that, and for a month it worked well.  He was not the sort who enjoyed the idea of "other" martial arts.  All others were lesser and weaker than his Ninjutsu, even this Tai chi was a "lesser style", but he taught it so I stayed (and other schools were still expensive, and were... umm... bad.  Tai chi should not look like the "robot").

After a month and a half, I was informed by him that I was suddenly behind in "payments", because "he had offered to let me pay a discounted rate, but for each class rather than each month."  For those playing the home game; 20X4= 80.  It was not a discount, but "a payment plan where I could pay at the end of each month, instead of each week".  Also known as "paying the same as I told you that you wouldn't."

After I left the school, he followed me for a bit, and tried to raise a commotion about it where he could, usually in very personal ways.  Remember, this was a man who basically lied to a student to get more money out of them, deciding that personally insulting someone was the way to go.  I was suddenly aware of why he was always complaining of "losing students" in his ninjutsu program.

After all this, I still can't bring myself to hate the man.  Despite all the insults, the way he made an effort to embarass me before the entire class because "I couldn't afford $80 a month?", still don't hate him.  I just let him go about his merry way, and wonder if his schools even still in business (I don't check), and it's not out of spite. For all this mans' childish and greedy behavior, I remember that he gave me something that to this day I love.  He gave me something that fit me better than anything else, and as long as I have that, I can't hate where it came from.

Remember this next time you feel the need to hate someone, because hate is that little thing in your life that is what happens when you have an absence of love for something.  The absence of hate is not love, but educational apathy.  I will never fully forget him, or the problems he caused, because I still study Tai chi.  As long as I do, I will remember that he taught me first, and he did all those things.  I learned valuable lessons about life because of what he did, and while I do not like him.

Can't bring myself to hate a man who gave me something like this.