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.
Friday, March 28, 2014
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
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'.
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'.
Monday, March 17, 2014
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.
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.
Thursday, March 13, 2014
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
The Man on the Mountain
Today I've spent my time trying to figure out a suitable last name for the SCA. Originally, we went with a name that means "from the mountain", because it was a long night of drinking and everyone agreed it fit me best. Not because I lived on the mountain, but for another reason altogether.
I am, was, and have always been; the man on the mountain.
Not in the sense of altitude, but isolation from what I am and do. I am stuck, far away from others like me, if there even are others like me. Various points:
When my friends wanted to start training in martial arts, I was far more advanced than they were, so I was simply put in the position of teacher. When I wanted to join the SCA for heavy list, I was far more advanced with swords than my friends, so I was put in the position of teacher. When I chose to take up fencing, I was alone, so I trained alone for months, then into years. After all this time, I finally have friends who fence...
... and I end up having to teach.
When you're the only one who does what you do, you have two choices; be alone with it, or show it to others. Yet, it will always come down to that problematic issue of "in order for them to actually stand beside me, I must spend years teaching them". I have to spend years instructing others how to fight like me, in order to have someone to fight.
When I finally found a teacher in Tai Chi, I was thrilled, I finally had a place to learn under someone. I didn't care that he was egotistical, and really, a poor teacher. After years of being a master, I could finally be the student I had wished to be. I absorbed this style like it was a part of me. In a single year, I moved from being the new guy in class, to one of the most advanced. (Rankings were: less progressed students stood in the back, and worked their way forward as they learned more of the style and form, in a year, I went from knowing nothing, to literally being ahead of the students who had been there for years).
I was also better at practicality, and I took to the sword in a manner that shocked each instructor. I was then told the program was ending, and they had changed the price to five times what it was... and expected me to pay the upgraded price for the months I had been there. I did not return.
There has been no one else I can train under in Tai Chi. I live too far, or they do not practice. I find myself constantly removed from instruction. I am good at this, but I find that I can never be better.
In a world of students, I'm the one called master, and it's frustrating.
I've not given up, but it's still hard to look at the world of people who just seem to stumble over people who can show them what they want, and be the man who gets to watch.
I am, was, and have always been; the man on the mountain.
Not in the sense of altitude, but isolation from what I am and do. I am stuck, far away from others like me, if there even are others like me. Various points:
When my friends wanted to start training in martial arts, I was far more advanced than they were, so I was simply put in the position of teacher. When I wanted to join the SCA for heavy list, I was far more advanced with swords than my friends, so I was put in the position of teacher. When I chose to take up fencing, I was alone, so I trained alone for months, then into years. After all this time, I finally have friends who fence...
... and I end up having to teach.
When you're the only one who does what you do, you have two choices; be alone with it, or show it to others. Yet, it will always come down to that problematic issue of "in order for them to actually stand beside me, I must spend years teaching them". I have to spend years instructing others how to fight like me, in order to have someone to fight.
When I finally found a teacher in Tai Chi, I was thrilled, I finally had a place to learn under someone. I didn't care that he was egotistical, and really, a poor teacher. After years of being a master, I could finally be the student I had wished to be. I absorbed this style like it was a part of me. In a single year, I moved from being the new guy in class, to one of the most advanced. (Rankings were: less progressed students stood in the back, and worked their way forward as they learned more of the style and form, in a year, I went from knowing nothing, to literally being ahead of the students who had been there for years).
I was also better at practicality, and I took to the sword in a manner that shocked each instructor. I was then told the program was ending, and they had changed the price to five times what it was... and expected me to pay the upgraded price for the months I had been there. I did not return.
There has been no one else I can train under in Tai Chi. I live too far, or they do not practice. I find myself constantly removed from instruction. I am good at this, but I find that I can never be better.
In a world of students, I'm the one called master, and it's frustrating.
I've not given up, but it's still hard to look at the world of people who just seem to stumble over people who can show them what they want, and be the man who gets to watch.
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Growing up Gamer
Ugh, it's hard these days to have a sustainable gaming habit.
I've been listening to all these gaming ads claiming to have "the most addictive game ever!" which is like saying "this will suck hours of your life away that you'll have nothing to show for, never get back, and will ruin your body!" Sign me up for that.
Let's start at the beginning...
My first experience with gaming came at the tender age of Five, when my brother had an Atari I wasn't allowed to make any sort of contact with. I remember the Robocop game for it specificaly the way Robocop looked when he died. I did not say my brother was good at this game.
This all changed soon, when we got our first Nintendo Entertainment System... that big grey box. I can still hear the sound the power button made... We had some games for it, not many. I had Mario Bros., not my favorite. We had Double Dragon, one of my favorites of all time. Slowly but surely we got a whole slew of them up and running...
... then we got it.
The Legend of Zelda.
I have never loved a game so much in my life. I sucked at it, it was what? Five? Six? I could hardly figure out how to put items in his hands... but I loved that game. I spent hours just wandering in circles, trying to find things. I descovered more secrets there by just aimlessly ambling about. Nothing compared, I practically ignored the other games.
I played The Adventure's of Link as far as it could go before it made no more sense. I played SNES, to the point where I burned out two controllers. Then came the magical N64.
Zelda came out in '87, '86 in Japan, and basically it made me the same age as Link. Ocarina of Time came out in '98, making Link and me about the same age. Unlike before, I was old enough this time to play this game like it should be.
... and I did.
I beat every single minigame and boss, got the Biggoron Sword, and beat the entire game without using a shield. Water Temple? It was my bitch. Sure, I played other games, beat them. Goldeneye, Perfect Dark, Turok, Duke Nukem, Jet Force Gemini, Rocket: Robot on Wheels, Pokemon, Star Fox, Megaman (1-X, and Legends, and 64), and countless others.
Then, PS1, Xbox, PS2, the 360, computer games... World of Warcraft, I played that game for almost an entire year, day in and day out. I had nothing else to do. Played it throughout college, and for years afterwards. The entire time I've known my wife. Also with a slew of other MMOs, and still console games.
Now, I'm sitting here, looking at the next new thing and wondering if I want it. Sure, MMOs are fun, but what's the point? It's constant work with no reward, I gave up on that years ago, I now usually play ones like Guild Wars 2, where I can just play it as if it were a console game with good AI, because I do nothing but PvP there. That's it, and I enjoy Skyward Sword more. Hell, I'd be playing it right now if I didn't have this to do.
I have done all this while maintaining an active social life, exercising, learning new martial arts, writing half a dozen books (two published, a third on the way, and five more midway through), and I look back and wonder... I've grown up a gamer, but what will I do now that I'm here? I forgo labels such as "Hardcore" or "Casual" since those are stupid and used by stupid people. If by not playing 30hrs a week, I'm Casual, but still rocking you in Left4Dead... you've wasted 30 hours of your life.
I think this is where I leave myself; done with the game that require me to put in a hundred hours of effort to "play". Why should I spend my days fighting tooth and nail for a shiny new armor that someone with nothing else to do got a month ago? Why raid the same instance over, and over, to get a shiny hat that will help me raid the same instance a little better.
I think I am done with MMOs, not because I was addicted, or had problems functioning... but because there's much more to do than play the "You must be this awesome to see the fun part" game.
... but there's a new Zelda game coming out, and yes, I will be getting it. Also Pokemon, because they are fun. Fun is that thing we used to have before someone convinced us games were about hard work.
I've been listening to all these gaming ads claiming to have "the most addictive game ever!" which is like saying "this will suck hours of your life away that you'll have nothing to show for, never get back, and will ruin your body!" Sign me up for that.
Let's start at the beginning...
My first experience with gaming came at the tender age of Five, when my brother had an Atari I wasn't allowed to make any sort of contact with. I remember the Robocop game for it specificaly the way Robocop looked when he died. I did not say my brother was good at this game.
This all changed soon, when we got our first Nintendo Entertainment System... that big grey box. I can still hear the sound the power button made... We had some games for it, not many. I had Mario Bros., not my favorite. We had Double Dragon, one of my favorites of all time. Slowly but surely we got a whole slew of them up and running...
... then we got it.
The Legend of Zelda.
I have never loved a game so much in my life. I sucked at it, it was what? Five? Six? I could hardly figure out how to put items in his hands... but I loved that game. I spent hours just wandering in circles, trying to find things. I descovered more secrets there by just aimlessly ambling about. Nothing compared, I practically ignored the other games.
I played The Adventure's of Link as far as it could go before it made no more sense. I played SNES, to the point where I burned out two controllers. Then came the magical N64.
Zelda came out in '87, '86 in Japan, and basically it made me the same age as Link. Ocarina of Time came out in '98, making Link and me about the same age. Unlike before, I was old enough this time to play this game like it should be.
... and I did.
I beat every single minigame and boss, got the Biggoron Sword, and beat the entire game without using a shield. Water Temple? It was my bitch. Sure, I played other games, beat them. Goldeneye, Perfect Dark, Turok, Duke Nukem, Jet Force Gemini, Rocket: Robot on Wheels, Pokemon, Star Fox, Megaman (1-X, and Legends, and 64), and countless others.
Then, PS1, Xbox, PS2, the 360, computer games... World of Warcraft, I played that game for almost an entire year, day in and day out. I had nothing else to do. Played it throughout college, and for years afterwards. The entire time I've known my wife. Also with a slew of other MMOs, and still console games.
Now, I'm sitting here, looking at the next new thing and wondering if I want it. Sure, MMOs are fun, but what's the point? It's constant work with no reward, I gave up on that years ago, I now usually play ones like Guild Wars 2, where I can just play it as if it were a console game with good AI, because I do nothing but PvP there. That's it, and I enjoy Skyward Sword more. Hell, I'd be playing it right now if I didn't have this to do.
I have done all this while maintaining an active social life, exercising, learning new martial arts, writing half a dozen books (two published, a third on the way, and five more midway through), and I look back and wonder... I've grown up a gamer, but what will I do now that I'm here? I forgo labels such as "Hardcore" or "Casual" since those are stupid and used by stupid people. If by not playing 30hrs a week, I'm Casual, but still rocking you in Left4Dead... you've wasted 30 hours of your life.
I think this is where I leave myself; done with the game that require me to put in a hundred hours of effort to "play". Why should I spend my days fighting tooth and nail for a shiny new armor that someone with nothing else to do got a month ago? Why raid the same instance over, and over, to get a shiny hat that will help me raid the same instance a little better.
I think I am done with MMOs, not because I was addicted, or had problems functioning... but because there's much more to do than play the "You must be this awesome to see the fun part" game.
... but there's a new Zelda game coming out, and yes, I will be getting it. Also Pokemon, because they are fun. Fun is that thing we used to have before someone convinced us games were about hard work.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
CONDOMS THAT SELL YOUR PENIS TO SATAN!
So, as one can ascertain from the title; this blog will be about bad horror movies.
If I just used the first letters of each word in their titles, the amount of bad horror movies made in my lifetime would literally break the word limit.
So, why am I talking about bad horror movies? Because I feel like it, but mostly because it's something strange that we all seem to constantly forget about. And here comes the meanings...
Action movies are an accurate representation of dominant fantasy, where we act out our biggest and bestest fantastical feelings on a big shiny screen. What's the best fantasy? Well, let's see: Pacific Rim. A fantasy where we are awesomely badass ninja fighters who get into even more awesomely badass giant robots and punch epicly awesomely badass giant robots in the face while partnered up with a super hot and super capable badass ninja girl of epic proportions who has like, a whole awesome story behind her and is interesting to talk to and we just eat food and talk about giant robots and punch giant monsters and...
Yeah, this sounds like the greatest male fantasy of all time, and that's fine. It's empowering to have a fantasy of being in such control of fate that the world literally rests on your actions. Also, Hell yes for having an amazing partner. But we've always known this, that Action was fantasy.
Side Note: It's fantasy for women too, Bond is hotter than the Sun, X-Men started Hugh Jackman's abs, The Expendables: a movie literally about old action heroes coming back... stars Jason Statham in tight clothing. Conan the Barbarian: Played by massively muscular half naked men (Mamoa's ass got more screentime than half the supporting cast).
This is also, perfectly fine.
Horror movies on the other hand, they point out things we're afraid of. Here we explore the things that scare people to the core, the tiny fears that dominate a person's life. All the way back to the early days of mankind, humans told two sorts of stories: Horror and Action. One to inspire, the other to warn. Carl Jung explained that these are archtypes, universal to more than one culture.
Then come the parts that are mass produced and easy, the ones that are shots in the dark at an audience. These ones are the subject of this Blog. Yeah, I know, halfway in and we start, just go with it.
Low budget horror is a staple of film, since it's easy to make and easy to purchase a story for. Since they are mass produced, they're a great way to look at a culture as a time piece. They show the fears that are prevelent in society at that time. While each era has it's own certain flair, substituted for the villain of the week (communism, drugs, gangs, devil worship), it usually boils down to the main fears that never leave society.
Teenagers are Fucking Stupid: there are precious few horror movies in which the victims are not teenagers who bring it on themselves in some way. We constantly see teenagers doing things that are insane even to children, but hey, "wacky teens" right? In reality, teens manage to not die more than they die, because the population is expanding.
Technology is EEEVVILLL!: We get this alot, there are two sorts of approaches to tech/science in film: it's either the greatest evil mankind has ever created and it will destroy the world. Or it's just something neat and cool we all like and not the point of the story. Guess which one is horror? Yeah...
Other People: We love other people in horror films. Whether they're "strangers" or from other countries, or from another culture (southerners, northerners, gangsters, business people), we believe these people are all psycho murderers looking to destroy everything we hold dear. Unlike action, in horror, they win, because it's not a warning unless other people die. In our fantasy, we win, we kill them with massive things of awesome.
So, when you look through the low budget horror, you see all sorts of clues as to a generation. Like how it's filled with "demon babies", "evil mothers", "evil girlfriends", "evil old people", "evil doctors" and of course "Evil hillbillies". Evil toys and children are sort of out of style now, and have become more focused on a sort of "glam horror" where it's almost intentionally bad horror.
Aside from all horror writer suddenly being basically manchildren afraid of leaving Never-Neverland, there's an awful lot of these "found footage/ real story" movies, which, I'm sorry, they're not horror. These are rarely "scary" and more often than not rely on "OH MY GOD DID YOU SEE THAT?!!" scare tactics. These are haunted houses, but in your tv.
So yeah, I'm waiting for the horror bro-pocalypse inwhich all movies are things that frighten bros. Demonic Weight benches, protein supplements that make you "not like, gay, but you won't like chicks anymore", protein supplements that make you gay, shades that make everyone not like your hair, creatures that feed off of muscles, and of course; Milfs that seduce young men so that they can steal their things and cut their balls off to make hot girls into evil witches because... like... witchcraft bro...
... and haunted beer.
If I just used the first letters of each word in their titles, the amount of bad horror movies made in my lifetime would literally break the word limit.
So, why am I talking about bad horror movies? Because I feel like it, but mostly because it's something strange that we all seem to constantly forget about. And here comes the meanings...
Action movies are an accurate representation of dominant fantasy, where we act out our biggest and bestest fantastical feelings on a big shiny screen. What's the best fantasy? Well, let's see: Pacific Rim. A fantasy where we are awesomely badass ninja fighters who get into even more awesomely badass giant robots and punch epicly awesomely badass giant robots in the face while partnered up with a super hot and super capable badass ninja girl of epic proportions who has like, a whole awesome story behind her and is interesting to talk to and we just eat food and talk about giant robots and punch giant monsters and...
Yeah, this sounds like the greatest male fantasy of all time, and that's fine. It's empowering to have a fantasy of being in such control of fate that the world literally rests on your actions. Also, Hell yes for having an amazing partner. But we've always known this, that Action was fantasy.
Side Note: It's fantasy for women too, Bond is hotter than the Sun, X-Men started Hugh Jackman's abs, The Expendables: a movie literally about old action heroes coming back... stars Jason Statham in tight clothing. Conan the Barbarian: Played by massively muscular half naked men (Mamoa's ass got more screentime than half the supporting cast).
This is also, perfectly fine.
Horror movies on the other hand, they point out things we're afraid of. Here we explore the things that scare people to the core, the tiny fears that dominate a person's life. All the way back to the early days of mankind, humans told two sorts of stories: Horror and Action. One to inspire, the other to warn. Carl Jung explained that these are archtypes, universal to more than one culture.
Then come the parts that are mass produced and easy, the ones that are shots in the dark at an audience. These ones are the subject of this Blog. Yeah, I know, halfway in and we start, just go with it.
Low budget horror is a staple of film, since it's easy to make and easy to purchase a story for. Since they are mass produced, they're a great way to look at a culture as a time piece. They show the fears that are prevelent in society at that time. While each era has it's own certain flair, substituted for the villain of the week (communism, drugs, gangs, devil worship), it usually boils down to the main fears that never leave society.
Teenagers are Fucking Stupid: there are precious few horror movies in which the victims are not teenagers who bring it on themselves in some way. We constantly see teenagers doing things that are insane even to children, but hey, "wacky teens" right? In reality, teens manage to not die more than they die, because the population is expanding.
Technology is EEEVVILLL!: We get this alot, there are two sorts of approaches to tech/science in film: it's either the greatest evil mankind has ever created and it will destroy the world. Or it's just something neat and cool we all like and not the point of the story. Guess which one is horror? Yeah...
Other People: We love other people in horror films. Whether they're "strangers" or from other countries, or from another culture (southerners, northerners, gangsters, business people), we believe these people are all psycho murderers looking to destroy everything we hold dear. Unlike action, in horror, they win, because it's not a warning unless other people die. In our fantasy, we win, we kill them with massive things of awesome.
So, when you look through the low budget horror, you see all sorts of clues as to a generation. Like how it's filled with "demon babies", "evil mothers", "evil girlfriends", "evil old people", "evil doctors" and of course "Evil hillbillies". Evil toys and children are sort of out of style now, and have become more focused on a sort of "glam horror" where it's almost intentionally bad horror.
Aside from all horror writer suddenly being basically manchildren afraid of leaving Never-Neverland, there's an awful lot of these "found footage/ real story" movies, which, I'm sorry, they're not horror. These are rarely "scary" and more often than not rely on "OH MY GOD DID YOU SEE THAT?!!" scare tactics. These are haunted houses, but in your tv.
So yeah, I'm waiting for the horror bro-pocalypse inwhich all movies are things that frighten bros. Demonic Weight benches, protein supplements that make you "not like, gay, but you won't like chicks anymore", protein supplements that make you gay, shades that make everyone not like your hair, creatures that feed off of muscles, and of course; Milfs that seduce young men so that they can steal their things and cut their balls off to make hot girls into evil witches because... like... witchcraft bro...
... and haunted beer.
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