Now, for those who haven't read through or played this classic epic yet, all the spoilers follow beyond the jump mark. Yes, Peru is involved, and yes, some of these rules are optional or hint at legacy jokes, but it's all in good fun. Now follow me past the jump and see how many of Nyarlathotep's forms you can drink under the table (Spoilers, it's probably none of them. Don't get involved in drinking games with gods).
What it says on the tin, ladies and gents. To celebrate the updated re-release of Masks of Nyarlathotep, I thought it might be fun to explore some drinking game rules for the campaign. Surely, you can't save the world and expect to thwart the cults of the Crawling Chaos sober, can you? There's way too much sanity loss, death, and terror for that. Proper Investigators carry a gun, ammo, books, health supplies, and a flask of their finest spirits everywhere they go, and yours should be no exception. If you're up to the challenge, you can always follow these rules as you go through the game. :)
Now, for those who haven't read through or played this classic epic yet, all the spoilers follow beyond the jump mark. Yes, Peru is involved, and yes, some of these rules are optional or hint at legacy jokes, but it's all in good fun. Now follow me past the jump and see how many of Nyarlathotep's forms you can drink under the table (Spoilers, it's probably none of them. Don't get involved in drinking games with gods).
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So, taking a break from all the RotOO shenanigans, I realized I had a lot of random terms I used with my CoC players to define meta-game stuff in general. I thought I'd share this Facebook cross-post of two different lists of terms, complied into one, in case you need a little jargon short-hand at the table. Hell, I guarantee you D&D has its own, why not us Keepers?
Well, it happened. Keeping for two years, six months, and a few hours in change give or take, and it finally happened to me. I got sick and the worst of it happened while I was Keeping a game. Oh, it's not like it hasn't ever happened before, at least not in the sense of some very close calls. I once had to run the final session of a Nyarlathotep campaign while dealing with the aftereffects of losing my voice from a cold, which ended up making my normally soprano-ranged voice much scratchier and huskier than normal... not at all a bad vocal look for my sleazy, captivating, and darkly sensually attractive (even the guys want him!) interpretation of the Black Pharaoh himself. In fact, I daresay it made the scenario's end better, if not for the fact I basically sucked down more than my fair share of bottled teas and juices to stay hydrated. On that note, caffeine is bad for your voice, don't do that thing before you GM anything - just sayin'. To be fair, I should have known - there was a nasty virus going around, some rhinovirus strain or another that had spontaneously mutated, and that nobody had any antibodies to. Being on a college campus almost 24/7, and my siblings also being so to a point, someone in my family of course caught it. Then I caught it. Then my labmates in my Nucleic Acids lab all caught it, including my poor professor who also teaches my OTHER CMB lab, which all then got it, too. And yet, none of my CoC group caught the little fucker, despite openly sharing and drinking from my root beer while the virus was starting to develop. I thought it only a little bit of a dry, sore throat at the time, caused by speaking for long periods. That does happen when one narrates, talks, screams, yells, jabbers, etc. across a table at people for hours on end, which is why having fluids on hand to hydrate thyself is always a good idea. I thought it was nothing and proceeded to ignore it. Oh good Lord, I couldn't have been more wrong. I was sick the entirety of Labor Day Weekend, not that long after my birthday. My throat was raw and felt like acid burns, my nose and sinuses were a runny, aching, stuffy mess, and I generally felt like shit for three days. The fourth day, I thought it was over. I thought I'd be okay and that the worst of it was leaving - my throat was better, my sinuses were clearing a little, the post-nasal drip had dried up. It had to be over, right? Ahahahaha, no. Nope. Not even fucking close. Instead, the little bastard decided my lungs would make a lovely place to raise a family of approximately billions of little virion particles, and it set up shop in my bronchioles and proceeded to start drowning me in my own fucking mucus. I literally couldn't breathe walking from my car to class and was tied to a fucking inhaler the entire rest of the week. I couldn't even walk up the damn stairs without hacking and wheezing, and of course, my nose was stuffed up to compound my inability to get any fucking oxygen. This lasted for another four fucking days, and only just this past week was I able to feel better. I was tied to cold medicine and a nasal spray in order to even function and get through my classes, on the very worst week of the semester for my Nucleic Acids lab (I was going in every single day, no fucking joke, outside of class to prep things and streak things and run gels and ARGH FUCK WHY IS THIS MY MAJOR AGAIN). It was hell, absolute hell, and only caffeine and sheer willpower got me through it. Well, and this lovely little chemical compound, of course: That little buddy right there is a wondrous compound by the name of (4bS,8aR,9S)-3-Methoxy-11-methyl-6,7,8,8a,9,10-hexahydro-5H-9,4b-(epiminoethano)phenanthrene, but its friends call it Dextromethorphan or "Dexy" for short. And now you all just realized where that band that did "Come On Eileen", Dexy's Midnight Runners, got their name from. You're welcome. Dexy here is your friendly neighborhood cough suppressant, it's found in most cough medicines you get over the counter and it's also found in many Dayquil/Nyquil type products. I'd wager to bet this guy was your friend at some point in time while you were ill, but you never even bothered to learn its name, you selfish motherfucker. Of course, Dexy isn't all seriousness and sickness. No, it has a... wild side. A party side, you might say. That is, it's used as a recreational drug by some folks. There's a popular way of consuming this drug that involves cough syrup and Sprite or vodka, known to some as "Jungle Juice", "Sizzurp", or "Purple Drank". Take too much of it, and you'll start to wonder where the fuck you are. You see, Dexy here is a semi-powerful disassociative drug, and acts as a bit of an analgesic - that means it makes you high as balls, unable to focus, and numb in the extremities. Those who do this on purpose call the phenomenon "Robo-tripping", supposedly because it makes you feel like a robot - cut off from the world, experiencing everything slower, and reacting without much emotion; in other words, you dissociate and things don't feel real anymore. You can actually experience anything from stimulant-like effects to mild hallucinations, depending how much you take, as well as nausea, vomiting, confusion, nervousness, and drowsiness or dizziness. These effects usually occur over the course of several hours with many "peaks" or "plateaus". In other words, that means you'll not just experience this bullshit once, but you might experience it several times over the course of one night. You could be fine one moment, and then the next you are out of it and unfocused. Some people would call this "awesome". I however call this a nuisance and vaguely frightening, because I am unabashedly straight edge and every time I've had experience with any sort of altered state it has never been pleasant for me, at all, ever. So, let me tell you about how I, doped up on way too much Dexy, Robo-tripped my way through a CoC session last week and why I don't have any material for reviewing "The Spawn" as a result. Now, I gave my players fair warning - I could feel that I wasn't right in the head, and that both my sickness and the medicine were doing this to me. I knew I was tripping, because I knew I took way too many cold meds (the Dayquil type ones) and hadn't let them wear off between before I took another dose of two pills. Granted, I wasn't coughing and hacking, and I wasn't knocked out moaning in suffering from how bad I felt, but I still wasn't there. I'm honestly surprised I got the Investigators on the goddamned train, off to Coppertown in New Mexico, and off the train. I didn't even characterize the town. I half-assed the map and only changed it from one long street when my brother said something to the effect of, "Wow, nice town, GM". The map wasn't the greatest either, but to my addled mind it looked just fine. Until someone asked where in the fuck the police station was, and I turned to look. The only response I had to forgetting to add it was, "Oh." Nothing else, just "Oh." And then I sloppily wrote "P. Station" on the poorly made square, added a star, and called it a day on the map. I'm surprised nobody commented on the Pee Station, or called it a Playstation. Maybe they realized I was just that out of it. To be honest, I really don't remember what the fuck everyone did in Coppertown, except for about two things. I remember them meeting Jose Verde, my Chicano take on Jose Green in the scenario proper, and I remember them talking to Dr. Tyler Freeborn briefly. They also visited some of the miner's outposts in a very, VERY roundabout way, no doubt not helped by my not being able to remember where in the fuck they could drive, where the railroad tracks for the town were, and why they couldn't take their beat-up struggle buggy of a van up the mountains... or just walk. It seriously took me five minutes to give a decent, coherant explanation as to why they, no, could not walk several miles up mountains in thick Ponderosa pine wilderness they had no familiarity with to get to the mines. And all this while feeling like that kid from David After Dentist. Sadly, it was indeed real life, and I had to continue. The players chose to follow up on Jose's lead and go explore the graves of the freshly interred Broad Vein miners, killed in a supposed collapse. They all dug up all the graves and saw the weird circular burn marks on the bodies, and of course were nearly caught doing it. Thankfully, I bungled the absolute fuck out of the rolls for the guards near the graveyard, and nobody was caught. I was even nicer than normal to my one player who just, for the life of him, could not Stealth to save his skin. I probably should have let him suffer, but eh, I could barely tell whether or not the dice were candies at this point (I have very brightly colored, pretty dice, and the ones I was currently using were bright yellow like lemon drops). Not to mention that I was laughing at like every dumb joke way too hard for way too fucking long because OMFG that joke about the holes being for necrophiles was just too fucking funny you guys comedy platinum right here hashtag CoC: RotOO squad 2016. The game continued like this for a good. Five. Hours. I have no idea how I even made it through and no idea how it turned out because I have literally almost no memory of that whole night (voluntarily blocking the horror from my conscious mind?), but I know it was basically a filler/establishment session. There was nothing I could do to make it not be that way, because I couldn't even tell whether or not my hand was real, let alone what the fuck a Copper Lady was supposed to be. You might as well have asked me where I was, and I would have answered, "I don't fucking know, Lost Carcosa, because I keep hacking up pieces of it from my lungs every five seconds?" And I would have, in all seriousness, believed that I was standing in Carcosa, and you need to take your mask off right now, because your face looks not real at all, and neither does my face, and oh my fuck I am so sick and I don't understand why this is happening to me dear god help me. I have no idea why my friends let me continue Keeping that night. They really fucking shouldn't have, because immediately, after driving my friend home (which, OMFG, how?), proceeded to crash on my bed and sleep like a dead woman for the next three days. Moral of the story, kids? Dexy and Keeping do not mix. Just... just cancel the session if you're that sick. Trust me, everyone will understand. Don't powerhouse through it. Just don't do it. Go to fucking bed, set down the dice, and call it a day. It will not end well otherwise. Let's face it - "Let It Go", Tumblr's go-to song of action, really isn't that fitting for a site that is 95% pointless internet arguing and 5% ragequit. So I filked them a better version. Enjoy, and feel free to sing along! :)
The Tumblr Song (To the Tune of "Let It Go") The screen glows bright on my laptop tonight There’s no logic to be seen A kingdom of shit posting, And it looks like I'm the queen. My patience starts like Jekyll, but soon turns to Mr. Hyde Couldn't keep it in, heaven knows I tried! Don't type it out, don't let them see Be the blogger you always have to be Appeal, don't feel, don't let them know Well, now they’ll know! Suck my dick, suck my cock I can’t stand you fucks anymore Fuck your mom, fuck your dog Your IQ is less than four! I don't care What those assholes say Let the shit storm on, They’re all bad at arguing anyway! It's funny how some openness Makes everything seem small And the morons that once trolled me Can't get to me at all! It's time to tell them all the truth Though they might say that I’m uncouth No right, no wrong, no rules for me I'm free! Drink some bleach, Kill yourself You’re all douches that need to die Eat a dick, you’re a cunt Your stupidity makes me cry! Here I rant And here I'll rage Let the shit storm on! My typing flurries through the keys into the ‘net My thoughts are heard by others that I haven’t even met And my anger burns through ignorance just like a fiery blast I'm never ever shutting up Until I am the last! Kiss my ass, lick my taint Why can’t any of you just quit? You are wrong, I am right You’re all pieces of fucking shit! Here I rant All I want to say I don’t give a fuck, You’re all bad at arguing anyway! So you're writing a Fear Mythos or Slenderman vlog/blog. Good for you! By doing so, you're joining a collective pantheon of amateur writers, directors, and horror fans that extends all the way back to the first entry of Marble Hornets, the first Slenderman series and the series that indirectly paved the way for all Slendervlogs and Fearvlogs to come! Since 2008, people have been writing Slenderman tales, and eventually Fear Mythos tales (which spun off from Slendy's influence before becoming its own thing), so welcome to the club!
Now, you have your monster, and your plot, set for you already - otherwise you wouldn't be reading this. But the problem is, you just can't think of a catchy title for your series! How are you ever going to become the next RAPTURE Logs or EverymanHYBRID without a decent name? Everyone knows that the first thing a Slenderfan or Fearfan sees and judges you on is the title of your story and how creative it is! And so, you've come to me today, begging on your hands and knees for hints on how to make a good vlog or blog title. Well, little Museling, you're in luck, because I have a handful of hints on how to make your story stand out from the rest. You see, I'm not only a Fearblogger and Slenderauthor, but I've also created my own series - you might know it as a little series called WalkingWithGiants87, or you might not. So as you can see, I am more than well-equipped to take on any questions you might have about how to make your story's title stand out. Just try any of these simple methods below to get started, and you'll be coming up with names for things in no time!
Hey you, yeah you behind the computer screen! Nerd! >8D Oh well, at least you're not a freak, like I am...
Ah, self-deprication. How I did miss thee. As all of my long-time readers should know by now, I'm a nerd. A pretty damn big nerd. I adore Batman and Doctor Who, I read and loved Harry Potter, I generally get pretty good grades, I'm abit of a Grammar Nazi, I love to learn about stuff, I write fanfic, I play Pokemon and am pretty in-touch with what new video games are coming out for modern consoles, I'm a Chemistry Tech major, I'm so comfortable with the internet that it's like I have a second life online, I have a blog, and I love Statistics. I am also a weirdo - I read Creepypasta and then go to sleep without any trouble whatsoever, I think bats and snakes are cute, I actually really like spiders, I write horror stories, and I am a huge Edgar Allen Poe and H. P. Lovecraft fan. If you're new to Musings, first of all, welcome, and second of all, I'm sorry you had to find out from this entry that I'm a freak (If it helps, I am also a bitch, a lover, a child, a mother, a sinner, and a saint; I do not feel ashamed). But really, I just tend to think of myself as having some very myriad, nerdy interests. So it should come as no shock to any of you that I also have some serious nerdy pet peeves. Those little things about my fandoms and interests that just stick in my craw and never seem to be things that I can get over, no matter what I do. Being a nerd's in my blood, along with being snarky and a little bit of ethanol on any given night when I'm not working - and there's just some things, because of that, that I cannot let go of. I'll normally let them pass if it's a joke, or if someone's being a troll on purpose. I'll also normally let them pass if it's an honest mistake. But when I keep coming across these little annoyances, then something begins to ever so slightly fray in Sugary's silly little brain, something that really makes me want to grow claws and fangs and bite your head off. Usually, these annoyances are caused by severe stupidity or ignorance of the fandom from which they come, and if it's one thing I can't stand, it's stupid for the sake of being stupid. Usually these annoyances come from fandom newcomers as well - and when people are new, I do try to be nice. We were all noobs of our respective fandoms once; we can all be forgiven for little sins like thinking that the Joker was played best by Jack Nicholson or Heath Ledger (false, the correct answer is Mark Hamill), or foolishly believing David Tennant to be anything other than the best Doctor of all time. But not knowing a character's name when you get into a fandom, or doing dumb things just because you feel bad that someone doesn't like your fandom? Bitch, please. And if you commit any of the five grievous annoyances below? Lord have mercy upon your soul, foolish mortal, for your actions were bad and you should feel bad. In no particular order, here are my five biggest nerdy pet peeves. Granted, the aren't all nerdy, but they all do revolve around fandom of something, so there you go. My logic is superior. You know it to be true.
Guilty Pleasures! You and me and even you!
Yes, it's no secret around here that I am a huge fan of Internet reviewers, particularly the members of That Guy With The Glasses and their associated reviewers. To name a particular few, I'm an avid fan of the Nostalgia Critic, the Nostalgia Chick, Linkara of Atop the 4th Wall (Where Bad Comics Burn), the Cinema Snob (and Brad Jones' spinoff shows DVR Hell and Brad Tries...), and Diamanda Hagan (All Hail the Lecher Bitch!). I don't miss a single episode of some of these reviewers, while others have episodes that I pick and choose over other reviews of theirs. It was the Nostalgia Critic's reviews that helped me through some hard times in my life when I really needed a good laugh, and after some time I came to enjoy other shows on the site. TGWTG, I love you and God bless you guys for constantly bringing the internet funny. Recently Lindsay, otherwise known as the Nostalgia Chick, put out a video about her top ten guilty pleasure films. On that list were a good number of films I'd never seen, some I'd never heard of, and a few that were guilty pleasures of my own. And that got me to thinking about my own guilty pleasures. Why do I like some of the terrible things I do, and how do I justify them to people who would look at me and say, "Really, Sugary? You like THAT?" Well, the short answer would be for me to tell them to fuck off, closely followed by a demand for something deep fried and smothered in chocolate because I legitimately get that bitchy when I PMS, but the long answer is a list of my own guilty pleasures, things I can't believe I actually like when I KNOW they're bad from experience, whether I walked in knowing they were no good or they later fell out of favor for me. Now, I'd like to stress that it's not that any of the items I've listed here are bad because they're bad. Camp itself isn't bad, and neither is something that is trying to do something and just hits the mark, becoming a stinker in the process. Those types of things become easy to justify, because hey - nothing's perfect, and laughing at the shortcomings of others is a good way to remind yourself that you're not perfect, either. It's important to have guilty pleasures because it reminds us to think about ourselves, why we're flawed. It's flaws that make us human and flaws that make us unique - so what if we secretly adore the Twilight Saga or the goofier, campier Silver Age comics where Batman wore a rainbow Batsuit and the Joker had a gag utility belt? Everyone has 'em, and here's ten of mine, from most justifiable to "Damn, what in the hell am I thinking?!" 10: Batman (Sixties TV series). Yes, the campy as hell one. Yeah, so what, there are a lot of people that like this one, Sugary. Well, thing is, I'm a Batman fan. And I'm more or less a fan of serious Batman comics, the original noir flavor with the dark elements in it. I like my Dark Knight to actually be dark, I like the villains to be serious threats, and I like the stories to have real gravitas to them. I like them best when they balance how unrealistic some of the comic aspects are with the seriousness of a detective story, and that's why I like Batman: Arkham Asylum so much in particular. The idea of the Joker shooting people up with a drug that makes them into literal monsters is ludicrous, but it really, really works, because it's believable for the character. The tension works well, just as it works in classic Batman tales like The Long Halloween (which is more a straight whodunnit, where as Arkham Asylum is more like what some people call a howcatchem). Batman is also known as the World's Greatest Detective, and he's called that for a very good reason - I feel that his best tales should essentially be detective stories, because Batman is not just someone who fights crime but also solves crime. That's not to say I don't like the campy stuff or the Silver Age stuff, I do, but you can see how someone might look at a Bat-fan like me and say, "So, why do you like the Sixties TV show again?" And to that I say, "Cesar Romero in clown make-up with his mustache showing, Frank Gorshin's Riddler cackle, and Burgess Merideth's squawking Penguin laughter. Also, Vincent Price as Egghead. You're welcome." And then I say, "Some days you just can't get rid of a bomb!", do the Batusi, and run off laughing. Thing is, you have to laugh at your fandom, and I think a LOT of Batman fans in particular know that. The Sixties show was a product of its time, and it shows, and yes it's campy as hell. But that's what makes it fun and funny to watch. Yes, Batman is supposed to be a brooding vigilante crusading for justice in a nearly lawless city and he deserves to be portrayed that way in a serious endeavor. But that doesn't mean the fans have to be that serious. 9: Eragon (film - the book's really not as bad as the film makes it look). Yes, this film is awful, even though the plot was fine (albeit a bit of a Star Wars ripoff). I mean, for the love of God, they made Durza like 30 years old and he ages halfway through the movie from evil deterioration disease rather than exploding like he does in the book, which is a lot cooler. They don't go into Durza's interesting backstory. They ruined the Ra'zac entirely by making them these bug zombie things. Saphira has feathery freaking wings that look dislocated based on where they positioned them in relation to her shoulder blades, and she has full horns that biologically would only make sense for a male dragon to have. Princess Arya, an elven princess, doesn't have elf ears, because the directors "didn't want them to look like Lord of the Rings elves" (stupid fucking excuse, and no you do not get a goddamn pass for trying to be creative, because this is NOT CREATIVITY). They don't explain that Galbatorix's black dragon, shown at the end, is HIS dragon that he stole from another Rider. They don't even explain that Galbatorix WAS a rider! The love interest of Eragon's older brother is gone entirely, Solembum the werecat (my favorite character) is missing, they cut out the dwarves entirely, and the goddamn brisingr spell, which casts fire, is blue! Why the fuck is it blue, movie?! WHY?! But, for all the nerd rage this movie brings me... I like it. In the end it's still a film about a boy and his dragon on a quest to save the world, and my love of dragons always wins over nerd rage. There were some good aspects of the film, too. Jeremy Irons as Eragon's mentor worked just fine, and the orcs had a decent design to them. The cinematography of the film was actually pretty decent, even if it did smack too much of Lord of the Rings, but what do you want, people? It's a High Fantasy film with elves, orcs, and dragons in it; there's not a lot you can do with it that hasn't been done by Lord of the Rings. That's an unfair comparison and you know it. I know it's a bad film in general, but it's still fun to watch it and tear it apart for being so bad. It's like your own personal MST3k episode. In fact, I think there's even a RiffTrax out there for this movie... might have to go looking for that. 8: The Phantom of the Opera (2004 film). I'm sorry, phans, oh Lord am I sorry. Yes, the one with Gerard Butler in it. As a pretty darned serious PotO fan, I'm so ashamed of this one that it hurts. Feel free to lynch me now if you really, really must. But the more I think about why this is so hated and therefore a guilty pleasure for me, the more I wonder why it's considered so damn bad. Okay, yes, it has its issues, but they're funny issues. If you cannot laugh at the ludicrousness of Fop Raoul's shiny hair, then I'm pretty sure you're not human. The story itself isn't all that ruined either - the core scenes of the musical are still there, with some additions even - the mirror room Raoul falls into after the scene where Erik unveils Don Juan Triumphant is probably the closest a modern Phantom adaptaion got to the torture room sequence in the novel - clearly, someone did their homework on this, even if not as much of the novel got in as I would have otherwise liked. Plus, the songs are still all there from the musical and still mostly intact even if the lyrics are changed a bit. And some of the talent is better in the movie (I said SOME, not ALL) - for example, I actually liked the way Film!Meg sung her parts of Angel of Music better than OLC! Meg (Original London Cast! Meg) does, and Emmy Rossum does a much better job at portraying the sensual trance-like state that the Phantom's voice can induce rather than Sarah Brightman's creepy doll stare. To me, Emmy's "Ooh my ears are being pleasured by your voice, Erik" trance is far better than "Blank stare like a deer in the headlights" trance, because the latter, no offence to Sarah Brightman fans, looks unrealistic and fake and like she cannot act entranced to save her life. No, the songs aren't sung as well as the Broadway musical, and Gerry can't hold a magical self-lighting, floating sewer candle to Michael Crawford's original performance, but the performers tried. You can tell they tried their best with the shitty directing that Schumacher gave them and attempted to do something with it. Was Emmy Rossum right for the role of Christine? No, she didn't have the right voice yet. Was Gerry the right choice for Erik? No, he's too beautiful and he's an actor, not a singer. Was the Masquerade scene, my favorite bit of Phantom, blander than the stage show? Yes it was. But overall, it's really NOT that terrible and it stands on its own as a love story, even if it is a bland, watered-down one. The film still kept the spirit of Phantom, and that's what counts to me. Much like the precalculus student who studies their ass off and only barely passes the class with a D-minus, this film tried its best with what it had even when it made blatant errors, and sometimes, that's all you can do. 7: The graphic novel Joker. Unlike the 2004 Phantom film, I legitimately do get why people don't like this one - it portrays the Joker as being out of character from what we knew him to be at the time in the comics. For one, he ends up crying while clinging to Harley, who is a hooker in this one, which is just fucking NO Harley does NOT have that much power in their relationship. For another, he rapes a woman. It's not even implied, it actually shows him dressing back up afterwards with the traumatized victim nearby. I've said this before and will say it again: rape is just such an un-Jokerish crime to me, because the Joker knows that he can do way better than that. Any two-bit criminal can rape a woman. But not every criminal can leave their victims smiling, or poison a whole city, or break out of Arkham a hundred times, and that is what makes the Joker and other supervillains different from your run of the mill thieves, murderers and drug-dealers. Rape to the Joker is the lowest form of crime just as a bad pun is the lowest form of humor, and that is why the Joker generally does not rape people for all of the numerous other atrocities he's committed. Yes, the Joker looks WAY too much like Heath Ledger's version for my comfort, even if it was coincidental. No, it's not what the Joker's character is like; no, it's not a very good look at a "hardcore" Gotham City; yes, the protagonist is nothing special; yes I know there's a rape scene in it that is so OOC for the Joker it's painful, but... well, I have a soft spot for it. It does have some good qualities to it, such as the artwork. Oh my God, the artwork is just beautiful; it portrays everything with stomach-churning detail and really makes you feel how sick and smoggy and dirty Gotham is. You can see the veins in the characters' eyes. You can see every disgusting scale on Killer Croc's body and almost imagine what it must feel like. It is gorgeous artwork and the GN deserves cred just for that. Another thing is the nostalgia factor - it was my first GN, my first Batman tale, my first foray into the comics. It was my easing into the comic books because I identified that Joker as being rather similar to Heath Ledger's just in his anarchic world view alone. Like your first drink of alcohol, that was a "growing-up" moment for me as a Joker fan, because it now meant that I could explore other facets of the character and discuss the character seriously with other fans. It meant I was no longer part of the droves of Ledger fangirls that saw the film to giggle over how hot Heathie was, but actually "in on the joke", so to speak, the joke that other Comic!Joker fans already had known for years. Quite simply, despite being a poor portrayal of the character (which I now realize having read many other Joker tales), it was my first step into understanding the complex mosaic that is the Joker. Furthermore, for me it's really, really hard to hate something that tries to approach its mission and fails. It tried to show the Joker in a grittier light and it failed. It tried to tell a good Joker story and failed. It would have worked much better with another villain, maybe Two-Face, but in the end, it still tried to do something different. It set a bar, and instead of clearing it, it completely knocked the bar off of the limbo trees. But to me, hating it for failing to hit its mark is almost like hating a puppy that chews up your shoes. Yes, your shoes are ruined, but there are other, much better shoes out there, shoes called Batman: The Killing Joke and The Laughing Fish to take off the sting of losing a single pair. 6: Nicki Minaj. Yes, I will admit this even though I'm slightly ashamed of it... I like Nicki Minaj. I don't know WHY I like Nicki Minaj, but I like Nicki Minaj. She doesn't have the interesting electric soundscapes and flair that Lady Gaga has, she doesn't have the quirky, sugary pop star feel that Katy Perry does (thank God because I cannot STAND Katy Perry at all), and she doesn't even really experiment with her music. She sort of raps, but it's not rap. She's sort of a pop star, but almost like a parody of BritPop. She sounds kind of like that chick in "Pump Up the Jam" (yeah, REALLY showing my age now) when she does the rap segments of her songs, and her songs are particularly interesting, deep, or emotionally grabbing. She's quirky, but not enough to stand out. She's different, but not enough to make a difference. She's a pop singer and she's overdone and I know everyone's imitating her right now, but then again, "M-m-my my, / Like pelican fly". There's just something about that line that works for me in "SuperBass". I don't understand why, because it's a stupid line, but it works. She's paired up with other artists as a guest and it adds an interesting touch to an otherwise all electronic song. Maybe it's because she's British, maybe it's because she's a female "rapper", maybe it's because she blends styles and I really admire artists who blend styles to stick out in general, I dunno. At least she's trying something a bit different, sort of like how Red Hot Chili Peppers blends funk, rap, and rock to make a sound all their own, or how Led Zeppelin experimented with different styles. Seriously, go listen to "Shangri-La", then "Trampled Under Foot", and then "Stairway To Heaven"; they don't even sound like the same band did all three songs let alone have the same sound, and if it weren't for the lead singer's voice being instantly identifiable, a person who has never heard these songs would never guess that they're all Led Zeppelin songs. I guess I like Nicki Minaj because she's instantly identifiable in a song - in fact, I thought for a while that the sound-alike song "Broken-Hearted" actually was one of her songs until I looked up the real artist online; it's some lame-ass wannabe named Karmen or whatever. Okay, she's still a pop star and still a bit obnoxious and I understand why people dislike her. But still... "M-m-my my, / Like pelican fly." You're lying to yourself if you say you don't think that lyric is even a little bit amusing in some way, even if it's only amusing because of how bad it is. 5: Ke$ha. She's in here for a lot of the same reasons as Nicki up there. So why did I put Nicki higher up on the list than Ke$ha? Because I can't believe I actually like anything by this overblown, gross, disgusting pop singer, and at least Nicki Minaj isn't gross-looking, just fake and pop-star-looking. Ke$ha legitimately sucks. Her voice isn't even that good, her songs are stupidly ear-wormy party anthems, and for the love of God, if you're dancing so hard that your body goes numb, that is not a sign of you being forever young - that is a sign that you need to go to the hospital like right the fuck now because seriously I think you've imbibed so much alcohol that your liver is about to fail. Furthermore, rooster feathers in your hair are pretty freaking dumb. Okay, they look kind of cool when they're part of a weave or a braid or something, but when you just have a mess of them anywhere in your already unkempt-looking hair, it looks like you fell asleep in a henhouse. Feather earrings are cute, rooster feather extensions when Ke$ha wears them are gross. Glitter on your eyes and ripped up stockings don't make you look "sick and sexy-fied", they make you look like a prostitute who has had a much rougher night than usual. Nobody in their right mind brushes their teeth with Jack Daniels, and if Mick Jagger ever was attractive, he's certainly not attractive anymore. I by no means like every single song she puts out, far from it. In fact, I only like two songs by her, "Blow" and "Take It Off". The former, I have on my music list, and the latter I crank way the hell up whenever it comes on the radio. Yeah, they're no better than any other Ke$ha song, but dammit, they're just so catchy! I love that background noise in "Blow". I love the fact that in "Take It Off", Ke$ha adds that in the strip club "They go hardcore / And there's glitter on the floor", almost as if the floor glitter is an afterthought. I love the fact that she even wrote a song about a strip club and it actually got airplay on the radio. I love the fact that both songs are just so, so danceable. I know that she's terrible, yes, but even a terrible singer can put out a few decent songs every so often. Just look at Britney Spear's recent song "Criminal". Holy pig balls, I have never heard a more apt Harley/Joker song in my entire life ever. Even a good artist, like Adele (whom I freaking love to bits, "Rumour Has It" is seriously like sex for the ears it's so good), can put out a song that's not as good as the rest of her stuff like "Someone Like You" (yes, it's a good song, but to me there are other songs on that album, like "Rolling In The Deep", that convey the idea of a relationship falling apart much better). The point is, sometimes you find songs that just stick and sound right musically, songs that are catchy, songs you like for whatever reason - and for me, Ke$ha, an otherwise worthless pop star, has at least two. I don't necessarily like Korn either, but I think "Freak on a Leash" is still a pretty okay song anyway. Also, why do I mostly dislike bands and singers with names that begin with the letter K? O.o 4: How The Grinch Stole Christmas (2000 film). I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. This film is far more inferior to the Tom Jones animated cartoon, and yet I still have a bit of a soft spot for it. I can't even explain why I like this one, it's just so bad and I know it's bad. The film basically became about Jim Carrey hamming it up in a green Wookiee costume with some shoehorned-in plot about the commercialization of Christmas, and it just. Doesn't. Work. It's got a scene of the Mayor kissing a dog's ass. It's got a scene of the Grinch landing in a lady Who's boobies. It's by NO means a good film, and I know it's not a good film, but for some reason I still kind of like it. Maybe it's the Nostalgia filter, maybe it's the fact that it's Jim Carrey and I am a stupid sucker for Jim Carrey hamming it up like nobody else hams it up, maybe it's how incredibly over-acted his Grinch is, how he chews the scenery like nobody's business to the point it gets obnoxious and then goes back to being funny again. I really wish I had an answer for you, but I just don't. I guess the art direction was unique, it being a Seuss film, and I suppose the "commercialized Christmas" idea was an interesting theme to explore (if a bit of an overly common theme for a Christmas flick)... Nah, I think it really comes down to Jim Carrey. Sorry, but he was funny in Ace Ventura: Pet Detective, he was funny in The Mask, he was funny in Bruce Almighty, in A Series of Unfortunate Events, and in Batman Forever, and he's still funny in How The Grinch Stole Christmas. Maybe I'm just a stupid sucker for Jim Carrey being the largest of all hams, and that's all there is to it, because that's about the most coherant reason I can give for this film being one of my guilty pleasures. Which brings me to my next guilty pleasure... 3: The Joel Schumacher Batman films. Yes, I actually sort of like the horrible, campy cheese of Batman Forever and Batman and Robin. Now, Jim Carrey almost sort of saves Batman Forever, because he just plays such a hammy Riddler that it almost sort of works. You can tell that the director meant for it to be less serious and it shows, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing because of it. Yeah it's dumb and campy, but it's campy in the same way as the Sixties TV show, and the Riddler was actually made into a real threat in Batman: Arkham Asylum and was an even bigger threat in Arkham City, so that does take off a bit of the sting for me. So, yeah, it's dumb, yeah it was watered down for the kiddies, but there's a reason it still gets airplay and the film that comes after it does not, and that reason is Jim Carrey. Seriously, Jim Carrey as the Riddler just has to be seen to be believed; it's almost like Frank Gorshin's Riddler and Comic!Joker had a weird, nightmarish lovechild, and that lovechild was a rubber-faced riddle-spouting sparkly spandex-wearing freak of nature (Riddler/Joker, now THERE'S a slash pairing I'll bet you never thought would work). But yet, I still have a soft spot for Batman and Robin's brand of bad, because it's just. So. Bad. There are so, so many reasons this film is so bad that it wraps right around to being funny again. The Bat-nipples and Bat-asses and Bat-crotches are terrible and stupid and unneeded; even the actors thought they were dumb. Poison Ivy is so unsexy in that film it hurts. Bane has been pretty much lobotomized, because that's the only reason I can think of for why the guy who broke the shit out of Batman's fucking back is walking around mumbling like a dopey, souped-up henchman for Ivy. The Governator as Mr. Freeze with his terrible, terrible ice puns. Robin's whiny, annoying complaints about wanting a car and a Robin signal up with the Batsignal. The fact that absolutely everything in the Batcave, whether it needs to be or not, is Bat-shaped for no good reason. The fact that there is freaking neon in the Batcave. "This is why Superman works alone." Watching Ivy sell herself at a prostitution auction and then watching Bruce and Dick fight over it. The Bat-Credit-Card. I have no justification for liking either of these films besides "They're so bad, they're good." In the end, I think it all comes down to the ice puns, I'm a sucker for the ice puns because I have a horrid love of bad puns, which is yet another guilty pleasure of mine. I don't know why. It's just so, so camp... so camp. Just... "What killed the dinosaurs? THE ICE AGE!" For me, that line never stops being so bad it's good for me. Never. And come on, Jim Carrey. As. The Riddler. So much ham and cheese. Sooooo much. 2: The first Michael Bay Transformers film. I hate Michael Bay. I didn't grow up with Transformers and I admittedly didn't know much about the series beforehand other than that it was an Eighties thing and the idea of robots transforming into vehicals was really freaking awesome, but he has single-handedly ruined the Transformers franchise and he is the reason I didn't see Transformers: Dark Side of the Moon or whatever it's called. The second Transformers film left me so burned with the robo-sex scene, the pot brownies, those two redneck robots, and "I am directly underneath the enemy's scrotum!" that I just never, never went back. Okay, so that's a lie - I was forced to sit with my family and watch part of the third film, but by the time it got to that Asian-American insurgent dude shouting "Deep Wang, Deep Wang" at Sam, I was all, "Fuck it, I'm done, this movie blows and it's clearly not getting any better." Seriously, "Deep Wang"? What happened, Michael Bay, did you make it to the seventh grade and then completely stopped growing up altogether? That's not that funny. Neither was giving the giant Robot in the second film stupid, steel balls. You are a hack, and you have ruined the Transformers franchise, end of story. Though... I will admit that the first Transformers film was actually sort of okay. Yeah I know, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but... the first one actually felt like it tried. It felt like it was trying to broach the franchise seriously and it kept the stupid prepubescent jokes to a minimum. I can count the juvenile jokes stupid enough to remember that were made in Transformers on a single hand, and they include 1) the masturbation talk gag and 2) Bumblebee peeing oil on that one guy. The rest of the film, as I recall, tried to be pretty serious, and even had some cool effects. Is it a good film? Not really. It stands on its own, but it still doesn't hit the mark for me. Maybe I'd be more insulted if I grew up with the Transformers cartoon series, but I didn't, so this film was actually not a half-bad introduction for me - probably because there was another director attached that wasn't Michael Bay and the script was written by someone who knew what in the hell they were doing with the franchise. There's still a lot it did wrong, like the stupid shit-for-brains parents that have clung onto every film in the series like bits of crap stick to the fur around a dog's butt and the impossibly hot girlfriend that is really just there for Bay to turn into a walking softcore porn scene, but otherwise the first film almost worked. Almost, and that's sad, because in the hands of a director that's not Michael Bay, we could have gotten something out of this series that isn't "I am directly underneath the enemy's scrotum!". The first film tried and almost made it, but it just wasn't enough to save the franchise or itself from being flushed down the toilet along with the utter piles of poo that are is its misbegotten sequel spawn. 1: Scooby-Doo (Live Action film). Cinema!God, forgive me, for I have sinned. I have seen the Live Action Scooby-Doo movie, That Which Is Buried Beneath Its Own Shit, and I have enjoyed it. Yes, I begrudgingly admit to liking the Live Action Scooby-Doo movie even though it tore apart the cartoon series for the sake of immature jokes and is so forgettable that I can't even remember the plot of the damn thing, something about demons taking over a Tiki-themed amusement park or some stupid shit like that. I haven't seen this dumb film since about 2000 or so, and I don't plan on seeing it again, but I still sort of enjoyed it for how stupid and mind-numbing it was. The characters were not in character. The plot didn't work for a Scooby gang mystery. I question why Shaggy never actually grew up and still lives in the Mystery Inc. Van as a stoner with no day job. About the only good thing this movie brought to the table was making that little shit stain Scrappy-Doo be the bad guy, which is actually pretty damn funny because I can't think of a single person who likes that yappy, mangy little mutt that couldn't keep his dumb ass out of danger, relying on the buffoonish cowards Shaggy and Scooby to actually step up to the plate, which I'll admit actually served as a good way of forcing Shaggy and Scooby into facing up to their problems instead of running away from them. At least, it would have worked if Scrappy-I'm-Gonna-Go-Fight-A-Monster-Ten-Times-My-Size-And-Get-My-Uncle-And-His-Stoner-Friend-In-Danger-Because-I'm-An-Idiot-With-A-Napoleon-Complex-Doo didn't get them into the problems in the first fucking place. I love Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? the cartoon series and watched the re-runs obsessively as a kid, I have absolutely no love for Scrappy and never have, and it was great seeing Scrappy be the bad guy in this otherwise stupid film because I and lots of other Scooby fans already suspected he was a stupid waste of space anyway, and having him be the villain was like sweet revenge for us. So in the end, I guess that's why Scooby-Doo is a guilty pleasure for me - because I liked watching Scrappy-Doo get the shit beat out of him. Wow, that's... actually kind of a bit of a heartless thing for me to say there. But it's not really considered animal cruelty if it's a cartoon that everyone hates anyway, is it? No? Oh, good. Now I don't feel so bad about hating that asshole Jerry for getting Tom in trouble when he was only trying to do his job and keep rodents out of the house. Whoo, so finally I'm done with finals, with college classes, and with Organic Chemistry for the Winter (well until January 6th when I go back for more punishment), and that means I have Christmas to look forward to! PresentsPresentsPresents! Oh and food and family but MOSTLY PRESENTS! :3 But aside from thinking about presents when I should have been studying for my Anthropology final, I've been taking my Anthropology professor's cue to people-watch and have been casually evaluating my professors' behavior over the past semester. What, you don't do that? Freak. You're a freak. Go cry in the corner like a baby, freak.
Now, first thing you need to know about my schedule this past Fall semester. I took four classes - Anthropology (transfer credit), Organic Chemistry I (which is Hell in a nutshell), Self Defense (for I am small and puny), and Moral Choices (a philosophy class, also for transfer credit). My Anthropology professor, whom I will call Professor D, was a recent hire and this semester was his first year teaching. He's a pretty nice, laid-back guy and his class reflects his attitude that the best way to get people learning is to get them involved in group activities. I hate group activities, but at least he used them to good effect. Overall, a nice guy, I liked him - he got me interested in a subject I really had little interest in, and I would certainly take a class he taught again. You're off to a great start, Professor D! The Orgo Chem professor, whom I'll call Dr. J, is kindly but firm and doesn't believe in curving tests. She came from a military family and in her opinion, if you can't work up to PCAT or MCAT level knowledge, you're just not good enough, maggot - try harder. Her class is quite tough, and she is also a tough woman - if she were a chemical compound she'd be a non-reactive, non-chiral, non-polar saturated alkane; nothing phases her. She's picky about arrows in mechanisms and she often half-explains what the textbook explains far better, but you can tell she really wants to see her students succeed and she's passionate about the subject she teaches. I had her for lecture and lab, and despite her tough attitude and difficult subject matter, I'd have to say Organic Chem I was my favorite class this semester. So much so that I'm going back for more punishment from Dr. J this Winter for Organic Chem II. Oh yes, multi-step synthesis problems, hurt me more. The Self Defense teacher, a lively older black gentleman whom I'll call Coach W, was probably the other favorite professor of mine. He's got a great sense of humor and knows how to pep you up for warmup where you have to do ten five-minute sets of twenty pullups which I still for the life of me can't do. He's a far cry from High School coaches, understanding when a person just cannot physically do something, and never takes things too seriously. He cannot pronounce my name, but he's such a fun guy I forgive him for it. Coach W is also very, very patient, to the point that when I had to ask him for the fifteenth time how to do an inside-out wrist takedown he remained as calm as if it were the first. Seriously, the guy just never loses his cool, he's like Batman without the Caucasian-ness, money, anger management issues, and cowl. I do definitely feel a lot more confident about wandering downtown alone too with the skills I learned from this class. My Moral Choices Professor was an Asian guy who reminded me of a younger Mr. Miyagi, so I guess he gets to be Professor Miyagi since his first name starts with J and I already gave J to my Orgo Chem professor, and too many J's will be too confusing. Professor Miyagi likes to discuss things a lot, and he's fascinating to talk to. He was born in China and moved to America later (guess he liked either the freedom, the food, or both). Unfortunately, he also really, really, REALLY liked papers. Reflection papers, research papers, papers papers papers. We had precisely one test the whole semester, over Ethical Theories, and that was at the start of the semester. Conversely, we had two damn research papers and a reflection paper based on the reading that was due every week (we only met on Tuesdays). Criminy, Professor Miyagi, you think that's enough damn papers? I understand meeting once a week and I understand having a research paper or a test, but two papers, a test, and reflection papers every week? I realize that's not a lot compared to some teachers at some colleges, but God Damn, I haven't taken a class that required this much writing since my senior AP English class in High School, and even that had less writing and one research paper! Seriously. I go to a Community College and even the English classes here don't have their students write this much. Anyway, Professor Miyagi was a pretty chill guy and not overbearing to listen to since he started discussions that became heated debates. His class was easily one of the more interesting ones I took, but all the same it is not a subject I would take again if I could help it. Anyway, that's not what this blog entry's about, is it? No, no. For you see, while on the shuttle to the main campus from my Anthropology class one day, I realized that there were more than a few common things professors do that just piss me the Hell off. It's to the point that some of the oldest ones (and the most set in their ways) have ridiculously picky specifications for things or horrendously annoying habits. I have had professors that, like my AP English teacher in High School, would NOT accept anything turned in on 'fuzzy paper', just because it annoys them. Or anything written in blue pen. Or anything that didn't conform to some other bizzare convention they held fast to. I even had a completely batshit insane Spanish 2 Teacher who was, of all things, Greek in origin, and just made class ridiculous (helpful, since the class in question was at 9:00 AM on a Saturday - this was when I started abusing caffeine; thank you caffeine, you are my God and Saviour). In fact there were so many things that professors commonly do that bugged me that I narrowed it down to my Top Five worst habits. It's not that I don't get why professors do some of these things, I do. I understand the logic behind them; for example, Dr. J is so picky about arrows because Organic Chemistry mechanisms are just LOUSY with planera. That still doesn't make it any less annoying to recieve a test back only to find out that Dr. J had removed half a point from a question for using the wrong type of arrow in a radical bromination reaction or for the back-attack in an SN2 reaction looking too messy or confusing. So without further ado, here's the 5 most annoying habits college professors have, my issues with them, and a possible reason why they do it.
I have to confess to my male readers that I will never, never understand why you guys seem to think we womenfolk suck at directions if we get lost so much as once. Seriously. I know this is a common complaint about men and directions, or women and directions, but dear God - I never realized how serious it was until this weekend.
First though, I need to tell you about my boyfriend. Now, my boyfriend is not a stupid man, in fact he's quite intelligent and actually is going for a Doctorate in Internal Medicine. He has completed several higher level mathematics courses with very high marks and even managed to get out of the notoriously difficult Organic Chemistry classes at my college with good grades. He's also about as nerdy as I am and is a nerd for several of the same things as me (video games, Doctor Who, Batman in general, and Chemistry). He's a quiet guy that is usually very cool-tempered, kind of the opposite of my sometimes fiery personality. He is also really, really adorkable and just an all around very sweet guy. In short I love the guy to bits and he's crazy about me, so it seems like we're a great fit for each other. We also share the same workplace, since he works at the same fast food restauraunt branch that I do, so despite now attending different colleges we do still get to see each other fairly often. The reason I'm telling you this is because this weekend my boyfriend, whom I will refer to as D from now on, decided to do the stupid stereotypical male thing. All because I am driving up to his family's cabin on Christmas, and because I got lost and had to call him the last year trying to find his driveway, which is located in a rural area on a half-unpaved road and secluded by these creepy trees so thick you'd be extremely surprised if the Slenderman wasn't hiding in them somewhere. So, my boyfriend's dad got a nice Garmin GPS last Christmas to help him navigate places, because old stereotypes die hard. The GPS is really cool and everything, and I've heard good things about that particular brand, so of course I was happy for him. However, because I got lost the last year and D is not only a hardcore romantic that worries about me if I even so much as have a bad day at work, but similar in personality to me in terms of how he thinks things through (and in terms of absent-mindedness), he decided that apparently Sugary needs to borrow the Garmin to get to his family's cabin several hours away and decided to text me in a conversation that went something like this: D: Hi love you should come up around 2 everyone will be arriving around then also I will give (Manager he is friends with) my Garmin don't forget it LOL Me: That's nice D, thank you. But I don't want to lose it so just email me directions or txt me the address. <3 D: LOL no this is easier here's my Garmin! Me: D, really, I don't need it, I can just Mapquest the location and get directions there. Believe it or not I don't really suck that much at directions. D: But it's dangerous to go alone, take my Garmin! Me: Is it even gonna be safe in (manager's) drawer at work? What if someone takes it? D: ^w^ ... Huh? What did you say? I was distracted by the thought of how pretty you are, Snicket... <3 Oh, by the way, here's my Garmin! 8D Me: ... But I don't need to... D: Don't forget to pick it up at work LOL I'll see you on Christmas Eve love you. <3 Long story short, I took the damn Garmin home from work. Every manager in the store thought it was D's Christmas gift to me and as a result I ended up having to explain what was going on to everyone. I don't plan on using it unless D decides that Mapquest is too hard for me, a Chemist that can turn molecular structures around in my freaking head and got an A in a Polymers and Plastics class just by being there and knowing what was actually happening at the molecular level, never mind a freaking map with directions in plain black and white. I love you to pieces D, but sometimes I really, really don't understand how your brain decides that my making one error in the past suddenly means I need all of the help doing it again in the future. XD |
About The Blog
Welcome to Musings 2.0, my personal blog here on WordFlow! Here, you can find out what I'm doing now and where I'm going next, as well as get my thoughts on the Cthulhu Mythos, assorted sundry writing topics, and various scientific topics. Archives
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