Mobile Brainfart

With all the McD's lawsuits, u'd think asthmatics would sue 4 discrimination over their shakes. *slurp* *wheez* *slurp* *wheez*...

Taking the Wind from Beneath My Wings

You know...I had this whole joking commentary I was going to make about an article I found that noted how Muslims have now outnumbered Roman Catholics something like 19.2% to 17.4% of the population worldwide. There was even a statement by a Vatican official who commented on how basically Muslims breed like rabbits, while Catholics are more chaste. Okay, he didn't put it exactly like that...but the subtext, people, was there.

Then I started reading the comments on the page and, well...angels cried. I decided that it wasn't the article I was there to comment on...it was the responses TO the article.

America. You people are freaks. Xenophobic, bigoted, close-minded Catholic freaks. And by America, I mean the collective holier-than-thou, Father-forgive-my-sins right-wing ultra-conservative red-state thou-shalt-worship-no-false-idols Catholics as a whole, not individuals who may have a more open mind. So don't flip out on me, cuz I know how self-righteous ya'll can be!

Case in point. Some of the responses to the article are as follows:

"Islam is a vile, evil religion of death, destruction, and hatred."

- Matthew from Chicago

Way to spread that message of peace, love and tolerance there Mike. Because we all know how peaceful *coughCRUSADEScough*, tolerant *coughINQUISITIONcough* and loving *coughSALEMWITCHHUNTScough* the Christian heirarchy has been, historically.

"Ironic, though, there are hundreds of movies shown every year depitcing the Catholic religion (i.e. Ten Commandments, The Robe, King of Kings) and numerous books written about the subject.

But I have yet to see anything on the islamic religion, which is basically a cult. Is it because islam is ashamed of it?"

- Schmetterling from Sacramento

Yes, Schmetter("Sieg Heil")ling. Because the measure of a religion's greatness is how many hollywood films get made about it. Mel Gibson is a holy prophet, apparently. Although you'd think with that logic, Judaism would have kicked Catholism into obscurity, since we all know the Jews own it. Hollywood, that is.

"Islam will grow, islam might spread, untill us brits whip your ass's and send ya all packing which will happen :) watch this space"

- ScottishGirl, Port Glasgow

...I don't even know where to BEGIN to make fun of this one. First: get over your identity crisis, because I'm sooooo sure the blokes in Westminster Circle really consider you a Brit. Second: the Brits couldn't whip their own asses if their heads were on backwards. Ehh, I'm done with this one.

Annnndddd....to show I'm not so biased:

"Muslims proably do not molest the young believers either as a big majority of catholic priests do to their young male church members.In certain countries you would proably be put to death for doing this if you are a muslim."

- Annie, Florida

Now there's an advertising slogan. "Islam: Our priests don't diddle the choirboys."

They get my vote.

A Rose By Any Other Name

....would still prick your finger and draw blood, right?

So why the name change? "Trick Shots" yesterday, "Dreamcatcher" in L33t-speak today. Hell I can take it further back, when it was once "Brainfarts du Jour", and before that "the Monkey House".

Evolution, that's why.

I'd ignored this blog-space for a while; I'd been turned off by some people and their response to the things I wrote. So the Drama! It beat on me, wore me down. Maybe I'm older, maybe I'm wiser, maybe I'm not really giving a flying fuck...but I miss writing here, even if it is irrelevant, irresponsible bullshit. See, I'm not writing for YOU, and by you I mean the collective YOU out there who may stumble across this speed bump on the information highway and decide to stop and take a photograph. No, I'm writing this for me.

Dreamcatcher is both a way for me to reconnect with the person I once was, and tie that in to the person I am today. The l33t-speak lettering is my way of saying that with Dreamcatcher, I'm going to tie in several different concepts: creativity (dreaming), technology (l33t d3wdz); spirituality.

And really it's just to fuck with your heads. I'm not writing it for you, but that doesn't mean I won't mess around with you while you're here. Sort of like that freak museum in the opening scene of House of 1000 Corpses. You think it's there for you to go in, gawk, and have a good time...but really it's a trap to sucker you into their little freakish world.

So. Welcome. Or not. Totally up to you.

It All Began With A Rock

Coundown, 24hours to Zero hour. Or 20-20 Hour, as the case may be.

People keep asking me: "So, are you nervous? Excited? Scared?"

I don't know what I am, to be honest. Right now I'm pretty apathetic about it, because I'm waiting. I'm not building anything up with anticipation; I'll deal with whatever fears I have when I'm sitting in the chair and they hook up their neutron laser device to hover menacingly over my eyeballs. I'll become giddy with joy when I open my eyes for the first time, sans glasses, and I'm able to see the clock on the far wall.

But right now, I'm very "blah" about it.

If anything, I'm fascinated by the whole process. Looking up how it got started, you can't help but wonder if this is part a folk tale regarding Lasik surgery, to make it seem more interesting a field than it really is.

The story goes something like this:

It all started with a miracle (their literature, not my words). One day, in rural Russia (as opposed, I suppose, to metropolitan Russia because that makes all the difference in this story) received a chip of stone in his eye.

(Now...let's stop here for a second. I'm 38 years old, and I'm done some pretty stupid, dangerous, limb-risking stunts. I've climbed the walls of buildings, hopped mailboxes and parking meters, slid face-first down slides and ice mountains on old schoolbags and folded cardboard. I've climbed trees, dove into the dark and murky fluid we here in New York pretend is ocean water. And I've broken more eyeglasses than I can remember, quite a few of which were subsequently repaired with Krazy Glue - on one such instance, bonding my glasses to my own face.

I have never, ever, ever, had a chip of stone lodged in my eye. What kind of silly shit do you have to do, to get SHRAPNEL lodged in your eyes?! Back to the story.)

So, distraught (you think?!) and in pain, he ran to the hospital and was treated for a corneal lesion (note: apparently this town in Russia wasn't as rural as we've been led to believe. And where are his parents in all this?)

After a few days, the pain began to subside and the blurriness got better. And better. And better. In fact, his eyes would not stop getting better. Within a few weeks, he could see even more clearly than before the accident! (again, how rural was this place, really? They had detailed medical charts of this kid's occuity on hand from before the accident? Come on!)

Later, doctors found an explanation for this miracle: the boy was nearsighted before the accident and the gravel carved a small incision in his cornea, making it flatter and easier to see in focus (...translation: he kept rubbing his eyes and scratched the shizzit out of them.)

Russian doctor Slava Fydorov reported the case in 1972 and turned this accident into a new field - refractive surgery.

(Okay, I need to ask this: what was the testing process like? "Come here, let me use this scalpel and cut into your eyeball, you'll see better - trust me!")

So there you have it. I'm trusting my future vision propects on a science founded by a kid who wouldn't stop rubbing his eyes.


8:29 AM

Foster Grant Saved My Life Today (Myspace Archives)

It goes without saying (so I'm saying it anyway) that I was happy as a tick on a dog this morning, when my vision cleared up. I mean, sure I'm still blind-ish - but it's my normal eyeglasss-wearing level of blind, not this new old codgerish "where's my reading glasses" crap I went through last night. I was pumped, jazzed, ready to go out and carpe the fucking diem. Stepped outside with a smile on my face, a GPS in my pocket and no plan in mind.

Motherfuck, it was like the sun had split itself in two, shrunk itself down to pinpricks and landed themselves on my goddamn eyelids. It wasn't that it was a very sunny day, no; it was more like I'd woke up and been transported onto the surface of the sun itself. There was no COLOR in my sky, just this blinding, oppressive FORCE that, in another life, I would have called light - but there is no word in the English language to describe this entity that filled my retinas. Calling it "sunlight" is like calling a nuclear explosion "fireworks".

I made it as far as my car, one block away. I shut the door and sat there, catching my breath, hiding from the monster energy being that filled the sky. Driving was out of the question; even through my tinted windshield, I could feel it clawing its way under my eyelids, tearing away micrometers of fluid from my cornea, layer by layer.

I knew I was going to expect some "sensitivity to light". Fuck you, Doc. Ya'll need someone to write your literature for you, because in no way does what I felt compare to "sensitivity to light". Vampires were hiding in the shadows, laughing at my stupidity.

I made it back home, determined to try again. I mean come on, this was silly; it's just sunlight, for gods' sake. That's why we have sunglasses, right? And lo and behold, I have 3 pairs that I barely wear anyway - I mean, they aren't prescription - but I was sure as hell going to put them to good use now!

Bold, confident, and shielded behind the subtle tints of a pair of sports shades, I strode back outside once again.

It was a joke. I may as well have taken pats of butter, placed them underneath my eyelids, then covered my eyes with magnifying lenses. Maryjesusjoseph, that sun was fucking mocking me. Stubborn as I am, I refused to back down; obviously to my desperate brain, all I needed to do was ADJUST. Calm myself, let my eyes get used to the light again. Be all zen and shit. I couldn't drive, but I could walk - so I did.

I made it two blocks to the park before I stopped, resting under the protective canopy of the trees. Oh blessed trees!

You can't imagine the frustration going through my mind. It was too bright to be outside?! This is insane!! I took a deep breath, manned up, and kept going.

Now...I want you to picture this scene. I was standing at the exit of the park, ready to step out onto the busy afternoon Broadway street in Inwood. There are no trees where I'm about to step out into. No shade, save where I'm standing. Yes, standing - literally in the last spot of cooling shade, with a sea of sun-lit concrete before me.

I stood there for...maybe 5, 10 minutes. I couldn't move forward. I was afraid to step out into that sunlight. Suddenly I'm on a goddamned episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and I'm the vampire. I was scared to step out into the light! And when I did....oh holy moses, was it agony! The shades were absolutely useless, I would have stopped and stopped that plastic piece of shit into the ground except it would have meant I'd be in the sunlight for even longer, and it wasn't worth it. I made it another block before I stopped into a Rite-Aid for refuge.

Then, like the fabled Burning Bush, I saw it. The sunglasses rack. I swear I heard angels singing in the background.

I must have tried on every single pair they had, searching for something that would work. Most were useless, but I settled on these yellow-mirrored, black-framed pair of Foster Grant sunglasses that hugged my face so snugly I doubt oxygen could have gotten in. I didn't care what they cost, as long as they worked. I put them on, and stepped out into that visual inferno once more.

Bliss! I couldn't believe it, they were actually working! Sure it was still blindingly bright, but at least now it was tolerable! I didn't feel as if gravity had centered itself on my eyelids, and lifting them to open my eyes was no longer a herculean effort.

So, if you're in the market for a good pair of sunglasses: Foster Grant, "Daytona" model. They saved my life, and FG - if you ever need anyone to do a commercial for you, I'm your man.

"Sensitivity to light". Under-fucking-statement of the year.


1:03 PM

The Eyes Have It (Myspace Archives)

So I got my eyes dilated today. It's the first time I can remember having it done, although I'm sure it was done to me many times as a child. I've been wearing glasses since at least 5 years of age, and I wore an eyepatch (arrrgh!) for months before and during. Seeing clearly, at least visually, has never been an option for me my entire life (but like Matt Murdock, my other senses have adapted to compensate...)

The question is, why now - at 38 and 7 months - did I suddenly decide I needed to have my eyes dilated?

Because I'm opting to have my eyes lasered in a week. Woot!

Still, it's an odd experience, this dilation. I feel newly blind. I'm naturally near-sighted, which means of course that i can't see clearly at distances. My vision really isn't that bad compared to some, and again its something I've dealt with my entire life. But this is a whole different experience.

I'm typing this squinting at the computer screen, because if I put on my glasses I can't see the screen at all. I was looking at the newspaper on the subway on the way home from the opthalmalogists' office, and after a while I realized it was hard to see very well - so I put my specs on.

Blind as a bat. Oh, don't get me wrong - I can see at a distance fine enough, although it was slightly more blurry than usual. With my glasses I actually have something like 20-10 eyesight, but suddenly it was like wearing a pair of old glasses that you'd outgrown.

I'm sitting here with my glasses perched atop my head; to read i take them off. To look at the television, I put them on. I feel like I'm 80 years old, putting on a special pair of reading glasses. I went to check my phone for messages, I couldn't read the screen without putting it up to my nose! "Mama, where's my metamucil? Who turned up the heat? Where's my reading glasses?"

They told me it'll be like this for hours, possibly until tomorrow.

*sigh*

So how's YOUR Friday night? :)

May Day

WARNING: The surgeon general has determined that reading this post may cause a severe shock to your sense of humor. If you have a weak or deficient sense of humor, you should avoid reading this at all costs. Really. I mean it.

In honor of May Day, also known as International Workers Day, I'm doing my part to show solidarity with the immigrant workers here in the U.S. who have chosen today to hold demonstrations against current (or potential) U.S. immigration laws. So without further ado, my ode to the International Workers:

Q. Why doesn't Mexico have an Olympic team?
A. Because everybody who can run, jump, and swim is already in the U.S.

Q: Did you hear about the Italian-American who emigrated to Poland?
A: He raised the IQ of both countries.

Q: What's two miles long and has an IQ of forty?
A: A Saint Patrick's Day Parade.

Q: Why are camels called "Ships of the Desert"?
A: Because they're full of Muslim semen.

Q: What's the difference between a bowling-ball and a West Indian girl?
A: You can only get three fingers in a bowling-ball.

Q: What do you get when you cross a Puerto Rican and a Chinaman?
A: A car thief who can't drive.

Q: What do you get when you cross a Mexican with an octopus?
A: No idea; but it can sure pick lettuce.

Did you hear about the Polish library that burned down?
It's okay... they saved the book

And finally, just because I like this one:

A little black boy goes into the kitchen where his mom is baking. He puts his hand in the flour and wipes it all over his face. He looks at his mom and says, "Mom, look, I'm a white boy!"

His mom slaps him in the kisser and says, "Go show your father!"

He goes to his dad in the living room and says, "Look dad, I'm a white boy!" His dad slaps him hard in the face and says, "Go show your Grandmother!"

The boy goes in his grandmother's room and says, "Look granny, I'm a white boy!" His grandmother slaps him in the face and sends him back to his mother.

His mother says "See. Did you learn anything from that?!"

The boy replies, "Sure enough did. I've only been white for 5 minutes and I already hate you black people!"

4:23 AM

Wii or 3?

Oh, the decisions!!

Unless you're living in a geekless environment, you're probably aware - even vaguely - that the Console Wars have started anew. Microsoft fired it's salvo a year ago with the XBox 360, gaining serious market share. Now it's Sony and Nintendo's turn, and in true competitive spirit they're both releasing their new consoles - the Playstation 3, and the Wii - within days of each other.

But which to get?

I'm not an XBox fan, never was. I'm not impressed overmuch with the 360, so I avoided it in favor of waiting on the PS3. Then I heard about Nintendo's console, the formerly named Revolution - now the Wii - and it gave me reason to pause.

The PS3 is a monster in mechanics. First generation Blu Ray disc player, supercomputer-comparable Cell microprocessor, online and wifi capabilities...it's the juggernaught, waiting for its chance to blow out the competition. Despite production problems and a hefty price tag - $600 - it's the giant on the field, looming over the competition and ready to smother the XBox legions at the first opportunity.

Then there's the quiet little Wii, with it's motion-sensing wireless controller and emphasis on functionality and fun, rather than mind-boggling graphics and animation. It comes down to that one word: fun. The Wii looks...fun. It's a crowd pleaser, a party game where a mixed group can get together and have a blast. And I'm intrigued.

Plus it's relatively miniscule price tag of $250 has me stopping to go "hmmm..."

At the Sony Store here in New York, a guy camped out in front of it's doors this past Monday and hasn't left. The PS3 console releases tomorrow, Friday the 17th; he's the first in line, and there are - right now - 350 people behind him. Waiting for tomorrow morning when the Sony doors open, so they can be among the first (and, with the limited production, perhaps only) owners of a PS3 this holiday season.

I'm not planning on joining them.

I haven't looked to see if there's a line at a particular store near my home, but I've looked up their inventory online and I know this store has 120 Nintendo Wii in stock. If I'm going to join the Console Wars, this will likely be my battleground.

Provided I can even get my hands on a weapon, of course.

Wish me luck.

Lost in TiVo Land

I'm sorry, but I just do not get the whole TiVo thing.

Obviously that makes me a dinosaur. Or maybe the little girl from the Emperor's New Clothes, who - no matter now hard she looked - just couldn't see what the big fuss was about.

Seriously, was using a VCR that hard? Did I need a computer to guess what I want to see? Do I really need to record a whole season of American Idol...since logic dictates that if I didn't have time to watch the episodes during the season, I probably still don't have time to watch them now.

Some will argue that the quality over VCRs is significant. Digital, baby, it's a new revolution! It's hard to argue with this. Except...most people don't have HD televisions yet. And frankly, do you really need to watch The Flavor of Love in digital quality picture?

But do you want to know what really gets me about the whole TiVo thing?

You pay for it. Bloody hell, you twits are paying someone so you can record your shows. Are you kidding me?! You pay $12.95 a month so that someone will record all your shows for you, when I paid $3.49 for an 8-hr VHS tape 3 years ago that I'm still recording over.

Oh. And Tivo prices are going up. $19.95 a month, unless you pay for a year or three in advance.

Do you really watch THAT much television, and yet have SO LITTLE time to sit down and watch all of these shows that you claim to be addicted to...that you're willing to pay a monthly fee so that a machine can record it for you?

In this age of recordable, rewritable discs...someone has suckered the world into buying their product that will record things for you. For a fee.

Here's a thought. Maybe...just MAYBE...if all the TiVo tool-heads hadn't bought the product, but instead held out for...oh, I don't know, a RECORDABLE DISC PLAYER...you wouldn't be paying these outrageous fees.

Then again, as P.T. Barnum might have said: There's a TiVo customer born every minute.

Elmos Off the Back Of A Truck?

The world has gone to hell. And I'm not certain if I'm referencing the crooks or the retailer who got ripped off.

Apparently a shipment of the latest got-to-have-it toy, Elmo THX (what happened to Elmo Dolby Surround Sound?), has been hijacked. Toynapped. Whatever. It was on it's way to a Wal-Mart in Arksansas on OCTOBER 31st (!) when the shipment of 100 little fuzzy muppets vanished into thin air. Poof. Or giggle-poof.

Now...let's put aside the whole Children of the Corn imagery this invokes, and stick to the story at hand. Because this gets interesting.

Wal-Mart says it will do "anything" to ensure that these Elmos are returned to their shelves in time for the Christmas rush (suddenly I'm picturing Mel Gibson in "Ransom", and have offered a trip to a comedy club in New York as a reward for the shipment's return.

A comedy club. In New York.

These ridiculous Elmo dolls are selling on eBay, right now, for an average of about $100 each. That's a potential return of about $10,000 for the criminals.

Compared to a free entry at a comedy club in New York.

I'm thinking, Wal-Mart doesn't really want them back but has to go through the motions just to make themselves look good. There's some Wal-exec's daughter right now, up to her armpits in red fuzz surround by giggles.

Post-Hallow's

The old grey horse just ain't what she used to be, ain't what she used to be...

I finished off my Hallow's celebration by walking in NYC's Greenwich Village Halloweeen Parade. It's something I haven't done in ages, and looked forward to doing. You feel like you're part of something, like there's this big party happening all around you and instead of standing on the sidelines, watching - you're in it, part of the show, one of the entertainers that others stood packed together like sardines just to catch a glimpse of.

I was...surprised, I guess, to see the number of people walking who either a) didn't bother putting any thought into a costume and threw something together out of their close, or b) didn't bother to wear one at all. It felt more like a mob who wanted the thrill of being in the parade, without actually contributing to it. I hate to say it, but it sort of cheapened the experience for me. Too bad.

Still, it was Halloween and it would have taken a presidential act of war to dampen my spirits completely. I was out with friends and having a good time, and ultimately that's all that mattered. I shared a hug and a laugh with complete strangers on every block; it was that mardi-gras, new years eve feeling where everyone is everyone else's best friend. It was great.

There's a note I wanted to share with you all; an artist who draws an online comic that I'm a big fan of (PvP) by the name of Scott Kurtz wrote a comment about Hallow'een that touches one of the things I feel strongly about the holiday myself. Read, and see if you agree.

If you think about it, Halloween can be a very benficial holiday.

The importance of Halloween is that we spend it facing fears. We take the things that normally make us afraid, and we embrace them. We dress up as them, we purpousely force ourselves into frightening situations. We do this for fun, but more importanly, we do it to take away some of its power.

In this day and age, I think that concept is more important than ever. It seems that lately, everyone is trying to manipulate us with fear tactics and mongering. The government, the media, special intrest groups, religious groups, secular groups. Fear mongering is the new black.

I hope that everyone had a great halloween and that you all take a moment to embrace the spirit (no pun intended) of the holiday. Try to make yourself immune to all this fear mongering and hopefully we can return to a nation of pragmatic thinking sometime soon.

Happy All Hallows, 2006!

Make A Difference Day

Apparently this past Sunday, October 29th was Make a Difference Day, a day for anyone to carry out a volunteer project that helps others. I was completely oblivious to this fact, ironically because I was volunteering in my neighborhood. Now, I don't know if it made a difference - but I had a good time, and hope I helped a bunch of kids enjoy their halloween.

The locals here have an annual hallows celebration in a small park, about a block away from my house. This year they decided to team up with the Parks Department and have a bigger celebration in the bigger park, which is about 3 blocks away. It's right by the Hudson River, there's a nature center, natural woods, fields...you get the drift.

Except.

The Parks Department decided, last minute on Friday, to pull out. And reject the group's idea of having pony rides, because they didn't want horses in the park. And because of high winds, eliminate the giant slide and the inflatable "bounce house".

So what did that leave? An arts and crafts tent, face painting tables, and a field set aside for children's games.

Guess who was put in charge of overseeing the children's game field? Which now became the main attraction for the event?

Needless to say it was a challenge, trying to find ways to entertain all of these kids of varying ages, to their parents satisfaction. After all, if I'd brought my kids out in this chilly wind, someone had damn well better be trying to entertain them to the best of their ability!

Unfortunately, the game organizer hadn't planned on being the main showcase and didn't exactly have a full plate of games, so yours truly became an impromptu MC and games master for a few hours. I'd like to believe the kids had a lot of fun; I defintely tried my best with what I had, mot of it ad-libbed on the spot.

There was just something incredibly satisfying about entertaining these kids. Seeing them all dressed up in their costumes; the ninja mock-sword fighting with the pirate, the cowboy drawing his pistol against me and my flintlock. I would have liked to see more volunteers dressed up in costume, getting into the spirit; it is Halloween, after all.

But still. It was fun, and the look of happiness on those kids faces was worth the cold and wind.

Happy Halloween to all, and to all a spooky night!

But Will It Sell in Pakistan?

Just in time for that most-evil of holidays, Halloween, comes this little mp3 player from our friends in Russia: the Saint mp3 player.

Perfect for listening to those Catholic podcast sermons on, the Saint is, unfortunately, only a concept player. Still, every would-be Goth on the planet would die (pun intended) to get their hands on this little black-enameled beauty as the ideal wardrobe accessory.

Still, it only has a limited sales ability; once you get past the death-heads, the satantics, and (once the Pearly White model comes out) the Christians...you're sort of stuck in terms of your market choices. Where do you go from here? Take a cue from McDonalds, who were smart enough to offer local cuisine choices on their international menus. Go global, religiously! The six-pointed Star of David is an ideal choice for that niche Israeli market, and a crescent moon shape will not only get you the Muslims, but you'll win over the wiccan/druid crowd as well!

Of course, the only real problem is that none of these models will ever be able to communicate with each other and share files.

Normal On Halloween? Perish the Thought!

Every so often, I run through Craigslist postings under activities and events, looking for something interesting to do. This time, however, my eye was caught by the following ad:

I’ve always found Halloween to be an overrated event, although I’ve done my share of dressing up and all that silly stuff. So, instead of going with my friends to parties or to the parade, I just want to do something normal, something ordinary, something un-halloween on Halloween night. How about just a nice dinner (sushi is perennial favorite), hanging out at a jazz club afterwards, or just relaxing at a café and have a good chat. I wonder if there’s anyone else out there who share my sentiments.

I'd planned on ranting about my usual "Halloween is the Red Headed Stepchild" complaint, but this really got me boiling. Overrated? Why? Because the stick up your ass seems to get in the way of your partying? Silly stuff?

Here's the thing. If you don't like Halloween...fine. Stay home. Go out to eat. Or not. But do me a favor, would you? Shut the hell up, and let the rest of us have our fun. I'm not a Christian, but do you see me complaining about all the religous motifs during the winter Yule holidays? No!

Halloween has always been one of the big holidays for me, for as long as I can remember. As a child growing up, my grandparents would throw a halloween party for all of the grandkids, and then our aunts would take us trick-or-treating in the neighborhood. Growing up in the projects of the south Bronx, you'd think this would be a problem; it wasn't. If people chose not to open their doors and see our made-up happy faces, screw them - we'd keep on knocking until we found someone who did.

As I got older, I evolved from candy-begging treater to chaperone, taking out my younger sisters and cousins on the same routes I'd walked each year, pointing out the dangers and things to avoid, what candies to throw away and which were safe to eat. I'd show them which stores in the neighborhood were the most generous, which gave old candy and which handed out silver coins that jingled in our bags with every bouncing step we took.

Halloween was fun, it was one of three times a year when a kid could be allowed to be as childish as they wanted to be: their birthday, Christmas...and Halloween.

As I got even older, I never lost that feeling of excitement as the holiday approached. It became a time when, as an adult, you could once again experience the innocent glee of being a kid again. You could shrug off the mantle of reponsibility, adulthood, of your job and problems and bills and whatever else hung heavy on your shoulders - and have fun. You could put on a mask and suddenly you were transformed, changed into anything imaginable! You could be the princess, the knight in shining armor, the superhero, the scary monster, the fireman! Your passive, shy personality could be hidden behind a gaudy, sparkle-encrusted mask and for one day - one day in an entire year - you could be the life of the party, the center of attention, the one everyone laughs with and has a good time talking to.

It's Halloween! You can be sexy, nerdy, scary, dashing, kooky, creepy, sultry, childish, adventurous...your only limits are your own imagination. This is a night for masks, but it's also a night to let that inner child out to play. It's a night of transformation, of metamorphasis; it's a chance to be something you've always dreamed of being, but never had the courage. Or the opportunity.

One night a year, and you can be anything you want to be.

Why, pray tell, would I choose to be normal on a night like this?

The Madden Curse

I'm not what you call a fan of the urban legend - those stories of potential doom or luck that inevitably find their way into my mailbox, often forwarded by well-intentioned but misguided and gullible friends.

However, every so often something comes along that just makes you sit back and go "hmmm..."

The Madden Curse, for those of you among the uninitiated, is an urban legend based on the popular line of sports video games put out by EA Sports, Madden Football, named after former Oakland Raiders head coach and current TV football analyst John Madden. First produced in 1989 as John Madden Football, the video game has been known as Madden NFL since its developers signed a licensing deal with the NFL in 1993, and new versions are released annually to incorporate new and improved features and rosters based on current NFL players. For the first eleven years the game's packaging featured the smiling visage of John Madden; starting with the 2001 version and continuing for the last seven years, the box front has presented an action graphic of a selected NFL star. Each version of the game is dated according to the year-to-come; Madden NFL 2007, for example, comes out in 2006 for the '06-'07 season.

According to a superstition based upon a pattern occurring over the last several years, whichever player signs a deal to appear on the cover of the next version of Madden NFL will suffer a serious injury (or some other stroke of bad luck), resulting in a disappointing performance during the forthcoming NFL season.

Now, I know you're all ready to call total bullshit on this one; so was I. Then I did some reading, and the facts are spooky:

2000: The 2000 edition of Madden NFL was a gentle easing-in to the curse. This was the last edition of the game to feature a photograph of John Madden on the front of the box (as all previous editions had done), but it also included a background picture of the Detroit Lions' star running back (and future NFL Hall of Famer) Barry Sanders. As events turned out, Sanders didn't play a single down during the 1999-2000 season (or ever again), shocking the Lions by abruptly announcing his retirement and ending his ten-year career just before the start of training camp that summer.

Since Barry Sanders quit well before the start of the 1999 regular season, EA Sports had enough time to substitute a different graphic on the packaging of later shipments of Madden NFL 2000. The newer covers replaced the Madden/Sanders combination with a picture of Green Bay Packers running back Dorsey Levens, who spearheaded a Packers team that had just played in three straight NFC Championship Games and back-to-back Super Bowls. Although Levens performed reasonably well in 1999, he was bothered by a bad knee that he had re-injured the previous year, and Green Bay finished out of the playoff picture with a so-so 8-8 record. Levens was used only in a reserve role after that, and the Packers released him at the end of the 2001 season.

2001: The 2001 cover of Madden NFL featured Tennessee Titans running back Eddie George, who the previous year had led his team to the Super Bowl (where they came up just short against the St. Louis Rams). Although George enjoyed his best season ever (in terms of yards gained rushing and touchdowns scored) in 2000, he bobbled a pass (that was subsequently intercepted and returned for a touchdown) in the Titans' season-ending Divisional Playoff loss to the Baltimore Ravens, and the following season, hampered by injuries, he saw his rushing average sink to an all-time low.

2002: The 2002 cover of Madden NFL featured Minnesota Vikings quarterback Daunte Culpepper, who the previous year had made an impressive NFL debut in taking his team to the NFC Championship Game (which they lost to the New York Giants). In 2001, however, the Vikings struggled to a disappointing 4-7 record before Culpepper suffered a knee injury and missed the last five games of the year (while Minnesota finished the season a dismal 5-11).

2003: The 2003 cover of Madden NFL featured St. Louis Rams running back Marshall Faulk, whose rushing and receiving prowess had led his team to the Super Bowl twice in the previous three years. But Faulk was plagued by an injured ankle during the 2002 season, his yards gained rushing total dropped under the 1,000 mark (after four straight seasons of 1300+ yards), and the Rams missed the playoffs with a disappointing 7-9 record.

2004: The 2004 cover of Madden NFL featured Atlanta Falcons quarterback Michael Vick, who in 2002 (his first season as a starter) took a team with a dismal 16-32 record over the previous three years and led them to a respectable 9-6-1 finish and a spot in the NFL playoffs as a Wild Card entry. In 2003, though, Vick suffered a fractured right fibula in a pre-season game one day after Madden NFL 2004 hit store shelves; he played in only five games that year as the Falcons sank to a lowly 5-11 record.

2005: The 2005 cover of Madden NFL featured Baltimore Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis, who had recorded a career-high six interceptions in 2003 as his team reached the post-season for the third time in four years. But in 2004, Lewis failed (for the only time in his NFL career) to record even a single interception and sat out the final game of the season with an injury as the Ravens just missed qualifying for the playoffs at 9-7, and in 2005 he suffered a torn right hamstring in Baltimore's sixth game and missed the rest of the season as the Ravens dropped to 6-10.

2006: The 2006 cover of Madden NFL featured Philadelphia Eagles quarterback Donovan McNabb, under whom the Eagles had amassed a superb 59-21 regular season record and made five straight playoff appearances in the previous five years, the last of which culminated in an NFC Championship and a Super Bowl match-up against the New England Patriots (which Philadelphia lost by three points). After he was selected for the 2006 Madden NFL cover, McNabb flouted the curse by saying that the injuries associated with it "might be a trend, but I don't believe in the curse at all." True to form, McNabb suffered a sports hernia in the first game of the 2005 season. He played on for another eight games despite the painful injury, but after being re-injured in a contest against the Dallas Cowboys, he finally opted for surgery and missed the final seven games of the season as the Eagles finished last in the NFC East.

2007: The 2007 cover of Madden NFL featured the Seattle Seahawks' star running back Shaun Alexander, whose 5.1 yards per carry rushing average in 2005 spurred the Seahawks to their best season ever and their first Super Bowl appearance. Three weeks into the 2006 season, Alexander broke his left foot in a game against the New York Giants.

Now, I'm not saying you should believe this stuff...but if I were you, I wouldn't start signing any merchandising contracts with EA Sports any time soon. 'Knamean?

What Would It Cost To Bathe In It?

We GOTS to get our H2O on, baby!


Yes, true believers, seeing is in fact believing. This is good old fashioned Aqua. With bling.

Bling H2O comes in 750ml frosted bottles studded with sparkling Swarovski crystals. The bling water was earlier meant just for Hollywood celebs and hi-fi socialite circle, but now you can gulp it down all for £30. That's $56 dollars US, for us rubes living on The Continent. A friggin' fiddy-dollar bottle of water; and you thought Perrier was expensive, back in the day?

And to those of you who think, "oh, I'd spring the cash just to try it!" - first, hold on while I get the smelly fish I'm going to slap you silly with. Second: you'd still be just a poser, unless you had the ducats like Paris Hilton does. Cuz money to her is so secondary, the beeyotch poured a glass of this stuff in her dog's drinking bowl. Yeah, that's right - her dog.

It's so sad. You're paying for the bottle, not even for the water.

Which means it might pay off working as a busboy at the next celeb-filled gala. Suddenly recycling used bottles becomes a lucrative business.

Is That a Joystick In Your Pants, Or...

Yes, true believers, the ultimate fantasy has come true. Underwear that will let men finally have complete and utter (udder?) control (hah!) over that one portion of the female anatomy that most guys (yours truly excepted, of course) seem to have problems understanding.

Nintendo panties, with a built in controller. Talk about learning to push all the right buttons! I can hear her know. "More to the left..to the left...now RIGHT-RIGHT-LEFT-LEFT-circle-circle-circle!!!"

On the positive side, fellahs, when you need to take a break you can just hit that pause button, go grab yourself something to eat, take a nap, and come back fully refreshed!

Be careful, however, if you're one of those "button mashers" who don't know what they're doing and just keep hitting buttons until something works. They might bruise easily.

Don't forget those nights when she's "got a headache". A quick press of the start button and it's Game On, baby!

Let's just hope the first game you play isn't in the Mushroom Kingdom, kneamean?!

And no, Virginia, the buttons don't really work. Sheesh.

Like Little Kids The Week Before Xmas

Boy, some of you RL people are way too over anxious hahah! I've gotten a few comments wondering what, exactly, my costume is going to be this year. I don't think it's a big deal, although in years past I have gone over the top. Except last year, I was lazy :)

But, since friends are asking - who am I to dissuade their curiosity. So, in the interest of friendship, here's a clue:

Hallowed Ground

It's that time of the year again. Time to pull out those dusty old rubber bats to hang from the ceiling, the black tapered candles, the coffin for display in the living room.

Of course, for ME it's been that time of year about...4 months ago. You can never start celebrating too early, I say.

Really, my Halloween celebrations come down to three things: (1) the costume, (2) the venue, and (3) who I spend it with.

I love my friends, each and every one, but there's been a long, hard struggle over the years trying to get them to feel the same joy of Samhain that I do. And it's been a somewhat losing battle, with moments of success here and there.

For me, I think it's because I have such great childhood family memories of Halloween. My grandparents would throw a party at their home every year for all the grandkids, and there were a number of us. We'd have all the traditional stuff - bobbing for apples, a costume contest, music. We'd go trick or treating, and in our neighborhood trick or treating required skill and cunning. We lived in an 11-story project building, so of course we'd hit all the apartments. Then you'd go out to the corner bodegas and collect a few coins, some penny candy - whatever they felt like giving out.

Then...you'd venture out. This is when it got dangerous. We had a shopping area nearby, about...5 blocks away. Third Avenue, in the Bronx, at 149th street. Big shopping strip that stretched from 149th up to 155th. The important part here, you need to understand, is that the stores along this strip would also give out goodies.

The dangerous part? Raiders. I shit you not, there were packs of OLDER kids roaming around who, themselves "too old" to demean themselves by donning a costume and begging for treats, would instead prey on us kidlings and raid our goodie bags. It became a matter of skill to spot these predators and circumnavigate them, yet still make your way to the stores to collect your just rewards.

It was sort of like being Jerry going after the cheese in the fridge, even though Tom was sleeping right outside the door.

Back to the present. I ordered my main costume pieces a few weeks ago - I found a woman who custom made the parts I needed, and I can make the rest myself. So the first part of my Hallowed plans are nearly complete.

Now I just need to find a venue. I'm considering traveling up to Sleepy Hollow, because there is just something awesomely poetic about that, but I also don't intend to be bored of my gourd. It's 3 weeks away, so I've got time.

Once I decide on a venue...well. That would just leave the companions, wouldn't it?

So what're YOU doing for All Hallow's Eve?

Let the Games Begin

What is a game designer?

You ask someone today about it, and they'll invariably lean towards video games. You call yourself a game designer, and people will wonder what console you've designed for.

But ultimately, what is a game designer but someone who, well...designs games? Who outlines the concept, rule book, and game mechanics for a game of any kind?

Board games. Role-playing. Video Games. Live activity games. Card games. Sports games.

Do you think the man who invented baseball would consider himself a game designer? Or the person who invented hopscotch? Marbles?

When I was younger, I'd babysit my sisters and cousins. I'd have to find ways to entertain them, and back then cable wasn't an option. I'd do things like tie bed sheets togther between dressers and bedposts, and make a maze out of it. I'd make scavenger hunts for them, devise traps; I'd invent new things for them to play, together.

When I was older and discovered Dungeons & Dragons (shh!), I couldn't help but wonder to myself: can I make this any better? If I changed these rules, and added these...how does it change the game?

How can I make a game similar, but using an entirely different mechanic?

I've designed video games, on my old Tandy Coco3 (published in Rainbow Magazine!) back in the mid 80s. I've conceptualized role play/dice systems, new video games, online rpgs...

And now here I am, doing it again. I was talking with a friend about my escapades in StreetWars and, of course, found myself thinking:

How can I make this better?

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...

I've already written up half of the game rules, and conceptualized the mechanics. And even at this halfway point, I think it's much more involved than the "other guys". It's definitely friendlier. And unquestionably, it'll keep players in the game for most, if not all, the length of the tournament.

I've even written to a particular manufacturer about a tie-in, and I've plans to speak to local businesses about...

Well. Let's not give the farm away, shall we?

The Spy Game. Look for it, in cities near you. If you happen to live near New York City, that is.