Bail Out!

I'll probably never jump out of a window like this in my lifetime (and 56k-ers, please forgive me if I just caused your Internet connection to stutter). But I have jumped out of quite a few proverbial windows, maybe a few falling planes. And the rule of thumb when you're as cautious and obsessive as I am: always, always wear a parachute!

I used to have a 55.7% (F) grade in my Film as Literature (hereafter referred to as FilmLit) class. The mere addition of a paper - late, worth half credit - brought it up to 67.3% (D). I didn't think we did such a small amount of work in the class, but I guess it's worth the grade security (yay, I'm not failing anymore!). So you're probably never going to hear me whining about needing to bail out of a grade anymore.

And another great perk: there's little room for my grades to fall any more, being that I have only a couple more weeks of school before absolute freedom (well, I'll need to get a job, and get crackin' on my driver's license, but still...)

Is it rude to not?

In the tried and true tradition of Art Linkletter and Bill Cosby, kids say the darndest things.

My brother's fiancee has moved into my house, and with her comes her four year old daughter (soon to be my niece). A little girl like this is cute as heck, but as Uncle Whats-His-Name from Spiderman says, "With great power, comes great responsibility." So often times I'm forced to deal with the overwhelming cuteness, the underexperienced mind of this youngster that goes by the name of Michaela (cute name, too - can she get any cuter?!).

She's been taught that some things are rude already, and she is usually a well-behaved girl. But sometimes she acts up. For example:

Mom: Michaela, eat your dinner!
Michaela: Is it rude to not?

Well, that's only the beginning!

M: What are you playing?
Me: I'm playing Metroid.
M: Why are you shooting the bad guys?
Me: Because they're trying to kill me.
M: Why can't they stay alive?
Me: I said because they're trying to kill me.
M: What are those?
Me: Those are energy cans. They give me health.
M: If they don't give you health, would the game get mad?

Joy of joys. And that's barely getting into it!

M: What happened to him?
Mom: He cut his hair off.
M: If he didn't, would his hair get mad at him?

Good gravy. I'm not even going to continue. She may be aggravating at times, but she is better than a 14-year-old freshman boy, in the one respect that you can make things up and the 4-year-old will believe you ("I'm playing Pokemon, it's not a game you should be watching because it has blood and guts and people dying. Go play with your Magna-Doodle.") while the freshman will not.

In conclusion, I hate school. Home isn't much better, but the fact that I can mess with this kid's head makes me happy sometimes.

Coffee and Other Just Desserts

In four days, it will be Terry Scott Taylor's 55th birthday.

...huh? Nobody else knows who Terry Scott Taylor is? Well, take a look at his Wikipedia page and get back to me.

You back? Okay, good. Terry's contributions to The Neverhood made it unique as an "art game" so to speak, giving it that extra bit of style that it needed to be truly stand-out. He came back to work on Skullmonkeys, and Boombots after that. He's a truly talented guy. I haven't bought a single one of his albums, but the Neverhood soundtrack remains one of my favorites (I need to buy his Imaginarium CD to complete the collection).

Mr. Taylor, I salute you.

Fiction Therapy

I don't deal with my anger the way most people do. If something's troubling me, I write. I tend to write more convincing dialog if something is stressing me, which seems quite logical to me (especially if my characters are having a rough time as well - an old story of mine happened to spawn from a family argument, and what I got when I finished for the moment was the most gruesomely descriptive standoff scene I've written to date).

But I don't necessarily have to be angry to write. Sometimes I'll write when I'm perfectly happy, and that helps me with my descriptions of environments and characters, sometimes with my personality development (especially the case with my recurring character, Tera le Vont).

My recent writings are rapidly turning from simple time-killing sessions to serious commitments. I actually finished a short story yesterday to present to my Journalism teacher at school, and he loved it. He, like most others I've spoken to about my writings, has suggested that I try and publish something once I'm out of school and looking for work.

I've had a ton of ideas that I'm working on, and since I'm not afraid of people stealing my ideas (they're mostly just simple summaries, and stories can't all be original), I'll talk about them here.

The first story idea, the one that I shipped off to my teacher, involves my recurring character, Tera le Vont. She's a natural philanthropist, and she loves to help people. Her boyfriend wasn't aware that she was like this at first, but soon he discovers this side of her that he's never seen before.

The second idea takes place on the set of Exile: Arctic Circle, the latest in the long-running line of reality television shows. The day after she is voted out, a girl named Meredith is found raped and murdered just outside the tribal camp. Of the seven tribe members left, one happens to be a private investigator - but he's already the prime suspect, and he's quickly losing the trust of his fellow tribe members. He doesn't care about the million dollar prize any more; he just wants to clear his name and find out who really did it. All while keeping it secret from the cameras.

Finally, if anybody's seen my fiction at DeviantART, there was an incomplete piece that I think I called "King's Fault" - the story of a princess of a desert kingdom, who has been in the middle of a government conspiracy all her life and not been aware of it. I'm totally rewriting it from scratch, so if you've read that one, forget everything you read.

Power Overwhelming

E3 has hit me like a ton of bricks. It's hard to get excited about all these new games when they all require hardware I don't have (though Alan Wake looks pretty cool). This only further proves that old theory: once you think you're up to date, they toss another generation of consoles to buy. I only bought my PS2 last year, and recieved a computer capable of running Doom 3 (albeit at low detail) as of three months ago. Now the requirements have been upped for the next generation of games. Let's run down the list of ton-of-bricks games, as provided in part by Gamespy.

1. Castlevania: Dawn of Sorrow (DS)
I loved Aria of Sorrow to death, almost as much as I loved Symphony of the Night. The story was perhaps the most interesting story in the series to date, so I got hyped up when I heard there was a sequel in the works. I'd love to see what becomes of Yoko (if she even appears in this one).

2. Metal Gear Solid 4 (PS3)
And I haven't even played MGS3 yet. But this one will be an actual sequel, meaning the Snake we know and love (and probably no Raiden). I NEED SCISSORS! 61!

3. Final Fantasy VII: Dirge of Cerberus (PS2)
One that I can actually play, provided it isn't cancelled. I never played through FF7 yet, and I really should (the only problem: finding a computer capable of running it, plus the PSF patch - I must have accurate music!! And I can't afford to buy the PSX version!).

4. Perfect Dark Zero (X360)
Oh, how I wish this was not exclusive. I hate Microsoft.

5. Pokemon XD: Gale of Darkness (GCN)
That subtitle intrigues me. How can Pokemon be dark...unless you played as Team Rocket, or if they made it more "adult" themed (but that's impossible, given that the Pokemon designs are all cutesy already).

6. Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess (GCN)
Hoo baby, I've been looking at this one since it was announced. Looks darn impressive!

7. Alan Wake (PC)
The 50-second teaser trailer released before E3 already has me interested. "A Psychological Action Thriller," from the makers of Max Payne. It's cool-looking but I want more info...

So as you can see from this far from completed list, I'm being pummeled repeatedly. You may also notice that, despite the obscure reference, I didn't list Starcraft Ghost yet. That's because for some reason I don't find it as exciting as I used to. Maybe I'm just sick of stealth games in general (not even Splinter Cell 3 could pique my interest for more than five minutes).

Actually, you know what? Screw modern games - I want to go back and play through Xenosaga Episode 1, followed by some Doom and maybe I'll play through FF7 like I said I would.

Screw you, ton of bricks.

More Like A Bridge Too Short

Another good weekend wasted to the ground. This could have been the weekend that I did something really big and finished a project or something. I have no idea where the time went, but it already feels like Monday. I have very few days until my graduation comes up (no, I'm not posting pictures...) and I need to bail out of an F grade in my Film As Literature class. I also need to increase my grade in PE, or else I will have to take just those two classes all over again next year (should have paid attention...)

It's chaos.

I'm also struggling to get invitations made and sent out to the families that I wish to see at my graduation party. I have a concept that I just haven't put on paper yet, and I must have these invitations ready to be sent by the 30th. Oh the humanity!

Fiction 1: Wing Alpha

I have such a large backlog of abandoned fiction. Little of it has been touched after their introductions, and other parts of it are segments of stories that I intend to write later and incorporate the scenes in later. But they all have one thing in common - none of it has ever been read by others.

I'd like to post the first of many pieces here today. I called it "Wing Alpha," and I intended it as a reinterpretation of the plot from the infamous Genesis game "Zero Wing."

Captain's log, stardate 2293.08/21. We're en route to the Alliance base on Charon. Sensors have detected some abnormal activity in this sector, so we're keeping our eyes peeled in the meantime.

The ship was barely in view of Mars from here, let alone Charon. We cruised along at a steady 300 meters per second, and at this rate we would hit Charon in about a month. "Ensign Fisher, any word on what's causing those sensor reactions?"

"So far I've picked up a major mass of radioactive materials, possibly a plutonium fusion engine in cruise mode. Could be a battle cruiser, but not one of ours."
"Right...the Admiral placed a ban on plutonium fusion after too many accidents with core explosions...could it be the Europan Empire?"

"No. We drove them from this sector," Commander Alk informed me. "It's likely from outside the Sol system."

Just as I was about to consider whether or not to approach and hail them, the ship shook violently with the force of twelve Tilt-A-Whirls. "Damage report!" I shouted.

"We've got plasma fires on decks 4, 5, and 6, and we've lost our right rotational thrusters. Weapons are failing," Fisher reported.

"Nothing could have caused plasma fires faster...there may have been several C5 fusion bombs planted on those decks, sir!" Alk said.

I snatched my broadcast microphone from my seat arm. "Attention, crew and passengers of the SLCS Spectre! We are under attack! All personell, evactuate immediately!"

"We're being hailed, captain!" Lieutenant Vercetti shouted amidst the chaos.

"On screen!"

"Well, look what I found...this should be fun." It was an audio-only channel, and I didn't recognize the voice.

"Identify yourself!"

"My name's not important to a pack of humans like you. I'd like to inform you that your colony on Charon is now in my possession. And you...you're not going to live to see my rule over the Solar Liberty Coalition." An unnatural image of a man with inhuman amounts of robotic attachments appeared in the center of the bridge.

"Identify yourself!!" I repeated, increasingly angry.

"You'll never survive. I suggest you leave before things get...drastic." A battle cruiser uncloaked in front of us and destroyed many of the escape pods.

"Fisher, do we have weapons back?"

"No sir!"

"What about the flight deck?"

"Fully operational, one fighter ready to launch. None of our pilots survived the blast."

"I'll have to go myself. Alk, you've got the con!" I broke into a run to the nearest turbo-lift and made my way to the flight deck. All the while, the mystery cyborg's face appeared on all the monitor screens on deck, frequently taunting me.

"You'll never make it," he'd say, "it's impossible for one man to survive against the Yamato IV!"

I found a mass of dead pilots at the force-fielded entrance to the flight deck. Somebody had opened the airlock, and I couldn't get in. I fumbled with my ID card and inserted it into the panel. But alas, it had been destroyed by one of the explosives. I had to think of a way before the plasma fires closed in on me. They were spreading everywhere, and now I couldn't go back. I was sweating so much I was afraid I'd dehydrate in an hour, all the while hearing the repeated taunts of the bio-freak. "Ha ha hah, you're trapped! I've got control of all your ship systems! I've cut life support to the bridge, and your crew will die a quick death in a matter of seconds!"

An explosion behind me cued me to look harder for a way to the airlock. Frustrated, I kicked the control panel, and with one last blip of life, the forcefield started to fade. I held my breath and leapt into the cockpit of the fighter, closed the canopy, and fired up the life-support systems. I then launched into space as the Spectre made a few final explosions, and ultimately imploded on itself. The Yamato warped out as I was about to thrust my way to it. Now I was on my own.

This Is Only A Test

...of the Emergency Mobile Blogging System.

Had this been a REAL test, an entry may have been involved. Somehow. I
just posted this through Blogger's email blog posting service thing.
So if for any reason I have to use a public terminal that can't access
Blogger, but CAN access GMail, there be hope for me yet.

Quality Assurance

I have renewed faith in Coca-Cola's quality assurance department.

It was either a glitch in the system or a free prize, but I got two Vanilla Cokes for the price of one - out of the vending machine. I unassumingly slipped my dollar bill into the slot and pressed the button, praying that the machine wasn't out of stock. I heard the familiar rumble that announced my drink's arrival, but the machine kept rumbling when I retrieved my prize. A few moments later, another Vanilla Coke ejected from the machine into the bin.

I was caught unawares. I looked both ways and took both drinks, before running back to the safety of Room E-9 where I eat my lunch every day. I had one Coke with my leftover stew and bread, and saved the other one for a celebratory snack at the end of the school day.

Thank goodness it's Friday.

An Introduction

Well, well. Another teenage waste has appeared on the Blogging scene. I'm not going to try and be different like some gimmick blogs I've seen around (like The World's Dullest Blog, or that one that Pat Sajak maintains). I will try and let you guys get to know me.

I'm WildWeasel, and I used to post a lot (read: a bit) on DeviantART. I've since given up, because my commitment has soared to an all-time low. Reviews on my pieces rarely helped me improve, and I just couldn't keep up with my intense amounts of watch lists (I'd get about 80 deviations in a given week sent to my inbox). So I left.

I've since registered an account with Fictionpress (I aspire to be a writer). I have not recieved a single review to date.

But since I left DA, I have lacked a place to vent. Not to say that I would be your typical ANGST teenage writer. I'm relatively calm, and rarely utter a word that may potentially be objectionable (and even then, it's only a harsh word or euphemism, never a swear). Maybe I should start swearing in Japanese; it would be better for me.

I will be sure to keep this maintained on a regular basis, maybe adding some random gadgets that I found on HTMLgear or something. But never will this degenerate into a one-update-a-month "Sorry I Haven't Posted" festival.

Weasel bows and steps off the stage.