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Monday, October 28, 2013

Hunger Games: Disney Edition


Round One

District 1: Aladdin and Jasmine
                Aladdin’s street smarts are definitely a virtue, but the concrete jungle of Baghdad is nothing compared to the humid jungle setting he will face with Jasmine. Combined with her luxurious upbringing, and lacking a key blue ally, Aladdin and Jasmine barely make it off the pedestal and to the jungle alive.

District 2: Eric and Ariel
                If this were an ocean combat, there’d be no chance for most of the competition. Unfortunately, Ariel’s land legs aren’t as trusty as her old fins, and Eric’s lost in the dirt. They both go down before making it to the supply tent.

District 3: Tarzan and Jane
                An expert in the ways of the Jungle and in the fittest condition of a man, Tarzan easily scoops Jane up and into the trees.

District 4: Quazimodo and Esmeralda
                Quazi trips of the pedestal and Esmeralda thinks she’s supposed to be dancing. Dead before they get two feet away.

District 5: Shang and Mulan
                Expert Soldier enhanced with Wit and tempered by pragmatism, Shang and Mulan deftly make it to the weapons cache and steal away into the shadows of the Jungle.

District 6: Hercules and Megara
                Hercules strength and nigh-invulnerability make the launch of this Hunger Games a cakewalk. Megara and Herc make it to the weapons enclave and stock up before taking shelter in the woods to the south.

District 7: Prince Charming and Cinderella
                Lacking a horse, a rifle, and somehow missing a show, these two fare no better than Quazi and Esemralda. Axed before knowing what happened.

District 8: John Smith and Pocahontas
                Smith’s wartime bravado helps him gain a cache of arms before Pocahontas leads them to a very secure cove quite far away from the bulk of the fighting.

District 9: Milo and Kida
                Kida takes the spotlight from Milo on this one, arming up before pushing her clueless ally into the brush.

District 10: Naveen and Tiana
                Despite their adventures through the New Orleans voodoo culture, Naveen and Tiana don’t make it off the plate either.

District 11: Beast and Belle
                The Beast lets out a forbidding roar as the game begins,  and he and Belle manage to be the first team to the arms depot, stocking up and heading out just as quickly as they came.

District 12: The Prince and Snow White
                Scared to death by the Beast’s roar.

Round Two

District 1: Aladdin and Jasmine
                Aladdin’s street smarts do no good in the jungle, as expected. He and Jasmine are caught bickering over the best approach by Meg and Herc, who have somehow acquired a horse.

District 3: Tarzan and Jane
                Neither of these contenders have been seen since leaving the pedestals. Cries heard in the night begin to spread rumors that they have transformed into hellish beasts.

District 5: Shang and Mulan
                Shang and Mulan devise a cunning trap that lures Kida and Milo into their dooms.

District 6: Herc and Meg
                Somehow finding a horse in the middle of an isolated jungle, Hercules and Meg begin carelessly trampling through the battleground, killing Aladdin and Jasmine along the way.

District 8: John Smith and Pocahontas
                Cameras show John Smith and Pocahontas conspiring to wait out the games, allowing the other contenders to kill each other and minimize their own expenditures.

District 9: Milo and Kida
                While attempting to secure water for their rations, Milo and Kida are lured into a stealthy trap placed by Mulan and Shang. Their bodies end up impaled at the bottom of a pit by sharpened branches.

District 11: Beast and Belle
                While Beast begins strategizing about how best to confront their opponents, Belle sees his calm demeanor becoming his old rage. She unsuccessfully tries to soothe him with song and gets shot in the head by well-placed arrows from Mulan’s quiver. Beast attacks in revenge and is thrown off a cliff by a swinging trunk – Shang was in the shadows.

Round Three

District 3: Tarzan and Jane
                Their bloated remains are found by Hercules and Meg on day 4, the victims of tracker-jackers. Video records Jane’s curiosity getting the best of her.

District 6: Hercules and Megara
                Realizing no one has approached the weapons cache in a day, Hercules and Meg take shelter there, waiting for drops from their many fans.

District 8: John Smith and Pocahontas
                John Smith and Pocahontas come out of hiding to see if there are any other contenders remaining. They are promptly killed by Mulan and Sheng, pretending to be bushes next to their camp.


Round Four: District 5 vs. District 6

                Sheng and Mulan approach the weapons cache, having spotted Hercules mourning Meg’s death. Mulan remembers something about Greek myth, and shoots her last arrow at Herc’s heel. It bounces off because Hercules is not Achilles. Calmly, Herc chucks the ENTIRE WEAPONS DOME at Shang and Mulan, who run back into the Jungle. The dome cuts a swath through the trees and the Asian couple’s remains are found a day later: smashed against the perimeter wall twenty miles away.

Victor: Hercules and Megara.


The reason you don’t see Phillip and Aurora? Because after killing a fucking dragon they became last year’s Champions.

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Getting into the Write State of Mind

I've been experimenting on some casual writing in an attempt to get the ball rolling on a novel that's been in seclusion for a few months. If you have any constructively critical comments, feel free to leave them. It may contain questionable, possibly objectionable content if you have a love for the history it violently re-writes.

*******************************************************************************

The young man fell to his knees and I could hear his muffled sobs escape through the fingers covering his face. Were his hands any lower, I would have imagined seeing a usually hopeful visage flexed into aged lines of despair.  He sniffled. The kind of sniffle you hear when someone is trying to revive his resolve and put on a mask of clarity and defiance.
                “You’ve seen clearly what I have brought to show you. What this will all be and what they will all become. Because of you, John. Everything your life amounted to, all the wonderful things you have tried to bring and all the people you have touched – they will reject you and you will be a broken shell of a man.” I said these, the last words he would ever hear, with a clearly defined sense of wrongness. I didn’t want to be here, lying to this man. It was because he was supposed to die-no, had already died in this concrete jungle of a city, just a few blocks away, that the vision he I showed him became a reality. Clearly, his resolve faltered under the pressure of the last few minutes. It was only ten minutes ago that John was walking briskly through these late evening New York streets with determination and confidence. On the way to meet his lovely wife he stumbled while stepping off a curb and the arm of the body I wore caught his flailing hand. Of course, that was intended. Through that contact he caught a flash of this world’s future and what it looked like. He saw the war and scandal that corrupted not just this land’s government, but that reached across the vast ocean and corrupted that of his home country and every other other so-called civilized nation. He saw the everyday squabbles of the people deteriorate into pettiness. Every hope he had ever had for the future of a world in which he strived for peace was lost in that instant. His body continued to the ground, curled into the infantile security only a womb could provide.
                “I knew it,” he said, accepting the fate that this shattering future glimpse forced upon him. Then he took the .38 special from my host’s extended hand and ended his suffering. By the time the echoes of the screaming had faded and were replaced by the sirens, I wasn’t even in the same state…

…Correction, I was still in the Big Apple. Just not on the evening of Dec. 8, 1980. It was now a brisk spring morning nearly a century later. But on 203rd floor of the towering iron spire that reached into the sky it was a crisp thirty-eight degrees Fahrenheit. I approached the woman sitting in the center of the room with my true form apparent. It was the only way to surrender myself to her complete control.
                “It is done,” I conveyed in my usual manner. I placed the words gently into her auditory cortex, so as not to overwhelm the human female’s fragile neural-cognitive system. She smiled, a wry, evil smile. A glint of light reflected off her dark eyes from the single covered bulb in the vaulted ceiling. I put the book on the table in the middle of the room, a nearly new copy of Catcher in the Rye, as proof.
                “I have another target,” she said, ignoring entirely the evidence of my deed.
                “That wasn’t our arrangement,” I told her as calmly as I could, betraying the roiling aggression beneath the surface.
                “Our arrangement has altered. Pray I don’t alter it further.” She steepled her fingers in front of her face before leaning back in her chair and then standing up. “You have the ability to give me a world that loves only me.” The gleam in her eyes shimmered and the lines on her face creased as she entertained her fantasy-come-to-life. “I have the one and only thing in this reality that you need, and I hold its existence by a thread.” I cringed. She was right, of course. Until I had fulfilled all of the desires of her madness, her complete saturation of drunken power, I would not be allowed to return to my realm whole. “You will go here,” the images in her mind swirled to a theater and a bearded man wearing a tall hat, “and bring me the play bill for ‘Our American Cousin’ as proof when you are done.”

                If I’d had teeth to bare and a brow to furrow, I would have done so. But I relented, just as John had moments before. Just like John, I knew what the future held for me if I did anything but relent to this woman, this paragon of corruption. After all, the other half of my soul was helpless in her grasp.
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So, that's page one of a work tentatively titled 'Lennon.'

Comments? Critiques? Hold the mayo...

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Iron Man 3 Review, Mark 2: 8 Plot Holes [Spoilers, but waaaaaaaay Shorter]

I've been mulling over the events of Iron Man 3 with a bit of confusion. So, I decided to break down the most glaring plot-holes of IM:III in order of least to most severity by category.

PHYSICS
1. Dog tags  in this universe, are made out of some metal that doesn't sublimate at 3000 degrees Celsius. This detail is the basis for which Tony figures out a central mystery.

2. Tony's suit isn't strong enough to pry a piece of re-bar wrapped around the suit's neck, which drags him to the bottom of the ocean. But he does give himself a hand while he's down there.

SECURITY
3. Iron Patriot and Iron Man have systems that let them know where Air Force One is without any clearance, authorization or verification on anyone's part.

4. The President is held captive in the Iron Patriot armor. It's his job to be briefed on the capabilities and function of important investments. How does he not know anything about its use?

5. If JARVIS was in Tony's ear the whole time, why didn't they initiate operation House Party to intercept the Helicopters that blew up Tony's house back when there was a house in which to party?

CONTINUITY
6. Operation Clean Slate - All the Mark suits self-destruct. At least all but one - seeing as how the crane doesn't fall at the end. We can safely assume the Hulkbuster was smart enough to realize it was doing something worth sticking around for.

7. Tony's suit is out of power after flying from California to Tennessee. Why is this suit not powered by Tony's chest piece? Didn't he just spend the first two movies perfecting it so he wouldn't run out of power (or die using it)? He can't even connect the suit to his reactor to charge it - an oversight that serves the plot purpose of expressing Stark's vulnerability and anxiety after Avengers.


RIDICULOUSNESS
8a. Rhodes, as the Iron Patriot, gets captured when an Extremis soldier melts his arm piece, rendering him somehow incapable of fighting back while Tony's armor takes all kinds of melting and still works...as does the Patriot, below.

8b. Killian tortures Rhodes, who hasn't left his war machine armor while being chained up in a mansion-dungeon. With armor that is fine. Works completely. Not broken at all. Can't even see the melted arm that supposedly broke it in the first place.

8c. A lackey steals the Iron Patriot armor, proving it can fly, and shoots his way through Air Force One, proving there's not much else broken with it. As one of the single most important military investments the air force can make wouldn't it be prudent to at least require a password before operating?

8d. The President of the United States of America is in a nigh-indestructible suit of armor that is fully functional, and he's strung up. So, a bad guy can figure out how to use the suit, but the Leader of the Free World is completely unable to figure out how to use a HUD. Rhodes can do it hanging from the outside, as he uses the suit's repulsors to break the bindings holding the President.

Sunday, April 28, 2013

Brewed My Own

Think Geek has been kind to me. I just finished brewing my very first batch of root beer I purchased through them. Four bottles, one gallon. And while I definitely learned a bit about what to expect while brewing, so I can better do it next time, I'll be happy to see what turns out from this.

The kit required I provide my own sugar. Two kinds -  granulated white and brown. So while I had some generics in my cupboards, I opted to upgrade to organic cane sugar for white and organic brown. I did my very best to stay true to the directions involving measuring. It's really the first time I stuck to the recipe so loyally. But I want this batch to come out right. I also hope to investigate additional sources of spices and vary the quantities to come up with something original and arousing.

I would love to hear from you about what you might recommend. I'm even interesting in brewing an alcoholic variant.

This is brief, but there'll be more on Suds and Duds IV!

Saturday, April 27, 2013

Suds and Duds III

In my continuing mission to explore strange new brews, I have come across five more that I'd like to share with you. I get most of these from BevMo, so thanks to them for keeping such a delicious variety in stock. I'd also like to add that ThinkGeek has enabled me to use a gift certificate I received last Christmas to purchase my very own DIY Root Beer kit. I'm looking forward to jumping into that this weekend.

Let's Begin.

You've all heard of my love for Virgil's all-natural approach to root beering, and it doesn't end just because they release a special edition Bavarian Nutmeg Blend. But that doesn't mean that all things Virgil are just as amazing as all others. While I definitely appreciate the bite of this brew, the high licorice content really overpowers the remaining spices and flavours. It pervades in the aroma as well. If you're way into black licorice (the good stuff, not freaking twizzlers or red vines) then I would definitely recommend this to you. However,I'm not all that in to licorice. It also comes up short in the wonderful creamy flavour to which I've become accustomed with this brand. For now, I'll stick with the basic Virgil's, and I'm looking forward to trying the wide variety of their other all-natural sodas: Dr. Better, Cream Soda, and Orange Cream soda.

Interesting note: I tasted this with a group of friends among whom were some very accomplished adult beverage connoisseurs. We discovered that this brew becomes AMAZING with a Mexican liqueur, XtabentĂșn. The liqueur's super-sweet honey taste is diluted by the overhwelming licorice of the Nutmeg Blend, which becomes a fabulous hybrid of an adult beverage enjoyable by anyone (21 and over, that it.:))

 Next, I blind tested Captain Eli's. The aroma filled me with a spice-heavy creaminess that I might have enjoyed two or three times too many. The taste had a great husky bite to it and it left me feeling like I'd just taken a mighty swig from my favorite porter at English Ales. It was a full-bodied concoction that I enjoyed to the end, when I mixed it with another brew in this review to make an awesome root beer float.
It should be noted that, among drinks with naval rank in their names, this doesn't stray from quality. Captain Eli wolud mix wonderfully in the company of Captain Morgan, Sailor Jerry, and/or Admiral Nelson.

Third on this list is a brew I may have mentioned previously, but shall remain unmentioned until the end of this review. It came to me in a small cup with a creamy, frothy aroma that filled my olfactory sense with a wonderful vanilla. When I tasted it, I was reminded of summer days in the pool at my Aunt Whitney and Aunt Donna's old house. Smooth like velvet, the flavour encapsultated my taste buds to hold them hostage with a gentle bite, full flavour, and a lingering creaminess that didn't evaporate slowly. It was the best-tasting of those reviewed here. I said that aloud after my second generous taste and was immediately surrounded with stifled laughter. My girlfriend sneaked in an imposter. I've said that Henry Weinhard's was an old favourite of mine, but since they switched out real sugar for that deleteriously inferior high-fructose corn syrup sweetener wanna-be, I've stayed away from it. She wanted to see if I could taste the difference, and I can say to you that I could not. Nor do I know if I'll ever be able to. But it did remind me that just because something tastes good, it doesn't mean it's good for you. C'est la vie.
Last on this list, and as a favour to another friend of mine in Yosemite National Park, is Waialua. I regret that I didn't even bother to inhale the fragance of this brew, as I was all-too eager to imbibe the contents of my glass. What resulted was an intense mouth-feel followed by the most unique sweetness of any root berr previously reviewed. It was very full0-flavoured and I enjoyed every drop. I did note, however, that the aftertaste was markedly similar to cough syrup, a very sweet one. It's also worth noting that I was able to determine which root beer this was based on its original sugar content - Maui Cane sugar.

And now for an as-I-write demonstration:

I've got a bottle of Route 66 sitting on my desk which has probably just warmed up to optimal flavouring right about now. Before I taste it, I wanted to share that I bought this root beer because my late grandmother, Doris, was one of the world's foremost authorities on the Dust Bowl. During this time, millions of mid-westerners across the U.S. packed up everything they owned and moved out to California. The route they took was US Route 66. It's basically synonymous with the Dust Bowl migration. I'm dedicating this review to you, Gramma, and I hope the root beer lives up to your memory, in its own small way.

Aroma - Just out of the bottle, I can detect and intense, spicy, full-bodied vanilla cream aroma that, because of the previously elicited memories, reminded me of waking up at Gramma's house on Christmas morning...usually around 2 a.m. I would lie awake waiting in eager anticipation for my queue to rip through some wrapping paper and discover wonderful things. Here's to that association!

Taste - The mouth-feel and bite are at the right level to make the perfect tingle in my mouth, but the vanilla cream flavour is gone in moments, leaving me with root beer that is more a memory than actual taste-bud blowing explosion of spice. Fitting. The sweetness is in all the right places and I can practically feel a heft oomph of flavour as it hits my stomach. White it's not the best I've had, it is a far cry from the worst.

That's all for now. Stay tuned for more Suds and Duds.

Friday, April 19, 2013

Suds and Duds II

Today, I will honor Sprecher Fire Brewed Root Beer with a taste test and review. At first sight, I noticed that this root beer has "glucose syrup" listed as its sweetener. Bizarre, to me. I'll look it up.

Interesting. It appears to be a less-sweet grandpa to HFCS. It was in use before HFCS was widespread. Ok. No apparent health concerns with this one. It still has sodium benzoate, which is included in most other rootbeers I've reviewed.

The Smell test: The waxy nature of the cup I'm using to inhale the scent of this brew is interferring with the scent itself, which appears to be a very robust brew, with very little of that creamy aftersmell I get from better brews. I didn't have a freshly chilled mug to taste this, unlike Vefele's glasses that she enthusiastically provided during the taste test earlier this week.

The taste: I don't know if there's something wrong with my sense of taste today, but this root beer's taste is unremarkable. It almost doesn't even taste like root beer. It's more like Abida (a terrible brew I didn't review last week because I was still wrapping my head around how Louisiana could produce root-beer flavoured water. It's like a bad Limp Bizkit album. Points if you get the reference.) The bite is there, the flavour is there, but it's muted somehow. I am purposefully holding off eating my very tasty-looking fish burrito to write this, and provide an unadulterated tasting. Unfortunately, it was almost not worth it. It's better than Abida in that it tastes more like a root beer than something you'd drag out of the gulf of Mexico. But it lacks in aroma, it lacks in filling my mouth with joy, and I'm not very impressed in either way with it. But it's root beer. And I will drink it. I will also give it a second chance in a real glass cup if anyone protests this review.

Until next time!

Monday, April 15, 2013

Root Beer is awesome.

In the last month or so, I've become a root beer connoisseur in training. In the last week, I've personally tasted ten different varieties, all of which are made with cane sugar. I can't stand HFCS (sorry, Weinhard's).

Here's the breakdown, from least appealing to most:

10. Jack Black's Red Root Beer - This was part of a series of six root beers I tasted blindly, thanks to my loving supportive girlfriend, who concocted this wonderful experiment in weekend activities. The reason I list this at number 10, despite its very unique flavour, is that it just didn't taste like a root beer to me. It had a very cherry taste that overwhelmed the body of the beverage, and it's mouth feel was substantially stronger than the smooth taste of the ones I prefer. To each their own, and I can definitely see a time when I could drink this- on a porch at high noon during summer, or perhaps by the pool. It's much more "cherry coke" than root beer, though. The kids will love it.

9. AJ Stephans Boston Root Beer - Another of the series of blind taste testing, this caught me off guard - mostly because a green bottle says 'Mickeys' to me, and we all know what kind of garbage goes in to that. Safe to say I was quite pleased with the more traditional flavouring of this root beer. It wasn't very notable otherwise. But at least it wasn't cherry coke masquerading as root beer.

8. Sioux City Root Beer - I tasted this one on my own a few days ago, and it used to be number five of five. So, you can tell there are better things ahead on this list.

7. Dad's Root Beer. This one is a classic, and I happened to find it bottled at my local market. If you can, try not to drink out of a can (and if you can get your root beer in a bottle, chill it in a frosty mug first!). What can I say? This root beer has certainly stood the test of time by staying true to its formula. But times change and so do tastes. DRB is quite excellent on its own, but if it wants to compete with the ever-expanding breadth of available palette-pleasers, it should step outside the formula and add some spice.

6. Fitz's Premium Root Beer - A creamy delight, with just enough sweet to call it pop and almost enough body to call it beer. Bottle in Missouri, this was a really good way to start the top the six. It was also one of the ones from the blind taste test.

5. Topping off the top-5 chart is Sacramento's own River City Root Beer. An acquired taste I could tell, but its full-bodied flavour carried my nostrils into some place very exciting. I have a penchant for local brews, and I was well-rewarded with this in my hands. This was another one from the blind test.

4. The Original Bulldog Root Beer - Initially, during the blind test, I thought this one was too sweet. But the more I mulled it over and let the suds sink into my taste buds, I realized that the enveloping vanilla world it created in my olfactory intake was really nice to visit. I wouldn't make an addiction out of this one, and it would definitely keep me from going overboard in a social gathering. But imagining this paired with a home-made vanilla bean gelatto whet my appetite for dessert in a way that isn't all that common anymore. It's like that ravaging 'must-have' feeling you get when you know what you want and nothing gets in your way.

3. The top three were ones I sampled myself at some point, at rounding them out comes Virgil's Root Beer. When it comes to customer satisfaction, these guys do it almost best. First, they win the prize for no artificial anything - ever. And they're gluten free. The flavour world you experience is one of a smooth, rich, and creamy vanilla topped off with a licorice twist. This one is a keeper, and it's dangerous for me to take it to parties - I want to share it with everyone initially, but I find myself surrounded by empty bottles shortly thereafter.

2. Sparky's Root Beer. If those of you reading this haven't heard of Sparky's, then you haven't discovered the Pacific Grove Brewing company Knox. When I first had this one, I drank it out of the bottle and thought it was just okay. This led to the rule I stated previously - never drink these out of the bottle. The second time, I had it proper - nice chilled pint glass. Blew my freaking mind. The flavour is so bold and robust that I thought Chuck Norris had wiped his forehead and roundhoused the sweat into a bottle. Like Virgil's, Sparky's is one I can drink almost non-stop.

1. Yeah, this is a new one. I have only had this Root Beer once, when I was out with friends. But thanks to a well-timed trip to BevMo, I write this with a four-pack sitting on my desk. Hank's. I would like to venture into the realm of hyperbole and say things like 'Unbelievable,' or 'The Best Ever.' I will resist. I am so new to this world of root beers that I must remain composed and keep my resolve for future experiences. However, it has the best flavour of any of the others listed. It's smooth, creamy, has just the right mouth-feel, enchants the nostrils with a dazzling array of spices, and has an aftertaste like ice cream. The people at Hank's knew what they were doing in 1996 when they released this gem. It's super-sophisticated: I see myself drinking this in a gentlemen's lounge wearing a suit, in lieu of any cigars. I would want to savour this for as many minutes as possible, and I will probably divide each bottle into two servings, just to make it that much more anticipated.

Also, in my queue are Virgil's  Bavarian Nutmeg Blend and Waialua Soda Work's Root Beer. I'll be happy to get back to you when I've finished those right after I...Hey, where'd these empty bottles of Hank's come from? And where did my four-pack go...

Oh, Bother.