Whats Yer Punk?
Whats Yer Punk?
Whats Yer Punk?
What the fuck.
So Clinton gets a blowjob and lies about it. Impeached.
Bush fabricates a bunch of shit about Saddam having chemical weapons, gets discovered that he's lying about it, and no impeachment.
Consistency, politicians? Please?
[disclaimer: this does not deny that saddam has those weapons. just not in the quantities that we're being led to believe. in fact, we're completely ignoring the facts on this one and going on the supposed 'leadership morals' that got Clinton in trouble. as with all political threads, don't post comments or i will delete them and ban you.]
Wow, way too much computer gaming lately.
Lan party after lan party after lan party... and all that leading up to the huge disappointment that was the PCK party where we lost consecutively to the teams that ultimately took first and second. By 3AM, I felt like I had run out of games to play - and so did the rest of our group. So the next three hours were spent in a half-asleep limbo playing Stepmania.
Needless to say, it's time for a break from computer gaming and a return to the basics. Max agreed with my complaint that we haven't played enough SSB lately. On top of that, I got a surprise call from Thomas basically saying the same thing. Personally, I think there hasn't been enough Mario Party, either.
That's the thing with hardcore gaming - the good players play the game because it's what they enjoy; it's what triggers the endorphines and adrenaline in their brains and that's how players get the pleasure of being 'in the zone.' I've only once been in the zone playing a computer game - and it turned out to be a game nobody played at all. On consoles, though, I get it all the time - that's how we all managed to spend so much time playing Goldeneye back in the day. SSB comes pretty close to being the same thing, but more importantly, when we all play SSB it's a good time. Zero frustration, very close matches, and we all happen to be extremely good at what we do (hence our owning up on everyone else at Gus's party). Being a good hardcore player isn't about the frustration of constant loss or fighting to develop strategy and skill. It's about just playing, playing, playing. And if you can enjoy that, you've got a good chance at becoming a great player.
I like small competition. As opposed to the big times. The stakes are lower, but the adrenaline rush is just as big, victory is just as thrilling, and the players have enough social skills that they can actually talk and have a good time with one another when the games aren't playing.
A couple weeks there was a shindig at the house of a guy named Gus. Gus was a friend of a friend's younger brother - a friend of a friend of a friend. Nevertheless, I showed up at Gus's house, as did about 25 others. I suddenly found myself in a room warmer than hell, surrounded by high schoolers of all ages, 99% of them male. Well, maybe 92%, since 1% female in a group of 25 would equal out to one guy being 1/4 female and that's just gross.
After a few rounds of 6on6 Halo (a feat accomplished with no less than four big-screen TVs and Xboxes in the same house), our party loaded up Super Smash Bros. on the biggest of the big-screens and organized a tournament with 32 players - 24 or so humans and 8 computer players.
In the third game, one guy suddenly whined aloud when he realized he was matched against Gus in the first round. Apparently, Gus was the king of all things SSB, the winner of the previous tournament, and the only person alive who can use Ness worth a damn at all. Gus easily defeated his opponent, a nameless lowerclassman from Lamar.
The very next game was myself against a similar nameless lowerclassman. Easy win. 12 more games come and go to complete the first round of the tournament. Oh shit, I say to myself as I realize my next match is against Gus, the god himself. I take up the controller and ready up, figuring I'll lose but I'll at least put in some effort and see what kind of fight I can put up.
Gus gets himself situated and readies up. The map is set to Onett. Thank God it's a decent level. He kicks my ass close-range, then he kicks my ass long-range. I'm up to about 80% damage while he's comfortably at 20%. I finally manage to get in some good shots, bringing it up to 80-70. He throws a good Smash attack and kills me right as a Warp star falls where we had fought. On my second life I rush straight over to the Warp star, and for some reason Gus hasn't grabbed it. I make a guick grab at it and nail him with a direct hit, and we're tied at 0% and two lives to go. A few "ohh's" come from the crowd of 20 or so watching the match - apparently it was some kind sign of defiance against the tyranny of Gus and Ness.
In the second life I definitely hit my stride and managed to kill Gus before I lost the life. This threw the crowd into a frenzy and suddenly we had a tense moment on our hands. As Gus killed me in retaliation, a disappointed "awwww" came out and we returned to our tie: 0 to 0, one life left. Gus started to slip - I hit him across the map with a couple easy shots. I take a lead and the tension comes back, stronger than it had been before. Gus quickly fights back, and soon it's 80-70, myself in worse shape. I fly over him as he holds a green shell and shield in mid-air in anticipation of his throw. He waits until I begin to fall to the ground and then throws the shell and takes me out. Gus wins. The crowd screams with indeterminate emotion and Gus shoots up out of his chair and celebrates his victory for a split second before turning around and throwing out his hand to shake mine, pushing out the words 'that was close' while trying to regain his breath.
And the minute I lost, I gained the knowledge that the next game we play, I'll win. I feel these things.
In the next round, Gus lost for the first time ever in competition to Thomas, who went on to win the tournament. We, the seniors, truly rocked Gus's party. Here I thought we were just playing for fun all this time.
So I took the Camry of Love out on a joyride. Going north on Davis (Davis Blvd, the one in NRH) I followed a guy on a Harley, so loud I couldn't hear the Avalanches album on its second time looping. So Harley and I go past a gas station where there's another guy on a Harley looking to turn out. The two Harley riders friendly wave to each other as the one passes.
That struck me as interesting. Southern hospitality taken to extremes, one could say. On the other hand, here were two guys who didn't know each other's names, but they picked each other out of a crowd of motorists because they rode Harleys. They were both fairly decked out in the leather and the jeans and black t-shirts, but they weren't your typical bearded Bubbas you see at Christmastime riding down the highway with teddybears in their arms and their wives sitting behind. No, these were two ordinary fellas who just happened to ride their Harleys around. They probably had decent day jobs and lives outside their bikes. And still, each rider waved to the other because he knew that there were qualities in that guy that were prerequisite to having one of those bikes. The two riders waved to each other like brothers from the same fraternity, like two men who had grown up as Scouts, like ... they knew each could trust the other.
Sometimes people ask me *why* I'm a game-lover, why I keep doing what seems like such a monumental waste of time. I can't help but think to myself because I couldn't get a Harley.