Saturday, December 22, 2007

Substance Happens Part 2

I found out I was wrong (thankfully). The blue alien girls in Mass Effect don't have a...ahem...two for one deal. Instead, it's more like Kiff in Futurama. The blue alien girls fall in love, mate, and while mating they link minds with the other person. From this other person, they copy their mind and personality into themselves, and then subsequently place it into a child they give birth to, asexually.

Long story short, they simply clone themselves, asexually, but place aspects of their mate's personality and mind into their child. This means they can mate with literally any sentient creature. It's personalities that are getting passed on, not genes. This also explains why all the blue alien girls look alike. They're literally the same set of genes, cloned over and over.

Wait, this also means that they're a geeks dream! All they care about IS personality!

Oh well, we can dream. ^_^

Here we go, part two:

1. Despite your odd previous adventures, you now find yourself with at least two, that's right two hours of non-stop side-questing. You need to prove Saren framed you, and then infiltrate...I mean legitimately join the Specters, which are basically the alien council's personal FBI/CIA/GOON-SQUAD. So, what's your plan?

Go to the strip club? (Go to 2)
Get thrown off the case? (Go to 3)
Plan? (Go to 4)

2. A strip club. How unbelievably necessary. Despite the promise of lewd encounters, you can't help but suspect that the entire place was designed by some guy at a computer that not only hasn't ever been to a strip club, but has never even touched a woman either. The blue alien girls writhe around, but they couldn't be less sexy if they tried. A bald, middle aged guy is trying to get your attention. Do you:

Talk to him (Go to 5)
Shoot him in the head (Go to 6)

3. You're no fool. There's no way of solving the case without first getting thrown off it! Unfortunately, you aren't actually on the case...but you know a guy who was! Was he thrown off the case, and told not to go any further? You bet he was! We've found our guy! Where are you going to look for an off duty cop?

Strip club? (Go to 2)
Police headquarters? (Go to 7)
Randomly shoot aliens, hope he's one of the cops that shows up? (Go to 6)

4. You mean you don't have a plan? Well that's great! You know how long they spent making this gigantic, non-linear, space opera? You're really waltzing through it without a clue?! Fine, go to the markets or something. See if I care.

Go to the markets? (go to 8)
Something? (go to 7)
See if Max cares? (go to 9)

5. He's an old, drunk, and charmless corrupt cop. There's no rational reason he's still alive. You recommend suicide, but to no avail. Instead, he drops a clue that your Captain was...GASP! DUN DUN DUN!

Gasp? (go to 10)
Dun Dun Dun? (go to 11)

6. It turns out you can't kill non-villains. Frustrated, you decide to play 'Fable' for a while, instead, and wipe cities clean of life. Good times. THE END

7. After slogging through a few random alien 'could you check up on this guy' quests, you watch an awesome dinosaur guy verbally smack around a cop. He wants you to help him murder a guy who is withholding evidence for the case. Is this guy in?

He's in. (Go to 12)
He's so in. (Go to 13)

8. Holy shit, everything's really fricking expensive. All you can buy is the right to buy more types of items. Of course, you can pawn 90% of your stuff just to get a single gun...

Let's do that (go to 14)
Let's not do that (go to 15)
Shoot the vendor, grab all the merchandise, fly to the planet Mexico (go to 6)

9. I do, I was bluffing. Have some cheesecake and go back to 4.

10. He and the villain have a history! Not that kind of history, the kind you get thrown out of the army and boy scouts for, but the other kind, where the villain once royally screwed him! Not that kind of royally screwed him, the kind you get thrown out of the army and boy scouts for, but...oh never mind. You also find out where to find the renegade lizard cop. (Go to 16).

11.George, George, George of the jungle, friend to you and me! AAAYYAAAA! AAAYYYYYAAAA! Watch out for that tree!

Watch out for the tree (go to 17)
Too young to get the reference (go to 18)

12. Of course he is! Give the man a shotgun and go to 19

13. Now that sounds a little weird. Easy does it, sailor. Give the man an assault rifle, and go to 19.

14. Sounds good to me! Screw your horribly equipped teammates! You now have a big fricking gun! Unless of course, you're a class besides Solider. In that case you just lost everything. What, are you going to cry about it?

No (go to 15)
Yes (go to 20)

15. You're going to need some extra help. Where to?

Police station (go to 7)
Strip club (go to 2)

16. You find the renegade lizard cop in the hospital, stealing your thunder. He caps a bad guy in the head, saves a hostage, and wants in. Is he in?

Yes (go to 21)
No (go to 22)

17. Whew! Close call! Go to 10.

18. Dang fangled teenagers. Back in my day we didn't have anime! We watched serialized cartoons about retarded animals, guys in high school mascot outfits, and ridiculously ineffective super teams! They weren't used to sell video and card games, either! They were used to sell toys! THE END FOR NO APPARENT REASON

19. Do you have both aliens?

Yes (go to 23)
Not the renegade ex-cop (go to 2)
Not the awesome Krogan (go to 7)

20. They hand you around prison like a collection plate. I don't know how you got in prison, or what that has to do with Mass Effect, but I heard the line yesterday, and wanted to use it. Sorry about that. Try and walk it off. THE END

21. Good! Give him a sniper rifle and let the iguanaman stand in front. (go to 19)

22. Eh, fuck him...and not that kind of fuck him, the kind you get kicked out of the army and boy scouts for...on second thought, that joke is getting old. Better give him a sniper rifle and bring him along. (go to 19)

23. Okay! It's time to go to the strip club and kill everyone. Do you:

Go to the strip club and kill every other person? (go to 24)
Go to the peaceful alien embassies and kill everyone? (go to 25)
Go to the peaceful alien embassies and kill every other person? (go to 26)
Go to the strip club and kill everyone? (go to 27)

24. You get your ass handed to you by the guards, and not that type of ass handed to you, the kind you get kicked out of the army and boy scouts for. Last time, I promise. THE END

25. Why you chowder-head! I know your heart was in the right place, but you forgot who you were killing again! Things get a little tense at the human embassy after that, but your boss assures you that everything's going to be fine, and if you would just look that way for a moment, he'll tell you about the rabbits again. THE END

26. Despite your assurance that it was technically a better choice than #25, your boss still puts you down, John Steinbeck style. THE END

27. Enough with the high school literary references! You kill absolutely everyone in a gleeful fit of mayhem, and have the chance to show a shred of mercy by sparing...

KABLAMO! (go to 28)
ZZZZZAP! (go to 28)

28. Fuck yeah! You step over their corpses and find the boss. After blowing up his annoying robot sentries, he tells you that you only have a few minutes to go save the techno-gypsy alien chick before she dies! Krogan offs him, which is hilarious, and you go to save her. This is it! It's now or never!

Now? (go to 29)
Never? (go to 30)

29. Yay! The assassins are dead, you saved the hot, yet untouchable, two-toed alien gypsy girl, and you have all the evidence you need to both discredit Sarek and join the intergalactic gestapo! Moseltov! Go to 31.

30. You douchebag. No cheesecake for you. THE END

31. You've made it! Wait, you missed 500 other small sidequests...well, better do them before moving on. You're going to have a lot of plot related encounters, and it just won't be the same unless you mercilessly crush them under the heel of your 50th level character's boot. Be sure to pick up your inter-stellar license to kill on the way back to your ship. From now on, the whole universe is your oyster, to shell, eat live, and then slowly digest! Congrats!


Saturday, December 01, 2007


What happened? What's going on?

I remember getting Mass Effect a week or two ago...and then everything after that is a blur. A very wonderful blur...

Well, apart from some of the 'choices' your character has to make. To demonstrate, here's an extremely short 'choose your own adventure' story. I'm only doing the Guy's version though, sorry Amber. Enjoy!

1. You're standing at the helm of the ship Normandy. You are [your name here] Shepard, the second in command of the vessel. Yes, like Riker, only without Troy...and you have to do something about that. No time now though, the commander is looking for you and he wants you to talk with an alien! Do you:

Agree and quickly go there like a good little boy? (go to passage 2)
Hit on the milf doctor? (go to 3)
Harass the disabled pilot (go to 4)?

2. The alien is waiting for you, and he's babbling, Matrix 2 style. Luckily, he's quickly interrupted by the deaths of thousands of people. Aliens are attacking the colony below, and the alien is going to judge your performance. Do you:

Heartily agree to do your job? (go to 6)
Whine about it like a bitch? (go to 6)

3. She's British and that's really damn hot. A quick check of the strategy guide unfortunately reveals that she's not a romantic choice. All you have is a girl with an ambiguous ethnicity, and a blue alien. Damn it. (go to 2)

4. "You can't walk and that's hilarious! Now shut up and earn that parking space, Mr. 'It's the future, but I'm still going to wear a baseball cap'." (go to 5)

5. Just kidding. Seth Green, you're awesome. Nice hat. (go to 2)

6. Either way (although whining makes you look like a wuss), you're now on the surface of the planet with a useless character that you're never going to include in the party again, and also...whoops, the third guy's already dead! Do you:

Interrupt the mission to make sure he gets a burial (go to 7)
Do something that isn't retarded (go to 8)

7. You make the proper funeral arrangements, and only a few dozen colonists are killed by aliens in the process. (go to 9)

8. Apparently that makes you evil. (go to 9)

9. The hot girl with the ambiguous ethnicity (half black? Spanish? Russian? Dark Italian?) arrives. She's hot, but stupid, and you can't help but notice she's trying REALLY hard to look pretty. Hell, her armor's pink, and it's designed so you can see the shape of her breasts. What the hell is the point in that? Amber thinks it's a storage pack for sandwiches, and I can't disprove that. Do you:

Pursue her as a love interest? (go to 10)
Wait for the alien chick? (go to 11)

10. Congratulations, you now have to act like a complete douchebag for the rest of the game (go to 12)

11. Nice choice! I bet she's hot. (go to 12)

12. ZOMBIES! Yes, Sci-fi zombies! You kill a hundred zombies and robots, and the good alien is killed by the main bad guy, but you don't actually see that. You were too distracted by all of the brainless colonists that are wandering around. Do you:

Kiss up to the ungrateful peasants? (go to 13)
Beat up the crazy guy? (go to 14)
Mercilessly extort everyone for profit? (go to 15)

13. Isn't it nice being a good boy? The survivors throw you a few trinkets and patiently wait for you to finish fighting all their battles for them. Even the stupid girl loses respect for you, and you soon resign in shame, left to do nothing besides a few guest spots for daytime television. Way to go, toolbag. THE END

14. BAM! Down he goes! Take that, mentally disabled person! Now all you have to do is push a blind man down some stairs, and your day is complete! (go to 16)

15. Why not? Whether through charm, or a gun pressed against their head, nothing's more profitable than intimidating the meek. As an afterthought, you supply your home address, so they can forward the world to you, should they ever inherit it. (go to 16)

16. You disable some bombs, yadda yadda yadda, and you get a vision of...*YAWN*, and before you know it, you've completely failed your mission. Well, shit. Pretty soon you're back at the main space station of the alien council. It's like a cross between the United Nations, the Mall of America, and a brothel. It's beyond awesome! Do you:

Do all the sidequests? (go to 17)
Go straight to the main plot? (go to 18)
Visit the brothel (go to 19)

17. No you don't. (go to 19)

18. You're not fooling anyone. (go to 19)

19. After a quick sidequest, you've got a very thankful and gorgeous blue alien girl ready to 'reward you for your services'. Are you:

Uninterested? (go to 20)
Already naked? (go to 21)

20. Amazingly, you get some very helpful information and a nice quest item. As an added bonus, you avoid inter-stellar chlamydia. Moseltov! Don't worry, there's an alien girl you can hook up with later who HASN'T slept with everything on the space station (including the cyber-dwarves, frog snobs, and half-elephants). Trust me, you don't want the details. (go to 24)

21. A wiser man may have wondered why they've never seen a male member of the blue alien race. Although the guide is vague, it's clear that there is only one gender of the blue alien race...and I think you can see where this is going. Although details are sketchy, apparently they are capable of MATING (not simply sex or screwing around, but full blown MATING), with BOTH men and women. She takes off her shirt, which is very nice, and then drops her pants. The theme from 'The Crying Game' plays in the background. Do you:

Run from the room, screaming? (go to 22)
Sleep with her anyway? (go to 23)

22. Your drinking buddies don't believe you, and frankly, neither do I. Have a few more beers and then tell us what really happened. (go to 23)

23. It's okay, we won't tell. Besides, you can know...not go near that part of her body. She's still really hot...and lord knows Kirk would do it! You decide that if Captain Kirk would sleep with a blue alien hermaphrodite, then it can't be gay. You get inter-stellar chlamydia, and then leave. (go to 24)

24. You've finally made it to the real substance of the story! Enough with these pointless plot points, characters and backstory, IT'S TIME FOR SIDEQUESTS!

(End Part 1)

Saturday, November 17, 2007

I'm wrapped up in work! Here's a story I've been writing that everyone seems to like. Enjoy!



I woke up tied to my computer chair, with my arms given just enough slack to allow typing. Lee was in my kitchen, making himself a sandwich. On the screen of my computer was the introduction that you're reading now, only with numerous spelling and grammatical errors throughout.

Lee whistled pleasantly to himself, as he spread honey-mustard onto a slice of bread with the side of his semi-automatic pistol. I know this, because it was already written on the screen in front of me, albeit without the dashes, and albeit was spelled wrong both times.

If the large, random pile of papers were any indication, Lee had kidnapped me (can you be kidnapped if you're still in your house?) in order to edit those random notes into some kind of coherent story.

"Yeah, that's the gist of it!"

Lee's voice carried through the house at exactly the same moment I read the words on the screen. Every time I read over the words again, Lee would call out the sentence at the exact same time. If I stopped reading halfway, he'd stop speaking.

There didn't seem to be any way around it.

Every now and then I'd have to use the bathroom, and my captor would politely untie me, and patiently await my return. Soon it became time for work, and after a long day of data entry, Lee would meet me at the door, and then tie me to the computer again. I'd sleep in my own bed (Lee crashed on the couch), but always woke up tied to the computer, never feeling any signs of struggle, or discomfort.

Well, except for that one time, when Lee got confused and accidentally tied himself to the computer chair instead. It took a while to get him out. I'm no good with knots.

I sometimes wonder why I didn't call the police, run away, or leave him tied up that one time. I don't know, Lee just seems to have a way of making things happen.

Is he a hero? Is he a villain? He's Lee. He's everything and nothing, only more so. Don't understand? Lee will be happy to explain it to you. In fact, he's already in your kitchen right now, making himself a sandwich.

You need more mustard.


With a freshly brewed cup of tea in hand, Lee eagerly sat at the computer in his living room, and began writing his novel.

Seeing is believing, therefore believing must also be equal to seeing. Faith is a synonym for belief, so that makes faith equal to seeing. The definition of faith is to believe in what you cannot see, which leads us to conclude, curiously enough, that believing in what you cannot see...

For no apparent reason, Lee intentionally dropped off the side of his chair. Less than a second later, bullets began raining through his windows. Lee quickly grabbed one of the automatic pistols taped to the bottom of his chair, and then fired blindly into the dark night.

The street below soon filled with the sounds of screams, and cars screeching to a halt. Lee waited a few moments, to confirm that his mysterious attackers had stopped firing, and then went back to typing. equal to seeing. Sight is therefore equal to not seeing, making the numerical value of sight equal to zero, as it's the only number that is equal to the negative version of itself. The further implications of...

Several windows simultaneously shattered, as buckshot tore through half of the room. Lee took a few hits himself, against the side of his abdomen. The wounds felt minor, but the pain was still horrible, and greatly interfered with his ability to find the shift key.

A second round was fired, and Lee grudgingly threw himself to the floor once again. It was there that he first caught sight of the devastation. The shotgun blasts had obliterated virtually everything Lee could see. Five jars, each completely filled with pennies, had all sprayed their contents across the room. No matter which way Lee looked, Lincoln's face was staring back at him, disapprovingly.

Lee’s unseen attacker fired another volley of pellets, this time against Lee's favorite Magritte painting, 'The Treachery of Images', tearing it to pieces. Lee chocked back tears. It had taken years to successfully switch the original painting for a phony, and it'd probably take several more for him to do it again! First, he'd have to revive Magritte, Frankenstein style, and then...

His train of thought was interrupted by a third shot, which did more damage than all the other shots combined. The attacker hit his lamp, the gun taped to the side of his high definition television set, his high definition television set, and even his lucky can of pineapple juice.

Lee's eyes widened in shock, as the can fell from the shelf, and onto the floor. It rolled over slightly, and began seeping juice directly into the carpet.

They had gone too far.

Lee pulled the second gun off the bottom of the chair, and fired randomly outside, in a mindless retaliation against the world in general. It was too dark to confirm whether or not he hit anything, but he vowed to keep firing until he either ran out of bullets, guns, or space in which to use those bullets and guns.

Bullets ran out first, and Lee panicked. Where were his last two guns?

"Damn it! Okay Lee, think logically. Did I leave them with my keys?"

A rain of pellets missed Lee by inches, and shattered his hundred gallon fish tank. One hundred gallons of fish filled water poured directly onto Lee’s pants.

"Did I leave them at work? Is Walter borrowing any? Did I...wait! I know!"

Lee grasped frantically for the Beretta taped to the small of his back, and tore it off.


Lee stepped dramatically towards the window, and randomly fired slug after slug directly across the street. Eventually, a sharp cry erupted, followed by a burst from a shotgun. The shot didn’t hit anywhere near Lee's apartment, and was followed by no more.

Lee continued firing.

When the Beretta ran out of bullets, Lee almost panicked again. Luckily, he managed to catch sight of his last gun, which he had ingeniously taped to the bottom of his shoe.

As Lee finished using up the last of his ammunition, the sound of sirens steadily approached. Time was running out. He had to write fast!

Lee clutched his wounded, bleeding side, and lurched back to his miraculously undamaged computer.

"Okay Lee, keep it together. Only two hundred pages to go..."

A loud, yet professional sounding man slammed his fist on Lee’s door, and demanded his surrender.

"Damn it. I need a new apartment."

Left with no other option, Lee was forced to use his secret escape route, using top secret escape plan Alpha-Zeta. Lee frantically unplugged his monitor, as the police kicked against the door. By the time they eventually smashed through, Lee was hurling the monitor through the only unbroken window in his apartment, the one facing the side alleyway. The police charged forward, but by the time they reached the window, Lee had already jumped.

Lee desperately lunged forward, like a cat, towards the fire escape of the building next to his. It was a full ten foot jump, which was a lot, considering that Lee didn't have a running start. Regardless, it was a risk Lee was willing to take. His only concern was whether or not that old, rusty fire escape was stable enough for a landing.

Lee’s fears were unfounded. Despite its rusty exterior, the fire escape was completely capable supporting Lee’s weight, and undoubtedly would have, had he not missed it by a full two feet.

Lee experienced the pleasant sensation of gravity pulling him downwards. Ironically, the guard railing that saved his life was far less pleasant. When Lee landed gut-first onto the fire escape, the next floor down, the police officers collectively winced, and then held their breath in anticipation.

Lee weakly crawled over the metal bar, and onto his knees. After seeing he was more or less fine, the officers broke into thunderous applause. Lee pulled himself to his feet, and then took a bow.

After a few seconds of confusion, the officers came back to their senses and drew their guns, but it was already too late. Lee had already slammed through an apartment window, and made his escape.


"This is Trisha Banks reporting live from the scene. A desperate shootout between two madmen has left dozens injured, and a neighborhood gripped in panic. Apparently, while situated ten floors up, the two men began a desperate shootout from across a busy street. The names of the men are still unknown, but the police have informed us that one of them was killed by the gunfire. The other attacker apparently fled the scene by making a desperate leap across an alleyway, from his window to the fire escape next door. Police are still searching for the man, but have yet to issue...wait! Sir!"


"Trisha Banks, channel seventeen..."

"Lee, the Discovery channel."


“Your turn.”

“Uh...did you see what happened?"

"All things. Fucker hit my painting."

"Please! Language! We're live."

"Oh, I'm so sorry! THE fucker hit my painting."


"I apologize for my grammar, but I've been shot."

Trisha eagerly motioned for the camera to get a shot of his injury. That was always ratings gold.

"Do you need medical assistance?"

"Can you tie a stitch?"


"Do you have any rubbing alcohol in your van?"


"Then no, you can’t."

"Did you catch any sight of your attackers?"

"SHIT! There was more than one?!"

"Please sir, I know you're in pain..."

"I want none of this grammar Nazi crap!"


"That was a perfectly legitimate interjection! I...I'm sorry, it's this gunshot wound. It's making me grumpy."

"Can you give us a description of the surviving attacker?"

"I'm pretty sure they're all dead. They did stop shooting, after all. My God, the carnage was terrible."

Trisha leaned in close, eager to hear the details of the assault.

"No matter where you looked, it was nothing but juice, broken glass, dead fish, and pictures of Lincoln! It was hell on Earth, make no mistake about it."

Trisha took a moment to collect her thoughts and regain her composure. The cameraman made a cut-throat motion, but Trisha shook her head. She hadn't given up yet.

"Police confirmed that one of the attackers got away. Apparently he leaped out of that window..."

"Oh yeah! You should have seen that jump! It was awesome!"

"Can you describe the man?"

"Sure! He's five foot eleven, one hundred and eighty pounds, blood type A, black haired, heavily scarred, ambidextrous, and has these awesome mutton chops."

Lee motioned towards his own mutton chops as he spoke. Trisha silently reviewed the details of the description, as her cameraman focused upon Lee's face, beard and scars. Trisha ignored the cameraman's desperate motions, and continued,

"Is there anything else you'd like to add?"

"Do you know anyone who needs a roommate?”



Lee has assured me that everything you are about to read is true, with the added caveat that reality itself might be fictional.

Lee is not responsible for any of the consequences that arrive from reading this novel, including: paper cuts, unsettling ideas, mediocre movie adaptations, lucid dreams, bad online fanfics, or injuries resulting from any attempt to recreate a stunt from the story, which Lee assures me were all performed by trained professionals.

Lee has also informed me that he's not responsible for the consequences of any of his own actions, both in real life and in the novel, but has yet to explain why.

In response to my questioning, Lee decreed that I, the editor, am responsible for all the consequences of his actions instead. Despite my best efforts, I have yet to prove him wrong.

Lee has, however, admitted that he is completely at fault for not having an awesome car. Luckily, that was a problem he could fix.

Saturday, November 03, 2007

Life is like a pineapple.

Please bear with me.

Wait, you're not bearing with me! Damn it! I can see the arrow going to the google bar. What are you typing...DAVE BARRY?! DAMN IT!

Anyway, for those of you still here, who either don't have a google bar, or are just too lazy to type out 'Dave Barry', I shall explain.

Life is like a pineapple because Pat says it is. You see, last Saturday, my cousin's husband Pat (if you increased my IQ by twenty points, and gave him his own blog, we'd more or less be the same person) and I got into a lengthy argument about human nature, good and evil, and other things that bore the living daylights out of the rest of my family. To get their attention back, Pat challenged me to write how life, and human existence, are like a pineapple.

Why the hell not?

Let's start step by step.

DOCTOR: "Congratulations Mrs. Johnson, it's a pineapple!"

MRS. JOHNSON: "Wow, that explains a lot."

DOCTOR: "Yeah, you really should've gone with the c-section."

Eww...Pat, this isn't going the way I'd hoped. Let's skip ahead.

BULLY: "Hey new kid! Give me your lunch money!"


BULLY: "Oh yeah?!"


BULLY: "Damn it!"

Okay...let's skip ahead to the big game.

QUARTERBACK: "Alright pineapple, I'm going to hand you the ball, and then I'm going to block for you, so you can run it in. Ready?




Yeah, that's pretty much how I remember football going. Let's move ahead again.

DEAN: "Congratulations young man! Here's your doctorate in medicine!"


DEAN: "Is this really him? Or did some wise guy just leave a pineapple here?"

On to marriage...

PRIEST: "Do you Miss Davis, take this pineapple, to be your lawfully wedded...Max, this is just a pineapple."

MAX: "I know, but just go along with it!"


Vegas it is then!

ELVIS IMPERSONATOR: "So do yew, Muss Davus, take this pineapple to be yer evalovin hubby?"



Okay, what have we forgotten...

DOCTOR: "Congratulations Mrs. Johnson...and by Mrs. Johnson I mean the pineapple's wife, not his mother again..."

MRS. JOHNSON: "Thanks for clearing that up."

DOCTOR: "No's a pineapple!"

MRS. JOHNSON: "Oh she's adorable! Look honey, she has your...uh...just like...uh...well, she's also a pineapple."

Wow, deja vu. Of course, no life would be complete without a Mexican standoff.

EVIL EUROPEAN GUY FROM DIE HARD: "Give me the microfilm, pineapple, or your daughter dies!"


HE ALSO PLAYED SNAPE: "Don't even think about tossing it to your evil twin either, or else your daughter is fruit salad!"



SERIOUSLY HE'S AWESOME: "Very well! Then it's time for your daughter to..."




DOGMA WAS UNDERRATED: "You traitor! You're not evil at all! You...wait, how are pineapples firing..."



What an ending! Wow, and here I thought the evil pineapple was evil, but it turns out he was nice all along! Wow, I can't wait to see that one again. Well, that's every part of life that doesn't suck. I hope this fully explains to you how life is like a pineapple.

That's right, it isn't. Life isn't anything like a pineapple. That's why life is like a pineapple.

Now that I've made Pat's brain explode, let me explain. Life isn't anything like life.

Go ahead, try to think about life for a moment, you start with a happy child. Wait, that child is often sad, but if you say he's sad, you're ignoring the times when he's happy.

Life is a roller coaster ride, you say? I think anyone that's ever sat through an algebra class would have to disagree with you. It's boring then? Ever get caught in a bold faced lie, and then everyone stares at you, and waits for your explanation? Ever have your boss ask what 'exactly' you do for the company? Ever slip while walking down stairs? No, it's not boring.

People are basically good? No. People are basically bad? Not really. People aren't basically good or bad? Not exactly.

If I said that life was inconsistent, then I'd be ignoring the consistency of science, weather, and daily life.

The people shouting 'everything is changing' is almost completely drowned out by the people shouting 'nothing changes'.

Life is depressing only when it's not thrilling! Life can be bad, but only when it isn't fantastic! Death can be a good thing, but only when you ignore the 5 million reasons it's a bad thing! Life is filled with loneliness, except for all the times you're with loved ones! Night is day! Black is white!


Okay Max, step back from the insanity. What do you think pineapple?


MAX: "Dot dot dot? Yeah, I guess that says it all. Life is as much like a pineapple as it is anything else. When you can use contradicting words to describe something, chances are it's simply indescribable. There's no point wrecking your brain over it. You might as well type three dots, shrug and just move on with your life. Come on pineapple, want to get something to eat?"


MAX: "Yeah, that sounds..."

ALAN RICKMAN: "I don't think so!"

MAX: "You! You're supposed to be dead!"

ALAN RICKMAN: "Time to die, Mr. 'Did I Mention I Got Published in Mississippi Crow'!

MAX: "Hitchhiker's Guide should have been funnier."




Pineapple! You saved me! How can I...pineapple? PINEAPPLE?!


Saturday, October 20, 2007

One Week Since I Pimped My Published Story

Wow, the time does fly! It seems like only yesterday that I was shamelessly promoting myself. Ah...the memories.

Issue number five! 'How to Cook Roast Dragon'! Shameless!

Here's the story:

How to Cook Roast Dragon can still buy it though. There's like, other neat stuff in...damn it, I keep accidentally giving away everything for free. What would Machiavelli say? It'd be in Italian for starters. Anyone know Italian? That'd be awkward.

Anyway, let's move on to bigger and better things, such as the subtle art of not losing your pants. Let me set up the scene for you:

I'm having a nice time chatting and drinking coffee with a group of people I recently met, some of whom are women. Eventually, after shamelessly promoting my published story, it was time to leave.

As I stood from my chair, I felt a strange, invisible force pulling my pants directly downwards. I'm serious.

It felt exactly like an invisible man was forcibly pulling my jeans towards my ankles. In reality, my pants probably got stuck to the chair I was sitting in, although I can't see how. I'm still thinking it was some invisible guy. I'm looking at you Christian.

Anyway, no matter how hard I pull up, they were being pulled down just as quickly. Not difficult enough? Not three feet from me was an underage, teenage girl.

Do these kinds of things happen to normal people? Did Abraham Lincoln ever have an invisible force yank down his pants in the middle of a speech? Franklin, certainly, but Lincoln?

I think not. At least nowhere as frequently. I just seem to be a natural magnet for 'Abbot and Costello'-like disasters. Just ask Amber (Wandering Knitter), she'll tell you.

Don't get me wrong, there is an upside to this. You may scoff, but at one point in your life, I'm betting you're going to be stuck in the middle of a sitcom-like catastrophe. You laugh now, but when you have to host a bachelor party and a knitting club in the same building, are you going to be ready?

When the health inspector arrives in the middle of food fight, are you going to know what to say?

When you get trapped in an elevator with your worst enemy, are going to be able to work out your differences without getting 'last season of Mash' serious?

When John Ritter drops dead on camera, are you going to deliver the punch line?!

No! I don't think so! I think you're going to crack. You'll blissfully coast through life, right up until you rent a pony for your daughter's birthday, and your neighbor's dog chases it out into the street, but you don't realize for a half hour, and by the time you find it, it's already wandered into a Walmart, with your daughter still on its back. Oh, and who's that next to them? Why it's your nosy neighbor, shopping with her good friend from out of town, the pope.

Now me, I'm used to shit like that. Take that moment, where an invisible adversary was yanking down my pants in full view of twelve adults, and two underage girls. How would you avoid going to jail? What do you do?

Why, you sit right back down, of course. No, don't struggle with it, that'll only make it worse. Just sit right back down, and look very interested in what everyone's saying. Now, subtly move your hands down and tug frantically at your pants. Figure out where you're stuck. Don't leave until it's free.

There you go! Your pants are free, and you didn't humiliate yourself, or go to jail! Aren't you happy that weird crap like this happens to you on a weekly basis? I sure am. It means I'll always be prepared.

Oh sure, laugh it off. When your evil, identical cousin shows up, I'll be the one laughing! ^_^

Saturday, October 13, 2007


Published piece fires three spinning 'ego-booster-bombs' that roll across the ground and explode upon striking an enemy.


SECRET: When fighting Mitch, if you fire 'published piece' at him and press start just when the first bomb hits, he gets a headache and leaves to get a beer from the fridge. When he asks 'do you want one?' select 'yes'.

Then go forward one screen and gun down Dr. Wiley like a dog in the street.

These late 80's video game references doing anything for you?


Yes, I know I already mentioned it last week, but my pessimistic nature refused to declare it a certainty until I saw the proof. Besides, they're using the FULL VERSION! HOO-HAA! I think Pat will be pleasantly surprised by the picture of Chev Ivins. ^_^

In a few weeks the issue will go on sale, and just to begin the shameless self-pimpage, it's issue #5 of Mississippi Crow, an independent literary magazine, which is very reasonably priced considering the wonderful artwork and content (I mean, my piece is in it, so you know its gotta be great).

You can get the issue at:

Now, I know you're asking yourself, where did they even see Max? Did Max hunt them down on a tropical island, one by one cornering them on rocky cliffs, and forcing them to read a short story that he feel would be perfect for their publication?

Believe it or not, that plan didn't work out nearly as well as anticipated. Actually, they saw me at the writing web site I'm a part of. It's a great site for showing around your work, and it's free if you don't want the extra features. You can read my stuff at:

With that, I'm calling it an early week. Work's been busy. If you want more, just check out the stuff above. If you want to sleep anytime soon, I'd avoid 'Apple Core'. I kinda went a bit overboard (intentionally of course) in honor of Halloween.

Take care everyone, and always, thanks for reading!

Saturday, October 06, 2007


We're going to go through a simple point versus point style match, and we'll count them up at the end. For those of you just tuning in, my battle against the internet is in sudden death mode (ME: 4, INTERNET: 4, Draw: 1) and for the finale, Second Life is being matched against my 'actual life'. Let's do this!

SECOND LIFE: Requires computer.

REAL LIFE: Requires computer.





SECOND LIFE: Choose your name.

REAL LIFE: I didn't get to choose my name...but my middle name is Max. Awesome.


SECOND LIFE: Basic tutorial takes 30 minutes.

REAL LIFE: Basic tutorial takes 13 years.


SECOND LIFE: "Someone know hot make box screen?"

REAL LIFE: "I'm looking for a book. It has a brown cover, and chapter one is about a guy driving a truck. Which book is that?"


SECOND LIFE: Shut people up with the click of a button.

REAL LIFE: Actually have to leave.


SECOND LIFE: Requires Quicktime.

REAL LIFE: Requires Windows Media Player.


SECOND LIFE: Boring free videos.

REAL LIFE: Mostly boring free television.


SECOND LIFE: Walk like a jerk.

REAL LIFE: Up to you.


SECOND LIFE: Free chain mail shirt.

REAL LIFE: Where the hell's my free chain mail shirt?


SECOND LIFE: Lift up and fly into the air on a whim.

REAL LIFE: Go to the airport, spend forever going through security, get cramped into seat meant for someone roughly 1/2 your size, sit next to a screaming baby, and watch your free Adam Sandler movie.


SECOND LIFE: No drowning.

REAL LIFE: Drowning. Man, that sucks.


SECOND LIFE: What the...I can't put down my arm. Now I'm just waving it around randomly while everyone stares.

REAL LIFE: Rarely happens.


SECOND LIFE: Change day to night with a click.

REAL LIFE: Have to wait for up to twelve hours.


SECOND LIFE: Randomly accosted by virtual pimp.

REAL LIFE: Rarely accosted by real pimp.


SECOND LIFE: Pretend sex.

REAL LIFE: Real sex.


SECOND LIFE: Slow loading times, and buggy animation.

REAL LIFE: Fully realistic, real time animation.


SECOND LIFE: People hilariously plummet from the sky.

REAL LIFE: Rarely happens. Not so hilarious when it does.


SECOND LIFE: Go anywhere with a click.

REAL LIFE: Has places actually worth going.


SECOND LIFE: Free orgy room.

REAL LIFE: None that I know of.


SECOND LIFE: Sailor Moon themed islands.

REAL LIFE: None. Thank god.


SECOND LIFE: People randomly hang themselves.

REAL LIFE: Not so often, and never more than once each.


SECOND LIFE: Run over small animals with your car! Ha!

REAL LIFE: Hilarious!


SECOND LIFE: Not allowed to have fun crashing cars.

REAL LIFE: Crashing cars not fun.


SECOND LIFE: Walk straight through branches.



SECOND LIFE: Somewhat buggy. Get perpetually stuck in place and walk up walls.

REAL LIFE: Hey, I want to walk up walls!


SECOND LIFE: People openly furries.

REAL LIFE: People secretly furries.


SECOND LIFE: No sense of touch or smell.

REAL LIFE: Pain and garbage.


SECOND LIFE: Buy virtual goods and pretend you have them.

REAL LIFE: Buy real goods and actually have them.


SECOND LIFE: Mall has no snacks, munchies, slurpies, frosties or real teenage girls.

REAL LIFE: Has all that, but you're not supposed to look at the teenage girls.


SECOND LIFE: Fire doesn't affect you.



SECOND LIFE: No one does anything but obsess on sex and fictional characters.

REAL LIFE: You can see where I'm going with this.


SECOND LIFE: While minding your own business, turn around to find that a giant, seven foot replica of Rosie the Robot, from the Jetsons, is towering over you, with giant metal mincers, a horrifyingly mishapen head, and a greyish-flesh tone body.

REAL LIFE: Run screaming from the room and hide under bed, secure with the knowledge that you've never brought a Frankensteinesque pop culture reference into the world.


That's it. It's time to tally up. Drum roll, please.







Imaginary sound effects!




I won.

I won?

I WON!!!!!!!!!!!! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!


YES! The epic journey is over! Odysseus can finally come home, kill some suitors and sleep with his wife! After the good portion of the year, my battle against the over-hyped, porn spewing, ad-machine is over!



Yes, the internet wins.

I got more points, defeated it in glorious combat, and it still wins.


The internet owns me.

It occurred to me, about halfway through the competition, that I probably should have a final round where I see how long I can go without using the internet...and I can't do it. Even if I only used it for work, I still need the internet for everything now, and it's accessible on virtually every computer on the planet! Limitless information and entertainment is merely one click away!

E-mail! Messaging! Ebay! Meeting people! Game groups! Blogs! Online stores! Wikipedia (remember having to go to the library?)! Cartoons! Porn...which I've heard other people quite enjoy! Research! Google! I-tunes! Free videogames! News! Immediate feedback! Free useful computer tool programs! Coupons! Movie reviews! Free TV shows! Netflix! Youtube!


Sigh...I can beat it in a competition, prove it's overrated and silly, but I can't deny that it's the most important invention since the computer itself.

Besides, thanks to the internet, and (screenname 'Blompkin'), I'm actually getting published next month in an independent magazine!

Specifically, 'How to Cook Roast Dragon' is getting published in 'Mississippi Crow' (issue 5), which will soon be available at!

Yes, I put up a good fight, but I feel like an eight year old who finally beat his seventeen year old brother in chess. Sure, I won, but he can still push me over on a whim, and I need him to drive me to the mall later.

In fact, I'm just going to say it: THE INTERNET RULES! It's most websites that suck!

Just not this one. ^_^

Saturday, September 15, 2007


The last challenge, the one that will decide the ultimate conflict between man and machine...well, between geek and network at least...will be done in the internet's solution for a sci-fi 'Snow-crashesque' internet world: Second Life.

Over the course of the week, I'm going to be going into second life and then comparing it to similar tasks/events in first life, and by first life, I mean the real world. Admittedly, the internet is very useful, but it's been touted as nothing less than its own world.

I say that world sucks. You can't touch anything, it gets really slow for no reason, it's filled with really stupid people, and anything you buy is either a picture, sound, or something you're not going to receive for two weeks.

So...this might be kind of a short post, as it's going to be done over the course of a week. To tide you over, here's a silly story I wrote. I hope you like it:

Vince, the Stone with the Sword

It all started when that knight stabbed me.

Seriously, what the hell?

Did I ever do anything to him? No!

Did I insult him, or deal him personal injury? Of course not!

In fact, up to that point, I had not hurt as much as a flea, steal as much as a piece of copper, or said a single word against anyone.

Granted, I was a rock, but that’s no reason to run up and stick a sword in me! I mean, I didn’t even understand the concept of pain until that magic blade nearly split me in two! Why couldn’t he just drop it on the ground? It wasn’t as if he was going to miss and lose the damn thing!

That was Vince’s side of the story anyway. The bards and scribes that chronicle the adventures, fates and (inevitable) tragic deaths of heroes, painted a more poetic picture. In their version (which will hereafter be referred to as ‘the truth’), they dramatically describe the ancient Lord Brunswager (Broons-wag-er) the 1st’s battle with the Uberkelwinskisaurus (half dragon, half something that definitely wasn’t a dragon) where the Lord received the fatal blow that would claim his life.

The Lord fought bravely, landing blow after blow, all while deftly avoiding the beast’s horns, claws, beak, tentacles, hooves, tail, fangs, tongue and enormous eyelids.

Sadly, despite the telling blow that Lord Brunswager landed on the creature's exposed brain, he didn’t see its left eyelid coming, and it landed a crushing blink that nearly snapped the brave knight in two.

Up to that point, reality and Vince’s version of the story coincide fairly closely, except Vince claims that the Uberkelwinskisaurus was guarding an incredibly attractive and top heavy piece of limestone in distress.

Going back to the actual events, as the monster recoiled back into its cave to slowly die from its wounds, the triumphant Lord Brunswager found he could do little more than raise his mighty magic blade and cry out, in anguish…well, the scholars disagree on what Lord Brunswager’s last words actually were, before he stabbed the sword into the stone.

Most conservative scholars agree that Lord Brunswager said,
“My blood alone shall wield this sword!”

Some recent historians claim he actually said,
“This sword shall lead my people to their salvation!”

And according to Vince, he said,
“Die you stupid rock!”

“So in absolutely no time at all, say…five hundred years or so, the magic leaked completely from the sword into my strapping granite body, and suddenly I’m…what’s the word that means 'able to think'. Thinkable? I want to say…sextant? I’m sextant? Donna, what’s that word?”

Donna was a rather large piece of shale, and of course had nothing to say. That didn’t stop Vince though, who went on with his tirade,

“So it is sextant? Good, I was beginning to worry that I was beginning to lose it. Anyway, I was completely ready to offer the knight a place to sit, where he could tend his wounds, but noooooooooooooo! He had to be the big shot! He had to pick on the defenseless inanimate object! You agree with me, don’t you Phil?”

Phil, a small piece of basalt, had nothing to add to the conversation. He just kind of sat there, inanimate. Vince took that as a yes.

“Exactly my point! I mean, the knight 'probably' had a good reason for running me through like that, but what about my needs? Don’t I have a say, or am I just supposed to lie down and roll over any time a dying hero shows up with an ancient artifact?”

None of the rocks surrounding Vince disagreed with him.

“Exactly! It’s all you can do to keep people from tugging on this thing…”

Vince extended a rocky limb up to the hilt of the magic sword that penetrated his head. He used his other arm to pull himself up a bit, giving him a better view of his surroundings, in order to make sure that their secret meeting was not being spied upon. After being completely satisfied that they were alone, Vince opened his mouth and continued,

“…or keep thieves from trying to hammer and chisel it out. I have to say, if it weren’t for all those pencil heads declaring me a national monument, I never would have made it through those first few centuries…I was young back then…young and foolish.”

In fact, Vince didn’t have any thoughts at all until about five hundred years after receiving the sword.

His first thought was: ouch.

He repeated that thought for a short period of time…a decade or two, until he composed himself and realized that he was indeed a he, that he thought therefore he was, then ouch again, that he somehow understood the language of those around him, that there was a difference between right and wrong, ouch once more, and then he ended with the realization that the large piece of quartz across the field was totally making eyes with him.

All other thoughts that Vince has ever had since then, have been more or less irrelevant.

“What do you think, Barbara?”

Barbara, the piece of quartz in question, just sat off to the side, coyly. Vince inched a bit closer to her (as a rule, any rock that Vince round attractive was female),

“Oh come on Barbara, you can talk to me. You know as well as anyone how unfairly I’ve been treated! This thinking business has really been getting on my nerves. The last wizard that came around to look at me actually tried to teach me to read. I just drew myself up and shouted, ‘I’LL TEACH YOU TO READ!’

Yeah, that showed him. What do you think, Gabrielle?”

Gabrielle, with her dark and smooth features, remained expressionless and distant (about 35 feet away). Their brief love affair had left her a bit cold towards Vince, at least as far as he was concerned.

“Fine, be that way!”

Vince sighed, which wasn’t easy for a stone, and made a few small hops towards the center of the gathering.

“Well, it’s been really nice talking to you guys, but I’ve got to head off and see how my friends on the other side of the lake or doing. Who knows, maybe that descendant of that evil knight will finally come around to claim…”

A young man peered out of a bush, to get a better view of the bizarre scene. Vince noticed him immediately, and took note of the young man’s great height, strong chin, blue eyes, blond hair and muscular physique. The young man had what was easily recognizable as all the trappings of a hero that had arrived to claim what was rightfully his.

Vince knew exactly what to do.

He threw Phil at him.

The young man dodged and ran off in a blind panic towards the lake, where he nearly tripped over Hubert and struck his head upon Shelly. Vince hopped over to retrieve Phil, and then carefully placed him alongside his other friends. Vince ,the rock, then gave him a thumbs up and announced,

“Me and my buddy Phil, are a mean team.”

Vince then happily hopped away towards the lake, leaving his friends behind (but not before stopping to give Barbara a small kiss upon her cleavage). Perhaps he’d go for a swim, and say hello to all his friends at the lake bottom.

In this way, Vince passed the days, and didn’t seem the slightest bit disturbed that the other rocks didn’t share his intelligence…

Actually, to speak the truth, the rock the Uberkelwinskisaurus died upon received some of the beast’s magical aura, bestowing upon it a measure of intelligence and sentience.

It wasn’t enough to allow him to move, but it was enough to allow him to realize that he probably has it better than most other rocks, and that Vince was a complete lunatic.

Vince calls him Patsy.

Saturday, September 08, 2007


I forgot to mention, before leaving the Quincy Market, I fell down again, this time down a very short flight of stairs.

I went back to get evidence of their steepness and/or disrepair, but found them to be perfectly normal, which made it kind of hard to justify falling down them...especially after running into that poor woman.

It's okay, she was very nice and understanding. You see, there were two steps between the ground and the building, and at a glance, I thought there was only one. My first step landed halfway between two steps, vaulting me forwards, into that poor nice lady. Man, I wasn't even drunk.

I drank more caffeine, just to be sure, and checked out Paul Revere's house. There was a huge line, and he never completed that famous ride anyway, so I decided to skip it.

In case I've never mentioned it, Paul Revere started the ride with two other men, Prescott and Dawes. Shortly after starting, they were intercepted by British troops, who called for their surrender.

Paul Revere surrendered.


Prescott and Dawes rode on, braving the possible hail of bullets, and completed the famous ride that surrender monkey Revere gets credit for. Why does Revere get all that undeserved praise? The poem only mentioned him, and the poem got famous. Either the poet liked him more, or as Amber says, Revere just sounds better in a poem than Prescott or Dawes.

Afterwards I ran into Boston's massive Italian district. You know, I expected a large visible Irish presence (there wasn't), but it was the Italians that worked the hardest at making their presence known, with a very large number of Italian restaurants (I wonder if they still had clam chowder? I'm pretty sure it's mandatory, by Boston law).

A neat, spooky old graveyard was the next stop, and it was there I found one of the most interesting pieces of history I've ever discovered...but I'll wait to tell you about that another time. I want to properly give it justice (also, I left my notes on it at home, so I don't remember the details). Let's just say: it's awesomely spooky.

Before long I was tracing the harbor, passing strange abandoned buildings, all with the signs 'government property' on them. I don't know why the government is calling dibs on Silent Hill locations, but that's their deal. I got lost amongst those weird buildings (and kept an eye out for guys in pyramid shaped hats) and...I FOUND ONE!

The navy!

It was the U.S.S. Constitution, in all its glory!


So I wasted no time, and marched right into a Starbucks.

What? It was like 9 billion degrees! I was nearly melting onto the pavement, and only non-stop liquid refreshment from the best corporate coffee retailer kept me from perishing right there on the sidewalk.

The U.S.S. Constitution (or Old Ironsides as it's often called) is a perfectly restored 1800's era ship, that was used to fight the British in the war of 1812, and remains in perfect condition to this day. Of course, now it's permanently harbored in Boston as a floating museum, its Limey killing days far behind it.

Old Ironsides never lost a single battle, never retreated, and got its nickname when a cannonball struck its wooden side dead on...and bounced off, harmlessly. DAMNNNNNN.

Of course, to get to the ship I had to go through a security checkpoint that had all the trimmings. The female navy officer made me dump everything I had into a tray that went through an x-ray machine, while I stepped through a metal detector.

She even asked me to take off my belt, which if you're a guy, is always nice to hear from a woman.

The ship was absolutely amazing, as was the nice, cold beverage at their snack stand afterwards. With that, I was beat. I took a look at the WW2 warship they had next door, but I was too tired to go inside.

That was it, I was spent. It was time for dinner.

And what an unbelievably mediocre dinner it was! Granted, it started with an absolutely wonderful bowl of Clam Chowder, served by a procession of gorgeous waitresses, each wearing a low cut, short black dress, but the 'Shepard's Pie' was absolutely pathetic. I forget the name of the place, but it was a short name, only a few letters long. The people inside seemed to be enjoying themselves, but I can't see why (unless they didn't order entrees).

Imagine this: hamburger, taken directly from the package, minced and cooked with no sauce. Add chopped up generic veggies. Do not season it in any way. Overcook it a little. Throw it into a bowl. Toss generic mashed potatoes on it. Melt on a little cheese. Presto. Crap.

I am not exaggerating when I say they did not flavor it in any way. No sauce, no gravy, and no spices. Christ, I would have settled for salt and pepper at that point.

Still, I was on vacation, and in no mood to fuss. I took two bites, paid the bill, walked across the street, sat in another restaurant, and ordered dinner.

Hot Pots (or something to that effect), was a wonderful Thai restaurant (no clam chowder though). I ordered the duck soup with sticky rice, and this was some of the stickiest rice I've ever had. I almost needed a chisel (it's a good thing). The soup itself was immense in proportion, and had a mini-lantern below it (the kind used for indoor smores), which kept it warm. Despite the several small pieces of bone I had to be on the look out for, it was delicious, a cross between tender duck and sweet, onion soup.

It was then that I came upon my theory for Boston:

The restaurants in Boston can either have good Clam Chowder, or good entrees, but not both. The theory was proven on Sunday, when I ate the last meal of the trip at the wonderful legendary Union Oyster House, where I was treated to a Samuel Adams beer (mediocre, but surprisingly alcoholic), two magnificent Crab Cakes, and a mediocre bowl of clam chowder.

True, it was still the fourth best bowl I've ever eaten, but I was shocked that a restaurant famous for their fantastic seafood would serve up a mediocre bowl of Boston's most legendary dish. It's either one or the other, and frankly, I far preferred the crab cakes. Boston can take it's Shepard pie and shove it.

Well, that was about it. Boston. Wow. It's like a city they made before they knew what cities were supposed to be. At no point was it completely revised or reconstructed. It just started as a small port city, and as the years passed, they just added more and more.

Churches, colleges, wars, politics, businesses, tourists, cartoon aliens and soup.

Boston, I salute you.

Just enough with the Red Sox already. I'm sick of it. Which reminds me of my favorite conversation overheard during the trip, at the Oyster House:

GUY 1: "I love the Red Sox! We should make a band completely based on the Red Sox!

GUY 2: "Well, I really like fruit punch. Are we going to make a band about that too?"

Guy number two, I salute you...for keeping it all in perspective.

Friday, August 31, 2007


I don't know why my blog randomly sinks a few pages down (just to annoy me it seems to have stopped for now), but I'm too distracted by this article I read on videogame movies to care. It lists the 5 worst videogame movies ever as:

1. Super Mario Brothers (yes)

2. Doom (alright)

3. Street Fighter (very yes)

4. House of the Dead (Uwe Boll should die...just as a career move)

5. Resident Evil: Apocalypse (I can think of three worse video game movies)

Yeah, they're probably right, but enough of the 5 worst video game movies, let's list the 5 best!

1. The original Mortal Kombat. It's actually a very good action movie that stays fairly true to the original plot. One of the reasons it's great, and Street Fighter isn't, is that it actually stars talented martial artists (most of whom go on to star in the hilariously over the top TV series 'WMAC Masters'. Jonny Cage also adds some much needed laughs, and his fight scene with Scorpion is the best in the movie.

2. The first Resident Evil. It's honestly scary, it stays fairly true to the plot, the main female character is hawwwwwwwt, and the red queen is as creepy and vicious as little girls truely are. A must have (ever since it went to the bargain bin).

3. Silent Hill. Anyone who says otherwise is a massive tool. This movie was visually amazing, genuinely creepy, again fairly faithful to the plot, and has more memorable scenes then the entire Friday the 13th series put together. Yes, the ending was kind of weak, but they were trying to simultaneously please the foriegn fans of the film, who liked its spooky, existential atmosphere. The best true 'ghost story' that's come out in years.

4. Project Snake. The Metal Gear movie. What? You've never heard of a Metal Gear movie? That's because it was made by X-Strike Studios, an independent movie studio comprised of 20something actors who create hilarious and surprisingly well made spoofs of videogames into movies. All their stuff is really good, but Project Snake is definitely the best of them. Other movies include River City Rumble (based on River City Ransom), Silent Horror (based on Silent Hill), and Nth Mile: The Parrappa the Rappa story (I kid you not). I hate going on a rant, but I've always loved them. They're at

5. Final Fantasy: Advent Children. I'm not sure how 'Spirits Within' didn't make the worst videogame movie list, but Advent Children is a gift from the gaming Gods to videogame fans everywhere. Not only is it an exciting, wonderful movie, but it also gives the series closure, and lets us say a final farewell to one of gaming's most beloved characters. No, not Sephiroth. No, not Cloud. No, not the child that Sephiroth and Cloud had in your fanfic...Aeris! For God's sake...

Oh, and why isn't Mortal Kombat: Annihilation on that list? That powerfully sucked. They change 2/3 of the cast, kill Johnny Cage in the first 5 minutes, and the only good stunts are done by Liu Kang's stuntman, Tony Jaa (from Ong Bak).

Double Dragon was also worse than Resident Evil: Apocalypse. I didn't even see Resident Evil: Apocalypse and I can say that Double Dragon was worse. It wasn't worse than Street Fighter or Mortal Kombat 2, but lord was it bad.


Back to Boston. Saturday morning I woke up and took a shower. Nothing much to speak of there. The city was still fairly empty, which was fine by me.

I stopped by a local hole in the wall breakfast joint, and was treated to the best hash browns I've ever eaten. They FRIED them. Yum! I even took a picture of them for posterity.

Today I would walk the historic freedom trail, a long line of historical landmarks through the city. First stop was the Boston Common, which was a literal smorgisborg of homeless people. Luckily most of them were still asleep (I assume the Common is a popular crashing place), and after watching a particularly brave squirrel encroach upon the 'birds' turf, I found the most generic monument ever. It was a large gazebo dedicated to the city in general, for no particular reason. That's it. It was sad.

The NEXT monument was far from sad. Thirty foot tall pillar with a soldier on top, and angels surrounding the base, dedicated to the men who died in the civil war. Now THAT'S a monument!

The first stop on the historic trail was Starbucks. It was really fricking hot, and I needed a frappacino really bad. The second stop was an old church where generic historic things happened, the most interesting one being when the construction of the subway almost killed the head minister, when a pipe burst and buried his study in a tidal wave of mud. His sermon the next week was on the EVILS of the subway.

The second stop was a few boring cemetaries. A little girl passed me, asking why they were looking at a cemetary when they never heard of any of the people buried there. She had a point.

The third stop was the John Hancock building (snicker), but I wasn't allowed in, I was only allowed to look at it as I passed by the General Hooker entrance (double snicker). I remember the large statue of the General sitting proudly on his horse, with the word printed below him, in giant letters: HOOKER (oh come on, even the guys back in 1776 had to be snickering!)

The fourth stop was another Starbucks. Did I mention it was hot?

The fifth stop was an old statehouse where men in suits slammed their fists down hard and shouted 'HARUMPH'. They had this neat diorama of the city of Boston, and if you pressed a button marked a certain event, it'd light up the spot where the event happened. Oh, for a little Godzilla figure.

There was a neat display about the radical left wing political types that were as whiny and annoying two hundred years ago as they are today. There was also a very nice and poignant quote by an African American speaker who asked 'Is what Britian did to you even a hundreth as bad as what you've done to my people?'

I imagine there were a lot of uncomfortable coughs and whistles in that room.

The sixth stop (there were more places in the trail, these are just the places I stopped) was a museum dedicated to the Boston Massacre. Apparently a lot of drunk guys started hooting, hollering and throwing garbage at some British soldiers, and in response the soldiers mowed them down with gunfire (I think the British were getting warmed up for Ireland).

I saw an original copy of the famous flier depicting the event, and a few weapons marked as early American muskets, which a friendly teacher who happened to also be on the tour, informed me weren't accurate. Apparently those were actually mainly used by the British, and were the main reason they lost the war. They used short muskets that could hit things 50 feet away. We used muskets that could hit things 100 feet away, from around trees, and our enemies were even color coded bright red for our convenience (Britian always seems to be preparing to fight the last the beginning of World War I, they had the best horse calvary in the world...which went about as well as you imagine).

Quincy market was next, and it was there I ate the best bowl of Clam Chowder in all of Boston. It's at a small place called 'The Oyster Bar'. To be honest, the soup at the Whiskey Tavern was probably a bit better, but at the Oyster Bar, you get it in a sourdough bread bowl. Beyond any measure of yummness. Off the chart.

I saw Cheers. Not much to mention except that they re-created the main bar area. It was also at a gift shop around there that I found the perfect gift for Heather: an item that represents the heart and soul of all Boston...

A teddy bear dressed in a lobster outfit.

It doesn't get more real then that.

Seventh stop was a Starbucks.


Wow, a lot happened on Saturday, so I think I'll leave the rest for next time. Nothing happened on Sunday though (except I came close to missing my train home...stupid late subway trains), so next time will be the rest!


Saturday, August 25, 2007

There's Actually a Fair Bit of Ocean Between Boston and St. John's

The train trip up to Boston included the worst Dunkin Doughnuts Coolata I've ever tasted (burnt, spoiled and over-sweetened), and a neverending gaggle of loud, merciless children.

Luckily, the kids didn't have the willpower or determination to keep the racket up long, and for the most part it was a nice train ride, coupled with an interesting conversation about the civil war with a man who barely spoke English. It was almost two bucks for a can of soda though. Lame. I brought my own for the return trip.

The most startling discovery of the train trip was that George gets his ear blown off by Snape.

The second most startling discovery of the train trip home was that Trenton, New Jersey, was not the worst city I passed. Nope, it was Providence, Rhode Island. The place looked like a war zone, after the battle was over. There was debri and graffitti everywhere, but no gangs. They ran out of stuff to do. The blasted out landscape reminded me of the ancient nation of Crete, that didn't exactly fall as much as everyone got bored and left. Any invaders found there was nothing there worth having, let alone worth taking. Sad.

Anyway, Amber's words of 'that suitcase is kind of heavy' quickly began to haunt me as I dragged the brown rectangular block of cement down the streets of Boston.

I always thought I hated cities, but it turns out I just hate large cities, like New York and Wasington DC. Most of Boston barely qualifies as a city, and looks more like New Hope, only with a third story. It may as well have been a suburb when I walked down the quiet, empty streets towards my hotel. Sure, it was Friday afternoon, but it was still surprising how quiet it was, although the fact that Boston is kind of a college town, and it was the middle of Summer, probably had something to do with it.

I finally made it to the hotel, and the staff was friendly. My room had a definite 'college dorm' feel to it, but it had everything I needed, including a TV with a bad picture and a really loud air conditioner. It made me feel young again.

A quick shower later and I was out on the town. I didn't exactly know what I was doing or where I was going, but I had a map, disposable income, and I was too large to mug, so the city was my oyster.

I don't know how Guiliani got the crazy homeless people out of New York, but they all went to Boston. It wasn't out of control, but there was still one on every block. My favorite was the first one I saw. I was walking next to him (he looked normal enough...although take into consideration that I'm from Jersey), and when two people turned and passed, he turned towards them and shouted:

"You're disgusting!"

He spit.

"You do not lie to the police! You're disgusting!"

I (along with a pretty girl in a red dress) moved quickly along away from him. I wondered if he knew the guy or was crazy. He walked down the street for awhile and started shouting the same thing at someone else.

The next thing of interest I saw was the John Hancock tower. It was ridiculously huge compared to everything around it, and for the remainder of the trip, I'd use it to navigate the city. All I had to do was walk towards it and I'd be closer to the hotel.

After the tower was the Trinity church, which had awesome architecture, filled with tiny statues carved into the sides of the buildings, and a great statue of its founder, with an Emperor Palpatine-like statue of Jesus looming behind him.

I stopped by the CVS (the only convenience store nearby, no Wawas in Boston), and picked up a couple disposable cameras, to document the trip. If I had the forethought to bring a digital camera, you'd be looking at the pictures right now. Still, I'll see if I can scan them later.

I wandered into the 'college' area of town (Boston is split up into completely unique areas, like a videogame), and wandered past all the dang fangled kids and their hot girlfriends. Boston also has a college of music, so all the street bands/performers were actually pretty good. After the college area was the 'commercial district', which pretty much solidified Boston's status as a life-size Sim City. In there I found a Boston Market (didn't eat there, but it was comforting to know that Boston had one), the happiest dog I've ever seen, and an incredibly geeky store 'the complete strategist'.

It has all the content of Gamer's Realm, only 1/4 the space. It's the kind of store that has its products in piles. The owner was going on a rant about how Americans today have more reason to start a revolution against the government then our forefathers did when they fought the British. I decided it'd be impolite to slap him.

For the rest of Friday, I mostly wandered. I found a place called the back bay fens, which is a great park, filled with strange out of control wildlife and gardens you're not allowed to enter. There was also an abundance of chubby girls riding bikes, and as a Queen fan, there's no way I could have not loved it. One even had pig tails. ^_^

Anyway, I wound up by Fenway Park (I was looking for the '5 wits', a real life Myst game/ride), and was surprised by the amount of closed down stores. Apparently, staying open next to Fenway Park is difficult if you can't figure out a way to capitalize on it. The parking next to Fenway park cost $35, which shocked me pretty bad. I wondered why they didn't just park at the McDonalds across the street.

I then saw the sign listing parking at McDonalds during games costing $30. Dang.

I took a wrong turn and accidentally entered the 'bad part of town'. I took a few steps past a hedge and a filthy, deranged homeless man leapt out of nowhere towards me. After seeing me, however, he decided to turn around and look at the ground. Whatever craziness he had in mind (hooting, hollering and demanding money I suspect) was decided against when he saw that I had a full foot and a hundred pounds on him.

Throughout all of this I have to mention that I was drinking more than I ever had before. Well, Boston is known for drinking, and I was by no means an exception.

Water, juice, soda, you name it! I was guzzling it down just to stay alive. Then I fell down.

There was a pothole in the sidewalk that was more or less exactly the size of my shoe. I stepped in it, and the ridiculous reflexes I only seem to have when falling over kicked in. I turned and fell, landing on my back, but scraping up the side of my arm (it just finally finished healing this week). I needed a swig from my soda after that, but found that small bits of gravel had somehow kicked up into it. I was spitting out tiny bits of stone for the rest of the night.

I got some disinfectant, band-aids, and then the best clam chowder I've ever eaten (not all at the same location). Whiskey tavern had a mediocre lobster special (I have to admit though, I'd never broken apart a whole lobster before, and almost told the waitress that I'd been bluffing), but a dynamite bowl of soup. The secret is that the clam was very fresh, and nothing in the bowl overpowered the flavor of the clam. It wasn't too creamy or heavy, and everything perfectly accentuated the taste of the clam.

By then I was tired of walking, but I hobbled back to my room, passed a perfectly restored Volkswagon Beetle (awesome...too bad it was baby blue), and then ran into the craziest person in all of Boston. No one else I met during the trip even came close.

She was a pretty, normal looking college student. I didn't hear her speak and she did nothing out of the ordinary. What was she doing that was so crazy?



At night.

I decided to take her last known photograph.

If it weren't for people like that, serial killers would actually have to get jobs.

I made it to my room, took another shower, watched a game of baseball and then went to sleep.

More on Saturday later.

Friday, August 24, 2007


I apologize in advance, but I have to rant. If I don't, I'll explode. I'll try to make it quick.


Eh, exploding wasn't that I'll just go ahead and rant a little bit anyway. Don't worry, I'll do a full, sillier post tomorrow.

I have to rant because Ben Stein, who has long been the most rational, reasonable and intelligent 'old school' conservative I've ever known, has recently finished a movie about how schools and 'big science' are attacking the theory of intelligent design.

Here's his spiel, from his blog. Feel free to lightly skim:

I’m Ben Stein – many of you know me from the classic film, “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off,” or from my Comedy Central show “Win Ben Stein’s Money”. Still others of you may know me as a speechwriter, for presidents Richard Nixon and Gerald Ford. You may even have read my books, attended one of my lectures at The American University, Washington DC, or seen me on the talk shows.

I’m glad you found this site, because I want to share with you my thoughts from time to time here about a subject that is very near and dear to me: freedom. EXPELLED: No Intelligence Allowed is a controversial, soon-to-be-released documentary that chronicles my confrontation with the widespread suppression and entrenched discrimination that is spreading in our institutions, laboratories and most importantly, in our classrooms, and that is doing irreparable harm to some of the world’s top scientists, educators, and thinkers.

America is not America without freedom. In every turning point in our history, freedom has been the key goal we are seeking: the Mayflower coming here, the Revolution, the Civil War, World War II, the Cold War. Tens of millions came here from foreign oppression and made a life here. Why? For freedom. Human beings are supposed to live in a state of freedom. Freedom is not conferred by the state: as our founders said, and as Martin Luther King repeated, freedom is God-given.A huge part of this freedom is freedom of inquiry.

Freedom of inquiry is basic to human advancement. There would be no modern medicine, no antibiotics, no brain surgery, no Internet, no air conditioning, no modern travel, no highways, no knowledge of the human body without freedom of inquiry.

This includes the ability to inquire whether a higher power, a being greater than man, is involved with how the universe operates. This has always been basic to science. ALWAYS.

Some of the greatest scientists of all time, including Galileo, Newton, Einstein, operated under the hypothesis that their work was to understand the principles and phenomena as designed by a creator.

Operating under that hypothesis, they discovered the most important laws of motion, gravity, thermodynamics, relativity, and even economics.

Now, I am sorry to say, freedom of inquiry in science is being suppressed.

Under a new anti-religious dogmatism, scientists and educators are not allowed to even think thoughts that involve an intelligent creator. Do you realize that some of the leading lights of “anti-intelligent design” would not allow a scientist who merely believed in the possibility of an intelligent designer/creator to work for him… EVEN IF HE NEVER MENTIONED the possibility of intelligent design in the universe?EVEN FOR HIS VERY THOUGHTS… HE WOULD BE BANNED.

In today’s world, at least in America, an Einstein or a Newton or a Galileo would probably not be allowed to receive grants to study or to publish his research.

They cannot even mention the possibility that–as Newton or Galileo believed–these laws were created by God or a higher being. They could get fired, lose tenure, have their grants cut off. This can happen. It has happened. EXPELLED: No Intelligence Allowed comes to theaters near you in February 2008. To learn more, check out my blog here often … and explore the rest of our site for new developments, or to volunteer to help spread the word.

Ben Stein

Where's all this leading us?

I wrote him an e-mail. I had to. Read on and see why:

Dear Mr. Stein,

Hello, my name is Robert Freeman. I've been a fan of your work for a long time (starting with my all time favorite game show), and although it may seem odd, when I was young, you encouraged me to think objectively and logically, especially in regards to politics.

I came from a VERY liberal family, where anything conservative or Republican was treated as pure evil, but I respected your logic and intelligence, and when I discovered you were conservative, I realized that there must be something to it. I then did a lot of research and thinking, and realized things I never had before, such as that conservatism is a sound federal policy, that there's no such thing as 'free money' (especially when government assistance is concerned), that Nixon was a very good President, and many other facts I never would have known, had I not thought logically and impartially.

No one was more shocked or surprised than myself when I found out the details of your upcoming movie, 'Expelled'.

I believe that intelligent design is a direct attack against science and fact, created through the power of abstract belief and popular opinion. It's one thing to hold close to your beliefs, but when you attack schools for not giving those beliefs the same weight as scientific fact, you attack logic and rational thought itself.

It's true, schools do discriminate against the idea of intelligent design. They also discriminate against the idea that 2 + 2 = 3.

Do you want messages in our children's textbooks that point out that math is just a 'theory', and that the theory that 'two plus two equals three' is just as valid as any other? Should that opinion get equal time in classrooms? Should students decide for themselves what two plus two equals?

All science and learning is based upon fact, and there's no room in there for opinion as well. Evolution is a fact. Intelligent design is an opinion. The only reason schools prevent intelligent design from being taught is because it's based no more on fact and rational ideas than Santa Claus or the hippie movement.

I've always respected you, and I'm not so much baffled by your opinions on evolution, as much as I'm baffled by your assault on logical thought and scientific fact. If you really support intelligent design, then I'd recommend finding sound scientific data that supports your beliefs. Attacking the school system for not bowing to public opinion is an attempt to punish them for having integrity. It makes infinitely more sense to prove someone is wrong rather than attempting to force them to say that they're wrong.

Well, thank you for your time and all the laughs, but I wish you'd reconsider the direction you're taking yourself in. Imagine a game show where the audience 'votes' whether a person's answer is right or wrong, rather than finding out what the real answer is through science and research. Is that a show you really want to be a part of?


Robert Max Freeman

Saturday, August 11, 2007


I'm back from my trip to Boston...but this has gone on long enough. Trips to Boston later, this week it's...


Some may call me mad, but I've been a fan of the ninja turtles for long enough, that I think I might be able to match Wikipedia on random knowledge about Donatello. If not...we'll have to go to a tie breaking round, but if I win, I'll have successfully trounced the internet! Let it begin.



Heralded as the 'smart' turtle, Donatello is also known for his vivid imagination, uncanny ability to create inventions, sensitivity, and almost complete inability to fight. Depending on the series, Donatello's abilities vary greatly in scale (both as an inventor and martial artist), often to the point of ridiculousness, but a normal trend is that the more realistic his inventions are, the better a fighter he is (in other words, if he's invention lazer guns out of trash, you can bet he's going to be the first turtle hitting the pavement). The other turtles tend to refer to him as 'Donnie' rather than his full name (the others being 'Leo', 'Mikey', and 'Raff').

In the original series, Donatello wears a red bandana, as did all the turtles. In the later cartoon series, his bandana was changed to purple, which solidifies his dubious honor of being by far the most effeminate ninja turtle.

Donatello's weapon is the bo (staff), which is a strange choice for a ninja. Granted, it is a traditional ninja fighting style, and was used in the manner Donatello uses it (attacking defensively, with extended reach), but it was mainly used earlier in history, and was considered far primitive compared to the weapons of the other turtles. The bo was most commonly used in China, where Buddhist missionaries were trained in its use, so that they could better protect themselves against bandits. In Japan, people usually learned to use the bo because they had no other option available to them. It's odd that Splinter's master (or Splinter himself, depending on the version of the story) would be trained in a peasant's weapon, but he may have chosen the weapon for Donatello because it best reflected his peaceful nature.

Donatello is the sensitive, introspective turtle, although without the angst, anger or fear that Raphael has. Overall, he works the hardest of the turtles to keep the family together, but ironically he's usually the least effective in the time of an emergency, as he is far less a fighter or warrior and far more a thinker and worker. Depending on the series, he may have a close friendship with another turtle (usually Michelangelo) or side character (Casey Jones or Erma). Possibly due to his sensitivity, depending on the series, Donatello is usually the most likely of the turtles to have a girlfriend, or female admirer. Of the turtles, Donnie is also the most likely to get bullied by Raphael.

Donatello also has a creative side, and is the only ninja turtle who actually reads on a regular basis, and usually has the equivalent of a college level education (obviously self taught). This is usually reflected in the story by his crazy inventions, ability to understand advanced technology, and knowledge of random facts and trivia. When donning disguises or costumes (or for variant special action figures) Donatello is usually a literary figure (example: a hard boiled detective) or sci-fi reference (example: a John Carpenter alien).

Donatello is usually described as the smallest, weakest and slowest turtle (in video games he usually has a lack of speed to balance his greater reach), solidifing his position as the brains of the group. Donatello's presence is usually mandatory for the scene, to give plot exposition or to solve a mystery. When the action actually starts, unless he's fighting on his own, it's almost certain that he'll be the least effective in combat, and probably not get any lines until the fighting has ended. His lack of fighting ability usually isn't pointed out, however, as he still is by far a better fighter than the average villain, but not the villain leaders, as that's the time for the other turtles to shine.

Original Series

The original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles series was far more dark, realistic and violent. To reflect this, Donatello's abilities were far more realistic, and his inventions were far more mundane. As stated before, when Donatello's inventions are more realistic, his fighting ability improves. For example, in one of the earlier storylines, Donatello hurles his staff directly into Shredder's face, smashing it into a bloody mess. As I said, the stories were violent.

There was a strong sci-fi element to the stories, however, and the fact that Donatello was the only turtle who was computer literate allowed him to understand the technology better than the other turtles.

Donatello was the most solitary of the turtles (Michelangelo and Raphael had the strong friendship), but had many solo stories with other non-turtle characters (most notably an artist that could bring paintings to life, and a humanoid dinosaur-like girlfriend).

Original Cartoon Series

In the 1987 original cartoon series that made the turtles famous, Donatello's bandana became purple, his inventions suddenly became ridiculous, and he lost all ability to fight. It even became a running joke among the fans to keep track of how many times Donatello's bo would break (which happened about every other episode).

Donatello's voice was the sillest and probably most recognizable of the turtles, although many different actors provided his voice in the run of the series. His personality was the overly effeminate and passive one we all know today (a bit lighter than the introspective loner of the original series), and he usually paired up with a side character like Erma, April O'Neil's friend, who was also Donnie's ambiguous girlfriend, or at least female admirer.

For the cartoon series, Donatello created the numerous vehicles and inventions (out of spare parts and garbage I guess) that the turtles sold to children...I MEAN USED IN BATTLE! That's right, used in battle. Donnie also usually drove, which gave him something to do when the battle began.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Original Videogame for NES

Starting here, and with all the video games, Donatello was the slow character with long reach. Strangely enough, in the VERY difficult Nintendo videogame, Donatello was also the strongest, which attributed solely to the length of his weapon. As anyone can tell you, it's not the length of the weapon that matters, but how...uh...perhaps we should move on.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Arcade Games

All the ninja turtle arcade games were basically similar, but the first version was perhaps the best. Donatello was a very popular choice for players (as was Michelangelo), not because of any advantage in the game, but because their controllers were in the traditional 'Player 1' and 'Player 2' spots, with Donatello being in the 'Player 2' spot.

Donatello's staff had the longest reach of the turtles in these arcade games (especially with his jump attack), but his attacks were the slowest.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles the Movie

In the first movie, Donatello was voiced by the teen star Corey Feldman, and was portrayed as the brainy genius he usually was, although he didn't seem to make any inventions, and the movie overall attempted to remain realistic. As in the original series (which the movie seems mainly based upon, albeit without the sci-fi elements), Donatello's genius is shown through his ability to fix normal machines, use computers and understand advanced technology and science. Donatello's fighting abilites markedly improved for the movies (and his bo didn't break even once), and he stood shoulder to shoulder with the other turtles in battle.

In this movie, Donatello has a strong friendship with Michelangelo (who like him retreats when Leo and Raff are fighting), and later also becomes good friends with Casey Jones. In both cases, Donatello plays off both of them very well, and in general has a lot more lines (and far more jokes) than he normally has in the cartoons and comics. This was most likely due to the fact that Corey Feldman, at that point a popular teen star, was voicing him.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: New Cartoon Series

The focus and nature of the cartoon series changed when they remade it, attempting to split the differnce between the cartoons and the movies, with silly ridiculous situations, traditional Saturday morning villains, and with some of Donatello's unrealistic inventions. As in the movies, Donatello had far better fighting ability than in the original cartoons (and was also a rather talented acrobat).

TMNT: The New Movie

Suprisingly, the newest animated movie appears to be based upon the movie series, rather than the cartoons. Although no reference is made to the second or third movie, there are many features of the original movie that are present in this one, including: the sewer base converted from an old train station, Shredder's defeat (and apparent death), April and Casey's relationship, Casey Jones's vigilantism, Raphael's dark side, Donatello and Michelangelo's friendship, and the conflict between Leonardo and Raphael.

Donatello's inventions in this movie involve realistic machinery and advanced computer use, but all of which is generally realistic. On the other hand, in the official videogame version of the movie, Donatello's inventions are far more advanced and unrealistic, including mechanized nunchucks for Mikey, which allow him to fly like a helicopter for a short period of time.

In this movie, Donatello has reverted a bit back towards his original cartoon roots, as he's far more effeminate, brainy, and timid than the other turtles. The movie does take time to show, however, that he's trying harder than any of his brothers to provide for their basic needs and keep them together. In combat, he is capable, but perhaps a bit behind where he was in the original movie, and in the final fight he's pitted against the smallest villain.


That's it! Let's see how it compares to wiki...

Pretty close. Eerily close in fact. It goes a bit back and forth, with a lot of good trivia on the wiki page (I didn't know there was an alternate disutopian parallel universe episode of the new cartoon series where all the turtles except Donnie is killed), although there are blind sights in the wiki which I picked up: he mentions Donatello as being weaker than Leonardo in the original video games (which he wasn't), he left out the classic arcade game, and I included more specifics about the movies (although the wiki does, admittedly, include more information about the comics). Overall, Donatello has a very nice wiki page, with a lot of information on the character and abilites of Donatello.

I think we're at a tie. Is there anything that can break this stalemate?


Splinter often called Donatello 'Don-san', which is a way of showing respect to someone, which reflects the fact that Splinter has great respect for the sacrifices that Donatello makes in order to keep his brothers together.

I forgot that.

The wiki didn't.

Damn it, they beat me by a quarter-inch.


I made it far closer of a fight than most expected, but regardless, I have fallen to wikipedia. Yeah, I know that it's arguably the best of all internet sites, and I was a fool to challenge it, but I had to, for the sake of all those that would stand up against the internet and call it an ad-spewing porn machine.

Words like that get a guy slapped down. Wikipedia, I bow to your all encompassing 'universal galactic intelligence' nature, but you alone will not be enough to settle this.

We need a tie breaker! What will it be? How will this end?! Stay tuned.