Archive | Animation RSS feed for this section

C

23 Oct

I am that I tiger.

Wow. It’s crazy how far we’ve come, isn’t it? I mean, take a look.

We started with that review of that one movie with the dolls. Then, I said something I’d like to take back, and got lazy, and didn’t post for some time. After that, I came back and told a story, turned into more of a weirdo than usual. Then there was this poorly edited version of something I wrote, followed by another poorly edited version of something I wrote that is now way different, even in terms of plot, time periods, character development, dialogue, etc. So much stuff!

Man, what else did we do? Ah, that’s right! We went on a journey together, and you heard my voice and it was awkward. I wrote a bad ending, and watched an adequate show so you didn’t have to. We followed a goat, examined terrorism, false advertised, discussed knowledge, stayed up late, talked about you, got pissed about abortion, started, got pissed about each other (or I guess it was just me being a bitch or whatever), got pissed about some superhero movie, analyzed characters. Hell, we even got you to want to follow me on Twitter less than you already did! Oh, and something about 9/11, and loving you.

I think the last thing we discussed was racism, and I’ve been away a while. Don’t worry, I’m not disappearing. I just wanted to make sure I did something special for our hundredth time together. I couldn’t come up with much, honestly. Just remembering the good times with the Legendary Heroes and whatnot.

Okay, I guess that’s everything. Here’s something to read before you go to bed, or when you wake up, or whenever. Oh, and here’s a list.

Goodnight/good morning/good evening/good space/you all need to play Beyond: Two Souls.

 

~D.

C

P.S. – I think I left out something, but I feel like I shouldn’t talk about it for some reason.

 

P.P.S. – Look at this tiger.

Moonlight

22 Aug

Just watch and listen.

That’s all. Just go on Google, right now. Go there, and click the “play” button, and just watch and listen to art.

 

~D.

Gifted

19 May

The truth will makes you shit the bed.

So, I was supposed to write something yesterday, and I didn’t. What am I going to do to make up for it? Nothing. Why? I don’t owe you anything. What? You think that’s rude? Oh, come on. Would you rather I lied? Would you rather I wept at your feet begging the forgiveness of you and your divine brethren in Heaven Above? Would you rather I were obedient? Would you rather I were “timely?” A wizard is never late, nor is he early. Know it like you know your name. I ALWAYS get things done when I mean to. I never meant to write anything yesterday. That’s why I didn’t promise anything. That’s the key word: promise.

I only make promises when I mean to keep them. If I plan on breaking an agreement, I don’t make promises. Quite simple, hm? Ah, but now I AM here, so you want something. Notice I haven’t ASKED that. I know you want something, it needs no inquiry. So, what shall I give you? Ah, THAT is a question that needs answering.

Lucky.

How about I re-post that chapter again, just for good measure? No, you’ll get angry. You’re always so angry. What in Satan’s name’s the deal with you, hm? Having cramps? Swallowed a lozenge? Got cheated on? Come on, say it, what’s the deal?

Okay, you won’t talk. That’s fine. I’ll just figure out something for us to do. I KNOW! Let’s go check out Reddit. What’s on there right now? Okay, this is on the front. There, now isn’t that just perfect? It’s a marine and his bomb sweeping dog. He’s been given custody of her for a week. I think that’s awesome, don’t you? You do? Cool, we agree on something. And, even if you don’t think it’s awesome, it doesn’t matter. You can’t talk. You can’t say a word. You can’t deny it, you silent oaf. You have no defense, no retaliation  You’re a spectator. You’re a viewer. You have no say here. You can throw something in the comments box, but I’m in control there, too.

Here, I am God.

Where’s he going with this? Here, take a look at this. Now, that’s a young boy who wrote that. I’ve been sending messages to him, and him to me back. We’re in good standing with each other. However, once I’m there, that place you just were, I am no longer God. But I AM God. And see, here’s where your mind splits. I am God here, and you are not. But you ARE. Because somewhere, someplace, YOU TOO are God, just like the boy. He controls the blog, he controls THAT world, THAT universe. And somewhere else, you have your own universe that YOU forge, that YOU control. And because of this, WE ARE ALL GODS. And because of this, we are all gifted.

Networked

But none of that means anything. I lied to you. You should be upset, hurt, intolerant, angry with me. Why listen? Why believe my words? Because we trusted each other? I broke that trust. You have no reason to forgive me. You have no reason to come back to me, to love me.

But you do love me, because I’m God. And I love you, because you’re God.

“I am that I am.”

—Us

Pickles and Jam

3 May

Sometimes, we just have to sit for a bit, y'know?

Okay, guys. I know I joke around a lot on here, and I know you like that (yeah, I actually read the messages and emails and all that jazz), but I’m listening to Stairway to Heaven right now and, to be honest, it’s making me look back at everything I’ve accomplished. I’m smiling, the reason being that I’ve actually created quite the impact on a few people throughout the past few years that I’ve been doing this. It makes me proud to know I’ve helped a few people, even inspired some. You know, I might go so far as to say that you guys are—naw, I’ll save that one. That one’s important.

But, I do enjoy you all, and I know y’all enjoy me and my work and shtuff. So, the first thing I’m going to do is paste the fully edited version of the first chapter of Ledge on here for you. Now, you may think I’m being lazy, but the point isn’t the chapter, it’s the second thing I’m doing, which comes after the chapter.

So, here it goes. This is for you guys, really:

———————————————————————————————————————————–

CHAPTER ONE: CLINGING

There’s darkness, and then the curtains are drawn back. Time starts. His thumb moves. Click. That’s the sound of the gun’s hammer getting pulled back.

“Still won’t talk, Mr. Adams?”

That’s Greg. He isn’t holding the gun. Mac’s holding the gun. Mac’s seven feet tall, or something.

“Hit him again, Mac.”

Whack! That’s me getting punched in the face by a left hook. The gun’s in his right hand, not aimed at anything in particular yet.

“Come on, Adams. We don’t got all day. Just tell us where your friend is and we’ll let you go.”

My friend is Michael. I won’t tell Greg anything. I think my jaw’s broken anyway. It hurts like hell.

“Adams…”

We’re in a hotel room. It’s got a nice view overlooking Lake Oslana. That wasn’t the lake’s first name, but the owner of the hotel line decided it’d be a nice one to buy. I wonder what it was called originally.

“You know how easy this is. And it’s not like we’re gonna backstab you or anything. Just let us at him!”

I wish Greg would get it over with and have my ass capped already. My favorite suit’s already ruined, and there’s no way I’m exposing Michael—no way. I really hope he doesn’t come in and try to save me or anything.

AGH! GOOD GOD!

“That’s strike one. Next we put a bullet in your other thigh. Might be hard to walk around. Start talking.”

Jesus Christ, it hurts so much! Keep it together, Eddie! Be cool! You’ll make it out of this. Just need a plan.

Greg’s looking over at the other two men in the room, Mac not being one of them. He says something to them, but I can’t hear it very well. It HURTS!

“…and if we’re not quick enough, the Doctor might wonder what’s taking so long!”

The Doctor: a psychotic crime lord, currently working with the government (strange irony there). Whack! Another punch. The Doctor REALLY wants Michael dead, huh?

“We may have to waterboard it out of this guy,” says one of the other men. I don’t know his name, just some random goon with a gun. I hope Greg doesn’t agree.

“Get the rags,” he says. Now I’m done for. I won’t be able to hold out through that stuff. I hope Michael left the country. It’s not safe here in State 9 anymore, not with all that’s been happening lately.

A lot of time passes once the third man exits to get the rags. I give Greg an indifferent look. He shoots a glare. I give Mac the same look and he just snorts and walks off, dropping the gun on a sofa chair. He talks quietly with the last man in the room (just another goon).

“Why do you care so much?” Greg asks me. I become introspective and really analyze this before I answer, and then I shrug seeing as nothing I say will prove satisfactory. If I told him how Michael saved me, how he was different from the other you-know-whats, he wouldn’t understand. He’d just say I was a nutcase who needed his head examined.

After the course of two or three minutes (it felt like a lot more to me), the rags arrive with the third man. He tosses them to Mac, who catches them with ease.

“Did you bring the bottles too?” Greg asks.

“They’re just outside sir,” the man responds. “I’ll go get ‘em.”

The chair I’m strapped to is made of wood. It is laid across the floor, me now facing the ceiling. This is going to suck.

“You could always talk now,” Greg offers. I remain silent, like a good friend should, and the rags are placed over my face. I toss my head to the left, throwing the rags off. When a hard punch hits me in the—Lord, that hurts!—face I stopped turning. The rags go over me again. I think my nose is bleeding.

One of the water bottles is opening, I can hear it. Here it comes. Mac’s tilting it right now. Get out now, Michael. Get out before they find y—CRASH!

“What the—?!”

The sound of men being tossed about the room echoes through my ears. Bullets fly from Mac’s gun, but it explodes in his hand, causing him to shout in pain. The other two goons fire but are launched into the ceiling, their necks snapping. I can hear Greg being pinned against the wall. Mac is groaning and weeping on the floor as the rags are lifted off my face.

Michael.

“Get out of here!” I tell him. He unties the ropes that bind me and helps me into a sofa chair. There’s Greg, being held against the wall by Michael’s power.

“I couldn’t just leave you,” he tells me, before looking to Greg with an expressionless face. One of the guns of the dead goons soars toward his hand. He aims it at the leader of the group, now begging for mercy.

“To harm an ally of mine is to hang oneself,” the angel says. Then a red mark appears between the eyes of Greg and blood trickles down from it until it reaches his lips. The body falls to the floor, lifeless. Michael looks back at me.

“Are you all right, Edward?”

“Yeah,” I lie, “I’m dandy. You showed up just in time. Although I still think you need to get the hell out of Dodge.”

He puts his hand on my shoulder and says, “We are getting out, not I.”

“I have to see Sally first.”

Sally’s my girlfriend. She’s—she’s beautiful. It’s a long story. I haven’t quite decided whether I’ll marry her yet. We’ve been with each other quite a while now.

“No time,” Michael tells me, causing me further worry. “Those were easy hunters. If they send Lucifer—.”

“I can’t just leave her. They’ll kill her!”

I’m standing now, but my leg hurts too much. I’m trembling as I fall back into the chair. Michael holds a hand to where the bullet is and slowly—YAGH—levitates it out of me. I’m not bleeding too badly. Okay, maybe I AM bleeding too badly. But he’s already ripping a bed sheet apart and wrapping a piece of it around the wound.

“That should stop the bleeding. Raphael will be able to heal you later.”

“Michael, I can’t leave her.”

His face, though without expression, holds weight behind it like you couldn’t imagine. His eyes waver and glow. And then, he understands.

“I will get you to safety first. The others are downstairs with a car. I’ll let them get you out of here, then I’ll get the girl.”

I’m thinking of disagreeing, thinking of telling him I have to be there when it happens. But that’d be foolish right now. I need healing, and Raphael’s always been the quickest at that.

“All right, fine. Let’s go.”

He nods. We depart. Mac looked dead last I checked.

This world has changed since the war. I can only hope that doing what I’m doing will help save it from its own self-destruction. Although, to be honest, when I look outside at the covert dystopia that has come, I can’t help but lose hope entirely.

We’re hanging on a ledge right now. I really hope Man’s fingers don’t get any more tired than they already are.

———————————————————————————————————————————–

Before I go, I want to tell you a true story about the power of art. There was once this girl sitting in a car on a city bridge. It was night, and not very many cars were passing by at the time. She was crying, weeping actually, because right then, right there, in that moment, she intended, completely and utterly, to drive over the edge of the bridge into the water below. Sweat trickled down her neck and shivers traveled up her spine. Now, this sort of thing happens all the time, and so, naturally, she could’ve just pressed down on the gas and gotten it over with. In most cases, this would’ve been so.

So then there was this nightclub. A DJ (I won’t say who, but suffice to say he’s a pretty big deal in the clubbing world—and a family friend) was playing some killer tracks, and everyone was going wild. The room was electric, truly. You could feel the life pulsating through it, like a heartbeat. Then, after the DJ’s work was done and he was turning in for the night, someone tried to reach him backstage. At first, security tried to shove the person away, but the DJ approved their passage, for they did not seem to be some crazy, drunk fan out seeking autographs or something “intimate.” His guess was right, for it was then that the person told him of the miracle that had been bestowed upon them.

They had just recently gone through some of the toughest trials life had ever thrown their way. In fact, these trials were so punishing and cruel, that the person had been driven to the point where death seemed like the only option. And then, literally seconds before the gas pedal was pressed down and a body was made soulless, a song came on the radio, a song called It’s Gonna Be Okay. It was one of the DJ’s best songs.

Art saved her life that night.

To all my fans who are artists: any time you think maybe your life would be more useful somewhere else, doing what society has told you is “productive,” remember that you’re doing something that actually saves lives. If that ain’t productive—ah, screw that, it’s productive, know it like you know your name. We need more of you out there, because even if you’re never thanked for it, know that you’re doing something badass just by being an artist.

So yeah, that’s why I put random pictures at the top of all my articles. Now, finish the night with this video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nwAYpLVyeFU

Love,

D.

Laugh.

You Never Know How A Post Is Gonna Venereal Diseases

29 Apr

The elves know Madison.

To any of my readers who have venereal diseases: too soon?

The last fictional piece I wrote for the blog that actually had a point and a purpose was rather anti-climactic. So, until I finish a few more shorts, and until I actually finish them, I’ll just be struggling to find something appealing for you guys. How’s about I give you a peak into what’s coming in the future:

STAR WARS: I’ve gotten a ton of requests to do another Star Wars piece. I’ve decided that this blog is just as much yours as it is mine and so I’ll figure something out about writing a “Top 5” or something.

SHORTS: As mentioned previously, I’m working on some short stories. I’ll be able to post them regularly on here soon. They’ll be a lot darker and moodier than my usual material, which is good because, you know, there isn’t enough dark and moody material on the market.

BASKETBALL: I just felt like writing the word; nothing here.

REVIEWS: I’ll be doing movie reviews again! Expect one for Star Trek: Into Darkness. I’m super stoked for that one, you have no idea.

SPOTLIGHTING: I’ll spotlight cool internet related things I find. It’ll give me more to do on here, more to talk with you about other than, you know, me.

I think that’s everything. All right, I’ll be seeing you guys! I’m off to not play TF2 some more (a few of you got that). BYE!

 

~D.

My Thoughts On Journey

14 Jan

Will Wright should've taken a better look at this game.

Indie game developer thatgamecompany (yes, it’s a lowercase t, and yes, it’s all bunched up that way) has been known throughout their short lifespan to develop simple games with deep emotional themes. Their first was the oceanic adventure flOw, where players took control of a tiny organism that evolved through the consumption of others like it. As it did this, it would descend to the darkest depths of the ocean, only to find itself facing seemingly insurmountable obstacles and enemies. The result was, and still is, a fun, beautifully designed piece of art that anyone, be they a hardcore Counter-Strike player, or a scrub who’s just getting into gaming, can enjoy. It appeared first on the PC, and then on PlayStation Network utilizing the PS3’s SIXAXIS controls. This was the beginning of TGC’s relationship with Sony, which would lead to the production of their next game: Flower.

Isn't it pretty? Yeah, dark, but pretty. :)

Flower was TGC’s first attempt at crafting a story along with their game. It begins with you in your dilapidated bedroom. A potted flower is resting on the windowsill (I’m pretty sure that’s where it is. It’s been a while since I’ve played). It hasn’t bloomed yet. As you focus on it, you go to sleep (this is implied, but it’s plainly obvious). When you arrive in your little dream world, you become the petal of the flower you saw in reality, breaking away from the flower and allowing it to bloom. You then proceed to pass over other flowers, using the SIXAXIS controls as in flOw, helping them bloom and gathering a single petal from each along the way.

The night missions are awesome, really.

The journey you go on from this point really shouldn’t be spoiled for those who haven’t played. For those who have, no recap is necessary. You meet adversity, just as you did in flOw, although the dangers you face are very different from the creatures in TGC’s first game, less alive and more stagnant, they still prove to be just as threatening. It’s an art game, it’s true, but it’s not like art films where you look at it and you go, “Yeah, the critics are gonna jerk off all over this one.” You really feel the love and care that was put into the universe of Flower, as well as its subtle, but effective, story. Flower showed the world that TGC could make not just a great game, but tell a great story as well. Now it was time for them to pull out the big guns. And so, here it is, their 2012 masterpiece, Journey.

Guys, this one's a classic, no lie.

Now, this may sound crazy, and I played a lot of games last year that were really good. I haven’t finished The Walking Dead, so I may take it back after the last episode, we’ll see. However, as of right now, I can firmly state that Journey was my favorite game of 2012. Seriously guys, this game totally caught me off guard. I mean, Flower was awesome, really awesome. It was a solid game. But Journey adds a level of aesthetics to gaming that barely any games have ever brought to the table. Heavy Rain did a great job, but Journey is just–it’s friggin’ JOURNEY! The game stars an unnamed protagonist, who seeks to reach the top of a great mountain. They comes across an intriguing set of companions who communicate through song with the game’s hero, aiding them in their quest to reach the peak. As the player progresses through the game, they will uncover the history of the Journey universe, learning what’s so special about this mountain, why it needs to be reached, where the main character’s origins lie, and, above all else, their applicability to the real world.

Awmahgosh, this part was AMAZING!

In just a few short hours (and this game is short, definitely), you’ll have developed not only an intimate relation to your character, but the world around you and its inhabitants. The ending (don’t worry, I’m not saying anything) is–oh, just buy the damn game and stop listening to me. Seriously, if you don’t don’t have a PS3, buy one, then get a PSN account (it’s free, unlike XBOX Live) and, from there, go to the PSN Store and buy and download Journey.

They're like magic carpet people.

I’m not trying to be like IGN, okay. You know what I mean, right? Like how IGN did a Mass Effect 3 review that was absolutely perfect and barely mentioned the #*<&!%@ $#**$#!^ <^%* @$$ $#!^ ending we got that #*<&!%@ sucked? No, I’m being legitimate here: this game is that good. The Walking Dead is a close runner-up, as is Planetside 2.  I’m still not taking anything back until after I finish The Walking Dead. If the last episode destroys my face with awesome, then perhaps I’ll eat my words and have to tell you all, “I was wrong.” Until then, go buy Journey.

Just do it.

~D.

My Thoughts On Toy Story 3

12 Jul

When I saw the first trailer for Toy Story 3 I became very nervous that PIXAR was about to make their one flop. Then when I actually saw the movie I was reminded tat PIXAR doesn’t make flops. The third movie in this trilogy (and yes, it is the last one) is probably the best PIXAR movie I’ve seen to date next to Up (and I don’t say that lightly) and is one of the better films of the year. If I was to make a list of the best 100 movies of the past decade, this would have to be on it. I won’t spoil too much, but I will give you enough data to be able to call this a review.

First I just want to make it known that if you’ve seen the first two Toy Story movies, then you will absolutely love the opening scene of Toy Story 3. I’m not going to tell you what it is, but it’s phenomenal what they do with elements from the first film, as well as the second film. It’s very charming to see how much PIXAR cares about their fans who grew up with the series (the first one came out the year I was born).

Next, there’s the plot. I won’t say much, but it’s very surprising and dark for a “kiddie” movie. The cover is that Andy, the owner of the toys from the movies, is now seventeen and is heading off to college. He hasn’t been playing with his old toys for some time, and at first decides to put them all up in his attic and take Woody with him off to college (he’s a special toy). However, after a series of coincidences (that are a bit complex and hard to explain in a review without spoilers), all of the toys end up being donated to a daycare called Sunnyside.

Upon arriving at the daycare the toys at first believe they’ve entered a paradise where they’ll always be played with. Soon enough, however, they discover that the kids who will be playing with them aren’t exactly “mature enough” to use them correctly, and are tortured roughly by the new children. Not only that but the entire daycare is ruled under an iron fist by a toy who shall remain nameless at this time. The basic goal of the toys in this film is to escape from this “prison daycare” and get back to Andy’s house where they belong.

That’s a very brief description of what Toy Story 3 is. I don’t want to say too much, as you may have noticed, for the very reason that the effect you will feel while watching it will be ruined overall if I tell you too much. That’s the truth. I can tell you this much though, I don’t usually get affected very much by movies, especially animated movies. In this one, I friggin’ cried. Yeah, I’ll admit it. I got all watery-eyed at the end. It’s a beautiful movie, honestly. It’s absolutely hilarious and well worth the full price. There’s no cheap gags or anything like you’ll see in most movies made by Dreamworks. It’s a nice ride, and I’ll gladly go on it again, and again, and again, and…