stranger without candy
as i walked down my street on the way to my guitar lesson last night, i encountered a rather harried-looking woman smoking a cigarette out on the sidewalk.
"hi, excuse me," she chirped, turning to meet me as i approached. then, noticing that i had a cigarette, she murmurred in a rumble "ok, at least you're smoking," almost as an aside to herself.
first thought: "huh, that's a weird thing to say. maybe she feels we share a smoker's kinship or something."
then: "she kind of looks like amy sedaris. and seeing as how she's out in front of the house where jesse has told me the eccentric sister of amy and david sedaris resides ... "
she confirmed my suspiscion immediately, introducing herself, in neighbor-to-neighbor fashion, as tiffany sedaris.
i hesitated a bit, feeling a bubble of mild nausea rise up in me.
when i was a college freshman, i regularly got baked with friends and cracked up watching tiffany's sister portray a cheerful dementia on the program 'strangers with candy'. a couple of years later, i read affectionately bittersweet anecdotes about her family in a david sedaris book i had received as a christmas gift.
i felt like an unintentional voyeur. it didn't help that i remembered jesse telling me of a boston globe article about tiffany in which she bemoaned that the popularity of her brother's works had framed the way in which people received her -- especially when meeting her for the first time -- and inspired them to make snap assumptions about her life and her personality.
it was a weird feeling, but i decided that i could mitigate that by just reacting to her as she had received me: as a neighbor.
getting a hold of myself, i said, "oh, hi, i'm jon. i live a few houses down."
we talked mostly about her missing cat, which was what she had stopped me to inquire about in the first place. she seemed to be puzzling things out on the fly, kicking herself for letting the cat outside, wondering if she should put a big missing poster up somewhere on her house, worrying over her pet being lost outside on halloween because "thirteen-year-olds can be real assholes." i did my best to make light of things, offering that we have three cats at home, and that such things are bound to happen.
seeing that i had a guitar, she asked me about the kind of music i played, and made a tangential but funny crack about clog dancing.
on parting, she interrupted pleasantries almost urgently to inform me that she does glass work, and that some of her pieces are displayed in the front window of her home.
i didn't think it was a desperate stab at drumming up business, but rather got the impression that she felt that letting me in on her craft was an essential means to an end; hey, i'm your neighbor, and this is what i do.
i think i might drop by some hungover saturday afternoon to check out her work. she's cool, and maybe she has something within the meager price range i've set for original art that would help me finish off the one blank wall i have left in my room.
Game Review: Ultimate Ghosts 'n Goblins
The funny thing is, as I fired up Ultimate Ghosts n' Goblins for the first time, I wasn't speculating so much on what kinds of graphical enhancements, beefed-up sounds and gameplay tweaks Capcom would bring to its portable update of the console classic.
I was thinking more about the weight, durability and aerodynamics of the PSP system, and about how far it would travel if I whipped it across the room, and whether it could survive a crash landing, and wondering if I had the funds to reimburse my friend Mouse if I ended up smashing the one he let me borrow to review the game.
The original Ghosts n' Goblins on Nintendo set a standard in console gaming's early days for the kind of insanely steep difficulty that inspires gamers to defenestrate their controllers. The hero, Arthur, could hurl projectiles in just two directions and absorb only two hits by bullet or enemy contact before dying, bosses from the opening stages would appear together to tag team the player later on, and if you ever did manage to run the hellish gauntlet and topple Lucifer, the final boss, the game cheekily informed you that you had to complete a second, more difficult go-around in order to finally save the princess and earn the true ending.
Still, solid gameplay mechanics, colorful presentation and a memorable cast of characters proved that Ghosts 'n Goblins was more than a mere exercise in masochism. The same can be said of subsequent series releases on the Genesis and SNES, which improved players' odds a bit by granting Arthur the ability to fire in multiple directions, adding new weapons to his arsenal and giving him screen-clearing magic spells, even as Hell's minions remained as resilient as ever, and the environments they inhabited just as perilous.
Now, having effectively skipped two console generations, Ghosts 'n Goblins returns to remind older players of how a videogame can simultaneously set your teeth on grind and encourage you to come back hastily for seconds and thirds after shaming you, and to punish a host of new gamers who've generally had it too easy in life, what with their multiple save points, generous life bars and powder puff enemies.
This is not to say that Ultimate Ghosts 'n Goblins poses an impenetrable challenge to newbies. Aware of the vast scope of modern gaming community, the game proffers three difficulty settings: "Ultimate" doffs its helmet to the original game, imposing two-hit deaths on players and sending them all the way back to the beginning of the level with every demise, while the tamer 'Standard' and 'Novice' modes pamper them with more hit points and extra lives, and by respawning Arthur at the exact points where he kicks the bucket.
It's not exactly a kinder, gentler Ghosts 'n Goblins, though, as regardless of which setting you choose, the game does not artificially alter its core challenge by removing enemies or obstacles.
And believe me, UG 'n G wastes no time bringing the pain.
While Arthur enjoys some new weapons (including a nifty boomerang scythe and a Simon Belmont-approved whip capable of taking down the bigger foes in one or two hits), bolstered magic attacks, pick-ups galore and some fresh platforming tricks, all of which render him more well-rounded and user-friendly than before, Capcom has made sure to stack the deck on the other side to more than compensate for such additions. From the get-go, you are forced to essentially multitask in order to survive, mounting a full-court-press offense to keep the hordes of monsters attacking you from all directions at bay, all the while dodging shots and negotiating the expected pitfalls and traps that populate each level. As you'll notice almost immediately, this latter endeavor becomes complicated by the fact that you recoil when hit, a convention of traditional platforming that can instantly send you plummeting into bottomless chasms; purists will likely accept this as an indelible, familiar element of the form, while others will bemoan that the one-hit deaths that result are cheap. Meanwhile, you have to strive for some degree of accuracy with your shots, lest you nail a gravestone with an errant projectile and summon the wizard, a series staple who can transform Arthur into such comparitively impotent forms as a chicken, grasshopper and a skeleton (though resourceful players will find that they can actually take advantage of the 'fat lady' form's ability to float to pepper stubborn airborne enemies with fire).
Along the way, you'll encounter a host of mid- and end level bosses that will impose extreme tests of your reflexes and, more importantly, your ability to be patient and read patterns. Some of the battles, such as the one with the rattlesnake mini-boss pictured above, are decidely uninspired, and lean a little too heavily on the need for sound hand-eye coordination. Others hearken back to showdowns with the awe-inspiring, screen-filling bosses of the 16-Bit entries in the series, and encourage a wonderful marriage of strategy, reaction time and fundamental platforming savvy. One of the most memorable is your second fight with the recurring gate keeper monster, which circles the screen around Arthur, firing off bullets and periodically taking out the ledges from underneath him, which forces you to scramble furiously as you nic away at its health with pot shots.
Whether bland or bursting with innovation, these boss battles are abusive. Make no mistake: you will die. And you will die often.
If all of this sounds a little overwhelming, it's because it's supposed to be. But then, Capcom's aim is not to frustrate you with impossible difficulty, but rather to facilitate the kind of adrenaline rush moments that occur when you're operating on sheer gut-level, trigger-fingering instinct. Such moments have unfortunately become rare as interface and game worlds have become more complex and abstract, and to experience them again here transcends mere nostalgia: they're pretty damn fun, too.
One such sequence came for me on the third board. Finding that a pillar I had just mounted was teetering over, I waited until it had leaned forward enough for me to successfully double-jump the gorge it towered over. Upon nailing the landing, though, I found that my new perch was quickly crumbling. I rushed forward to make use of Arthur's new ledge grab move as it fell away, and pulled myself up onto solid ground. Almost immediately, an enemy set in motion a huge boulder that threatened to knock me back into the chasm. A quick double-jump later, and the rock rolled harmlessly into the pit. All of this happened within a matter of seconds, and the resultant visceral excitement was awesome.
Almost equally satisfying, too, is negotiating the clever ways in which the environments are structured, particularly when it comes to how each one dangles temptations like extra lives and power-ups just out of your reach, forcing you to think creatively and act with precision in order to claim your prize without losing a life. Because the levels are oftentimes on the short side, exploration is generally limited to minor detours off the linear path, and with few stages to begin with, there doesn't feel like there's quite enough extraneous meat to dig into. However, the new warp key pick-ups encourage you to do some backtracking, enabling you to retrieve previously inaccessible treasures and items, some of which bestow permanent abilities.
The graphics and sound evoke a light-hearted, nostalgic theme and feel. Character models are brightly-illuminated and frequently pastel, sporting a vaguely cartoonish look that juxtaposes well with the richly-detailed and oftentimes grim environments. Though two-dimensional in gameplay and essential appearance, UG 'n G employs three-dimensional flourishes liberally, adding a polish of realism. Though parallax is an old trick we've all seen before, I'll have to admit that I was impressed with how the effect translated via the PSP's muscle. Meanwhile, the game's audio aims to tap fond old school memories, from an enhanced take on the original's spooky first level theme to the xylophone clatter of Arthur's skeleton when you perish.
It's obvious that Capcom did not merely dig up Ghosts 'n Goblins's bones, dust them off and call it day. Ultimate Ghosts 'n Goblins is lovingly-crafted, rebuilt from the ground up and tailored to be an accessible, enjoyable experience for seasoned knights and apprentices alike.
For the record, by the way, Mouse's PSP is still intact.
prediction
hipsters will soon turn their wonderfully subversive (collective) eye towards bob seger, and will trip over each other in a mad dash to see who can be the first to pretend to hold him in puffed-chested reverence, as with michael mcdonald before him, and steve perry/journey before him. this, in spite of, or perhaps because of, the fact that seger wrote some decent songs.
and a saturday rundown
-generous piece of beth's lemony-chocolate birthday cake with nutter butter sweet peanut butter cracker cookies embedded into the frosting (the nutter butters being a personal adaptation)
-handful upon handful of sour cream and onion cheez-its
-sweet and sour chicken with white rice, spring roll, crab rangoon and fortune cookie
-one cow tail candy
-one small pkg. junior mints
-one small york peppermint pattie
-one no-name chocolate peanut nougat bar
underwhelming so far, but later, making a dinner feast with someone immensely special to me:
-fresh squeezed oj
-big ol' ham with homemade jack daniels/brown sugar glaze
-sausage, apple and pecan cornbread stuffing
-broccoli
-homemade creme brulee with jp licks cake batter ice cream on the side
joy.
jon sells out?
well, not really.
a month ago or so, i got an email from a contact person working for
this marketing group. her company promotes music, movies and videogames online on a grassroots, word-of-mouth level. read somewhere that this approach is called "viral marketing", and i guess the contact chanced upon an old post i wrote on videogames and saw fit to tap me as a carrier on behalf of capcom and one of their latest offerings, 'ultimate ghosts n' goblins' for the psp.
so, the deal is that i write up a short, OBJECTIVE review of the game (based on what i've heard about it, i wouldn't be surprised if i end up complaining that it's hard as balls) and submit the link to the post to the contact. in exchange, i get to keep the copy of the game i use for my review and enjoy whatever resultant blog promotion will come from getting a link through m80.
once i get a chance to actually play the game -- i'm waiting on a friend who works security at my office to loan me a psp, which i was unfortunately unable to get this marketing person to throw in to sweeten our deal -- i'll be posting my brief review of it here.
fin
brian and myself square off in a battle of the insult tees on our last day in denver. if we had switched places, he might've won. might've.
traveling at the speed of kyle at the espn zone in downtown denv.
trying my best to tame a mighty burger at the venerable
carl's jr. as you'll see, though ...
... i had some stiff competition in the competitive eating department.
that's a wrap, folks!
up next: jon sells out?
and then, on the way back to the hotel, we were attacked by scoundrels fishing off of their balcony with a blow-up doll.
and even more partying
create-your-own-caption. go ahead.
post-reception festivities at an uptown denver bar ("the living room"?), strangely regarding a cigarette / conferring with bridesmaid maggie on what exactly it is one does with those things. i like how the camera can freeze and preserve a nanosecond moment (even that's too large a quantity of time, of course, but lacking a wieldier concept ... ) and thereby suggest a story, mood or zany idea that never had any place in reality. with that in mind ...
... take a look at this picture, and tell me who you think i would eventually have a major problem with.
if you said fucking despicable oprah on the left (and not the guy in apparent indignant shock on the right), then DING! DING! DING! DING!
the story here is that the bar was clearing everyone out for closing, save for the group of untouchables pictured above. thinking that they might have some pull with the staff (and that there might even be a good story behind it, or something), i nonchalantly (and peaceably) invited myself to join them.
now, i don't know whether it was the fact that i flirted a little with the girl to my immediate right, or that oprah had some pent-up anger with the world in general over being oprah, but there came a point where oprah decided it would be a good idea to be abrasively condascending to the drunk guy who had had the nerve to so rudely infiltrate their exclusive little mala vista social club.
if there's one thing i can't stand, it's jerks who talk down to friendly drunks.
so, when it became clear what the hell was up, i let loose with a torrent of sarcasm.
me: "you must be SUCH a wonderful and unique person! ... "
her: "as a matter of fact i am ... "
me [interrupting]: "yeah, uh-huh ... OPRAH!"
the next move in defeating oprah was to go grab alex's sister, christine, and return to the scene to point out oprah to her and talk loudly (and sarcastically) about how "glamorous" and "special" and truly great oprah was. hearing about this trick the next day made me proud. maybe even defiantly so.
and more ...
absolutely one of my favorite pics. alex's mom is brimming with so much joy, and is boogieing with such vigor that she's created a distortion of the space/time continuum in the air above her. alex's brother, ed, is a mild-mannered soul who in his spare time also happens to be a kung fu master who could fucking cleave you right in two (i'm not even fucking kidding), and yet even he is overwhelmed by mrs. chu's whirling dervish moves.
a great pic of the groom and best man (and, if you look closely, a good one of dave doing a little lurk).
getting an early start on the next great american novel, hemmingway-style (plastered).
instead of the staid old guestbook, alex and leigh provided a typewriter for friends and family to convey their sentiments. a classy touch.
... and with that, bride and groom recede from the fading present, walking hand-in-hand through the years and into the future of their own making.
next up: i fucking hate oprah
party (i better hurry the hell up here)!!!!!!!!!
hanging with the gang. nothing too special here, save for being one of the two shots in which darcy appears (he's on the left, taking a rare break from behind the camera). told you i'd get to him!
intermission
i heard sheryl crow's "soak up the sun" at the gym this morning.
i do not think sheryl crow needs to soak up any more sun. she looks like a lovingly-basted thanksgiving turkey.
with the closing of that last entry in mind,
i'd like to say that i think that treating the exchange of sacred vows as though it carries doomsday implications is a tired and lazy comic convention, not to mention an unfair one in that it almost invariably avails itself to a stupid, canned macho pretense (e.g., "he just signed his life [and his defining freedom to chase tail] away!"), and so i'll be dispensing with that approach now.
besides, why pussyfoot around saying the obvious: that i love my friend alex -- in his toast, best man elliott described him as 'the craziest asian guy i've ever met', and i would have to agree, and add here that a large part of what makes him special to me is that he always strives to make sure that anyone along for the ride with him is having just as much fun living it up -- and that i'm absolutely overjoyed that he's making a life with a person as kind, supportive and all-around wonderful as leigh.
i remember we talked with leigh's brother mike about how the gut reaction to being involved in serious occasions in which you're expected to keep a straight face, such as being in a wedding party, is to either laugh out loud or start sobbing.
no need for either ... we were all smiles as alex and leigh affirmed their vows and began married life together.
more tomorrow!
opening salvo
i originally thought i'd put together a chronological travelogue and retrospective, but it turns out that would take some time, and seeing how the denver story's already over a week old ... well, i'm gonna hit you with a volley of pictures in installments and do my best to make a little sense of them for ya. no promises, though.
here we go:
lunch on friday with elliott, robin and darcy along 16th street, the main strip that runs through downtown denver. much of what there is to do in denver is situated on it or somewhere close by, which gives the distinct impression (at least to a bostonian like myself) that the general infrastructure has some intelligence to it.
as you can probably tell, the sun was blinding that cloudless day (and for the rest of the weekend). elliott benefitted from shades and some shade, while robin and i (i'm sitting across from him) baked in the relentless rays. i can't account for the scorching status of darcy, the man responsible for this and all the shots that will follow, as he's off-camera. i'll get to him soon enough, though.
kyle and a little 'what, me worry?' pose at the hotel room on friday. it should be noted that as this was an all guys room, every one of us lounged around in wife beaters belching heartily, passing beer gas and trading dirty jokes in between generous handfuls of pork rinds.
in all seriousness though, kyle came through with an extra wife beater for me when i realized with horror that i hadn't thought to pack an undershirt to wear under my tux. a BIG 11th hour save there -- thanks kyle.
dave, steve and michelle caught in a reservoir dogs moment en route to the denver athletic club, where the wedding was to be held. coincidence that we also got a reservoir dogs style shot as part of the professional wedding party photos (the photographer: "walk towards me ... like in reservoir dogs"), or a harbinger of the bloody chaos that we were all in store for? we shall see ...
... and here's the happy couple:
alex, my friend of many years, and his lovely wife, leigh, in one of their first moments of married life.
hope you're ready for a heapin' helping of pictures from the wedding and assorted shots from my denver trip, as well as the alternately goofy/heartfelt exposition that will accompany them, because that's exactly what you'll be getting over the coming days.
we'll begin at the end
because of darcy's able and ample shutterbugging, the only time i felt i needed to snap a shot in denver came when i noticed the above sign as he, kyle, dave and i were squaring things away at the hertz rent-a-car in preparation for heading home.
i doubted that the sign's purpose was to direct people's attention to the water fountain it was stationed above, as the bubbler was very much out in the open to begin with.
the only conclusion i was left with, then, was that the sign is intended to instruct, as in, 'this is what people folks do with a water fountain'.
asinine. *
* pointing out the self-evident stupidity of something in explicit terms is a self-evident act and, well, stupid in the same way in and of itself. **
** this could go on ad infinitum ***
***
thanks to jesse for this (and yes, i'll be back to actual writing soon):
it's 7:45 a.m.,
and i wisely just smoked a cigarette a minute ago, so i'm riding through a mild buzz before i turn in and sleep about 14 straight hours to make up for a weekend of inadequate slumber in denver, and figured i would use this opportunity to post something quick about how one of the last things i saw on the plane an hour ago or so was the video for tina turner and bryan adams's live performance of 'it's only love', and how when tina introduces him, bryan adams kind of duck walks/pogos/fucks his guitar all at once as he approaches the mic, and how then it's like IMMEDIATELY time for the weathered-y bryan adams voice to the fifth power, and he looks like he's about to have a seizure from all the rock passion.
i don't know, it was funny shit. you should probably go ahead and youtube it if you don't believe me.
anyways, darcy took 250+ pictures this weekend (no lie), and once i get a hold of some of them, i'll do a little posting and story telling.
good night.
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