Terrible Cooking

I know today’s post is ridiculously early, but I had to write this before I forgot about it or got too ashamed…

I tried cooking something for my girlfriend tonight, as we were hungry and we needed a complex midnight snack. So, I asked my girlfriend what I could cook her and she found a recipe for Vegetarian Chilli Con Carne (or… essentially, the only thing we could cook with the ingredients we had in the house).

Have I mentioned that I’m both a lousy cook and quite unaware of what my boundaries are when it comes to cooking? I have one meal that I can cook successfully, and it’s mostly cheese. There was no cheese in Vegetarian Chilli Con Carne.

No. Cheese. At. All.

The first sign that something was amiss was that the kitchen and lounge started to steam up. Then, everyone started choking on cinnamon… somehow. My girlfriend tried it, and we eventually had to add two more packets of tomato paste. It cooked, we cooked rice (which turned out reasonably) and eventually, the mix of whatever it was was finished.

Sometimes, rendering your girlfriend speechless with your cooking is a good thing.

This was not one of those times.

It was atrocious.

Horrendously strong. And I’m assuming disgusting… So, I cooked up a little bit of corn and the glamorous complicated snack my girlfriend had was corn and rice… According to her, the corn was perfectly cooked, and I rescued the rice.

She may be being very generous with her compliments, but I kind of don’t want to know.

I really love her and somehow, after my terrible cooking, I think she really loves me.

Crime Thesis

I got asked in a comment what my thesis for university was, and since I had trouble thinking up what to write for the blog tonight, I thought I’d talk about that. Because I’m not going to be doing that for the next eight months…

During my second year at Uni, I took a Crime Fiction class – not because I was particularly interested in studying the genre, but because the lecturer taking the class was (and still is) brilliant, and my girlfriend was also taking the class. And… I was kind of interested in the genre… kind of.

I should eat my words, for I really enjoyed that course – and not just because of the lecturer or the girlfriend, but they certainly helped (I must add that I didn’t list these in the order of how important a factor they were in choosing the class) – and I got to read a lot of books that I really loved. In that class, I read my first Christie (The Murder of Roger Ackroyd) and my first Chandler (The Big Sleep) – which directly affected my thesis idea – as well as Silence of the LambsThe New York Trilogy and The Talented Mr. Ripley, all of which I found fantastic.

Anyway, jump ahead two years, and I got into Honours at Uni, and I decided to base my thesis on Crime Fiction – specifically, the difference in American and British traditions in the genre. I love hard-boiled detective fiction, which is traditionally American – so in my thesis, I want to explore the effects of translating an American tradition (hard-boiled detective and subsequent sub-tropes) into a British environment. There are specific factors that make something work in their country of origin, which doesn’t necessary work in other nations (take all the failed American remakes of British sitcoms which simply copy and pasted the script to disastrous results) and I want to see how I can make certain traditions work in another country.

So I’m researching articles – at the moment I’m reading a really interesting book about the history of crime fiction, which I’m finding really informative, and I’ve also got a whole list of novels to read and films to watch. I’m quite looking forward to this thesis (well… until I actually get to writing it, and then I’m sure I’ll bitch all the time).

If there are any novels/films/text books that you could recommend for me to check out, that’d be most appreciated. Anything could help!

Conventional Weapons

I’ve been listening to the MCR ‘album’ Conventional Weapons quite a lot the past few days – I say ‘album’, as it was an incomplete album that the band shelved.

It’s pretty good, not incredible, but I find that I prefer some parts of some songs over the whole thing – as in, I’ll find some lines that I absolutely love, and then the rest is simply ‘good’.

In any case, I’m just glad to be listening to it. It’s nice and somewhat nostalgic, even if it’s brand new.

Agatha Christie

I knew that picking a crime-fiction-based-thesis was a great idea, if for no other reason than I’d get to read some awesome crime books.

Tonight, I finished Murder on the Orient Express, written by the Queen of Crime, Agatha Christie. I’m a late bloomer when it comes to Christie, having only experienced her works a couple years ago because of Uni, and my current total is three novels and one play, and all have been exciting, interesting and maddeningly challenging when it comes to solving the damn crime.

My score is 0 to 4 when it comes to figuring out who the culprit was. Each time my mind was blown and my feeble attempt at guessing blown completely out the window. I’ve gotten to the point whenever I come up with a guess, I automatically add ‘but I’m probably wrong’ at the end of it.

That said, only once have I found that Christie succumbs to ‘crime convention’ – in The Mousetrap, a victim utters the phrase ‘Oh, it’s you. I didn’t hear you come in,’ while the murderer crept into the room. My instant reaction was to withhold laughter, as I thought the other audience members in the theatre wouldn’t appreciate my chortling at the obviously tense scene, but then a thought struck me.

The Mousetrap is over fifty years old. When it originally came out, it was probably original and never been done before. I suppose it’s just telling of Christie’s ability that she can still keep people guessing decades later.

I cannot wait to wrongly guess the ending to another Christie classic.

Always Write

I need to stop being so lazy and actually write something for a change.

I’ve been ridiculously lax over the Uni-Break and now I’ve jumped in the deep end with all the things I’ve got to write for Uni – including my thesis which is possibly going to kill me. I think I’m in a decent mind frame for it this year, and at least I’m off to a good start.

I’m doing reasonably okay with my readings and I’m trying to keep up to date with them… Yeah, the reading is okay, it’s just the writing part that’s getting me.

My band also had a song writing session today and it just woke me up to how terrible my song writing ability has gotten (not that I thought it was anything special in the first place) – not a single decent lyric entered my head. I’m very tempted to invent my own language to sing in, just so I can get out of writing proper lyrics.

At least it would sound pretty.

An Open Letter to My Chemical Romance

Yesterday, I heard the announcement that My Chemical Romance were disbanding after twelve years, four albums and a hell of a lot of wild gigs. I was tempted to write an immediate blog about it and how I felt, but thankfully, I decided to wait a day, let my emotions stop running wild so I could write my own sort of tribute to the band without regretting it the day after.

In 2001, the band formed. In 2006, they released their third album, The Black Parade. In 2007, I listened to the band for the first time and, almost on a whim, I bought that album and instantly began a joyous affair with the music. To be fair, I should attribute a lot of thanks to Kinky Afro, who got into MCR before me and it was at his influence that I listened to their music… I owe a lot to Kink, he’s gotten me into some incredible bands. Soon after, I was hunting down the back catalog and by the end of the year, I was most fortunate enough to go see the band play live.

To this day, it remains one of the greatest live concert experiences I’ve ever had. I went with two of my friends and the three of us had an insanely amazing time – not only that, but it was the first gig I’d ever been to without my parents or family, so there was that added rush of excitement and independence, being at that show. The band were absolutely incredible. From start to finish, they reaped their way through the crowd, refusing to play at a standard any lower than their personal best and refusing to let the crowd become complacent and stagnant. The ballads were emotional sing-a-longs and those that weren’t demanded nothing less than the audience’s full co-operation and energy. Come the end of the show, my ears were ringing and my feet were hurting, but all I could say was ‘That was fucking awesome.’ And it really, really was. I was surprised I could form the sentences to ask for a T-shirt when I reached the merchandise line, instead of just spurting the above obscenity at the cash register. Perhaps I did and they just knew what I meant.

Incidentally, my much adored MCR T-shirt was worn under my jacket the day I asked my now-girlfriend out, as I thought it might give me confidence (it turns out it did).

I made friends because of this band – conversations that would later lead to great friendship began with ‘Hey, I heard you like My Chem’, and breaking into a random MCR song was a regular occurrence (Kinky Afro’s ability to learn a new song over-night was incredibly useful in that regard).

Not only that, but I’d say that My Chemical Romance were one of the major bands that influenced me to try and listen to new types of bands and new types of music – looking back on it now, I was very closed minded when it came to what I liked, and I think that listening to and appreciating MCR helped me develop my musical taste. Not to mention that the band’s energy and presentation on stage is something that I always aspire to. They get up on stage and they give every song everything they’ve got, expelling every shred of energy that they can spare and giving it to the crowd – I wish I could perform with that intensity; I wish I could connect with a crowd they way that they could.

So… When I heard that the band had decided to end their journey, I was quite upset. It’s easy to make fun of people who react with such sadness when a band splits up – those melodramatic people who claim that their life is over and that there’s nothing left to look forward to in the world, moping and whining and using every emoticon they can get their hands on. It’s easy because it’s so over-the-top. The world isn’t ending. Life is still worth living. It’s not the end of civilisation as we know it.

But, artists and musicians have decided not to create together anymore. And that is something to be sad about. It is something I’m upset about. The unique combination of Gerard Way, Ray Toro, Frank Iero and Mikey Way, bringing together their own musical styles and influences to create something new, has come to an end. Yes, my world is still turning and my life hasn’t ended, but I’m just… upset.

Not at the band for making the decisions they have, but just… Change is always happening and sometimes we like the change, and sometimes we don’t like the change. The break up of My Chemical Romance is a change that I have to get used to. It might take a few listens of Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge to do so.

I know it’s silly to think that this might happen, but in the event that the band actually get to read this…

Gerard, Ray, Frank, Mikey… Thank you.

I’ve heard it said that My Chemical Romance has saved lives, and I think that’s really true. The music you made spoke to a vast number of people for many different reasons, including myself, and I don’t think we can ever thank you enough for what you created and what you gave to us. I hope that myself, and the rest of your fans, have given you the incredible adventure you guys deserved.

I know that your music and your band changed my life in a number of ways, and I don’t think I could ever thank you enough for that. My Chemical Romance was something special, and will always remain so until the end of time (and probably even beyond that).

Whatever you do and wherever you go next, I wish you all the best of luck and that your next great adventure is as good as your last. I’ll definitely be watching and listening and waiting for your next creation.

So long, and goodnight.

Top Ten Favourite Video Games – 1: Final Fantasy IX

I suppose in my naming Final Fantasy IX as my favourite game of all time makes saying ‘I love this game’ quite redundant. But I do; I really, really love this game. From the moment I started playing it, I knew it was going to be my favourite – it was the one.

It’s too easy for me to just say that it’s my favourite because of ‘everything’, so I’ll try hard to give a reasonably constructive statement as to why I love this paragon of game design, as opposed to just gushing over it and lavishing it with praise and gifts of chocolate and the joy of a child’s smile.

Maybe a bit of background: while Final Fantasy VIII was the first FF game I ever played, FFIX was the one that really made me think the series was absolutely incredible and worth looking at every game in the series. But, even then, when I’d only played two games, I just knew that no other game from the series would trump the emotion that I felt when I took my first steps in the Prima Vista, lit the candle and told them my name.

Embarrassing bit of triva – it took me about three tries to actually learn how to play the game properly. See, characters learn abilities and spells and such from equipment, but we’ll come back to that. I rented this game a few times before buying it, and for some reason I ended up having to start over after the first time. So both times I got up to this monster of a boss, Gizamaluke, who absolutely slaughtered my party. Constantly and consistently. Why did he do this? Because I didn’t know that characters needed equipment to learn moves, so I was just barely getting by on the most basic of basic attacks (which, actually sounds kinda impressive in some ways – I got through a decent amount of the first disk without learning any new attacks…). However, after looking it up and realising that I’d been so incredibly stupid, I disposed of the boss easily and continued on the grand adventure.

Why is this relevant? Even though I was getting my arse handed to me by that boss, I still loved playing this game. Even though I was young and stupid and couldn’t play it properly, I still loved playing this game. There’s just something about the game which I can never shake off or forgo.

Final Fantasy IX was the last FF game to be made for the original Playstation before the PS2 was brought out, and as such, became somewhat a tribute to all the games that came before it – paying tribute to the last generation of games before moving onto the newer ones. This meant that everything from character roles and design to random items that you pick up and never use again were references to the other games. For example, the most incredible and amazing character Vivi is a Black Mage with a design that harkens back to the very first Final Fantasy and the original Black Mage character.

That all said, the game transcends all the references and nostalgia to create a complete and strong story of their very own, including what I consider to be the best cast of characters seen in a FF game. There are eight main characters that make up your party, each of them have an interesting and compelling back story (well… except maybe one, which is pretty much comic relief… I used to hate the character when I was younger, but Quina’s definitely grown on me now) and make a useful addition to any battle. It’s very arguable that four of the eight get more focus than the others, but I never minded – I’d much rather see a more concentrated growth and development that for them to try and spread it too thin. It’s not like the others are ignored, they just slip into the background in some moments.

The story takes you all over the world of Gaia, over four very different continents and even to another world entirely. There are twists and turns in the story which always keep you on your toes, and they have a very real effect on our characters, the story and the game play aren’t segregated as much as in other games. For example, the Trance mechanic – in which a character goes into an ultra-fighting state when they’ve taken enough hits – can be triggered by the plot when a character in particularly enraged or emotional, which links the battles much closer to the story. Another section renders a character mute by a traumatising event, and this makes them freak out in battle and unable to perform moves sometimes. As a game mechanic, it gets quite annoying, but as a way of storytelling, I think it’s brilliant.

The villains were so much fun to watch – from the melodramatic to the absolutely terrifying. Characters made themselves so detestable, that battling them became catharsis, and you got desperate in helping your team of players to defeat the horrific foe. Don’t get me started on the monster designs, which were wonderful to look at and still look interesting today, even if graphics have developed further. Speaking of designs, the game captures steam-punk brilliantly, especially in the airships, which look wonderfully Victorian. Oh! And Chocobo Hot and Cold! The most incredibly addictive mini-game in the history of anything, ever! Or Mognet – in which adorable Moogles get you to deliver mail for them. And the romance! Yes, I’m a sucker for romance, but I just loved the way the relationship between Zidane and Dagger was formed, how naturally it grew and… Gah!

I’m sorry, I could just go on and on and on about how much I love this game. From start to finish, across four disks, I just adore this creation.

This isn’t a perfect game. I’ll admit it. It has some faults and some issues, but what game doesn’t? It’s a game that I could pick up at any time and feel exactly as excited the first time I placed the disk in the console – it’s an old friend that I haven’t spoken to in a while, but when I do, the conversation continues from the very sentence we finished on.

Let me end this review and this top ten list with another anecdote from my playing. There’s a section in which you need to rescue as many people as you can from a village which is under siege, and the amount of survivors at the end depend on decisions you make and facts you need to remember from earlier in the game. I played this section, trying my best to avoid the enemies and get people out okay – some people were lost, but I continued anyway. At the end of the section, the survivors sit at the top of the village and give you items. My thoughts weren’t about which items I was receiving, my thought was a very despaired ‘… I only saved eight?’ And I’m not talking ‘I could have gotten more items from this’, I’m talking, practically in tears at the thought that I didn’t save as many fictional characters as I could have.

I know it’s stupid and I know I’m probably over reacting, but the almost haunting thought that I only saved eight people from that village still crosses my mind all these years later. Eight people… When a game’s done that, it’s done something right.

And Final Fantasy IX? Gets full marks in my books.

Top Ten Favourite Video Games – 2: Portal 2

I find that every time I include a sequel on this list, I have to defend why I prefer the sequel to the original – and it’s interesting that I much prefer sequels to games than to films (at least, I think it’s interesting). However, with this game in particular, I feel that I desperately need to defend my choices, as it is a sequel to one of the most beloved games in the history of anything ever.

No one expected Portal to be anything more than an extra game to the Orange Box, but it was easily the most popular and (arguably) the most critically acclaimed part of the game package. It was concise, exactly the right length and provided us with the greatest video game villain of all time. Three things made Portal a near-perfect game: the mechanics, the writing and GLaDOS – solving puzzles with portals brought us brilliant game play while the writing made us laugh and quote incessantly, brought to us by the excellent, practically unseen villain. It was brilliant, and still is.

So why did I prefer the sequel? Well… I kind of blame the fan-base. Not really, but hear me out. I played the game quite a few years after it was brought out, and all the twists, shocks and (of course) the line ‘The Cake Is A Lie’ were all ruined for me. I enjoyed the game, as it is a piece of brilliance, but I wasn’t surprised by everything that I should have been – it’s like trying to watch The Crying Game when you already know the ending, it’s just a big countdown to the twists etc.

The sequel, I got the day it came out and I couldn’t put it down until I had finished it. And I didn’t see anything coming. There were about three brilliant twists that took me completely unawares as I was just so engrossed in the world. Not to mention the fact that it did get much bigger than the original, but it did it so amazingly well – the cast was boosted from one to three and each character was a piece of brilliance; hilarious, original and memorable. We got to explore Aperture Laboratories at its absolute worst, from top to bottom, and every inch of the game was fantastic.

I felt like I went through every emotion during this game – I was terrified, I was overwhelmed, I was overjoyed and I was tearful. In fact, the last five seconds of the game bring me to tears every time I see it. It’s beautiful. The whole game is beautiful, and I think it’s such an achievement of gaming.

The writing was simply sublime. The Portal games have an incredible way of making you feel for characters who aren’t people – robots and pre-recorded voices are all that guide you along your trek – and the one character that is a person is completely silent the entire way through, but I was desperate to make sure Chell got through it okay.

I haven’t played the co-op mode all the way through, but what I have done has been some of the most joyous game play I’ve experienced. The solutions to some of the puzzles are simply ingenious.

I don’t think I can praise this game any more – I thought it was a wonderful experience and I love playing it again and again and again.

Number one? Find out tomorrow.