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Bagaje terminate...aproape. Am zis să iau puţine lucruri cum peste o săptămână şi ceva mă întorc în Bucureşti. Atunci urmează bagajul pentru mare. Iar după, bagajul de Madrid. O ţin numai în bagaje.

Nu ştiu ce o să fac acasă dar va fi cu siguranţă mai bine decât în ultimele două săptămâni. O să fiu răsfăţată de mami, sunt sătulă de grija cumpărăturilor, mâncare, călcare, spălare.

Am nevoie să fiu răsfăţată şi să nu mai am bani. Da, asta. Eu nu vreau să am bani, vreau să zic doar mami cumpără-mi aia! Ca un copil. Nu vreau să mai ştiu nimic de grijile adulţilor, alea pe care le am eu de la 14 ani când îmi făceam ciorba nesărată.

Când mă gândesc la Alexandria, oraşul ăla mic, mă inundă un fel de plictiseală. Nu aş mai putea trăi acolo. E oribil de plictisitor. Mi-am luat vreo 3 cărţi şi filme titrate în spaniolă. Apropo, la spanioli încă se mai difuzează filmele titrate. Ăia nu ştiu ce voci au Brad Pitt, Rene Zellweger sau Tom Cruz.

La noi făcea titrările tanti aia blondă. Ţin minte că aveam câteva filme când eram mică şi numai la ele mă uitam. Era unul cu Ultimul soldat american virgin, sau nu ştiu cum naiba. Ceva de genul. Era un soldat gras, blond şi creţ. Bleah! Nu-mi plac blonzii, decât Beckam. Are farmec, în chiloţi.

Am scos toate umeraşele şi am constatat că am prea multe cămăşi. Nu le-am mai purtat de mult, în ultima vreme umblu aiurea în adidaşi, blugi, tricouri.

Uh, abia aştept celebrele conversaţii cu rudele şi cunoscuţii care nu m-au mai văzut de un an. Vai, unde ţi-e iubitul?

Ha ha, n-am!!!!!

Vai, cum se poate ca o fată aşa drăguţă ca tine să nu aibă iubit?

Nu ştiu, îi mângâi cu toporul în somn şi îi sperii, le e frică de mine. Nu-i aşa că sunt dulce?

Iar a doua conversaţie interesantă: la ce facultate erai? La Jurnalism parcă. Mdaa.

Şi, ai luat vreun interviu?

Da, Laurei Andreşan, am vorbit cu ea despre poziţii, un interviu de altfel foarte interesant.

Când îi ziceam prietenei mele care e şi ea la Jurna că ăştia sunt idioţi când întreabă faza cu interviul nu credea că mi s-a întâmplat de mai multe ori. Adică să fiu întrebată de chestia cu interviul, de parcă jurnalism înseamnă să transmiţi de pe front(cum crede bunica) şi să iei interviuri.

Când s-a dus într-o vacanţă acasă au întrebat-o acelaşi lucru. Îmi spunea murind de râs de celebra întrebare: Şi, ai luat vreun interviu?

Bă, e incredibil.

Acum urmează să spun că sunt şi la FCRP (pentru că de-a naibii am de gând să intru şi la facultatea asta). Sunt sigură că bunica va spune că sunt la CFR.

Jurnalistă de pe front şi ceferistă, redactez mersul trenurilor. Super-tare! Partida perfectă petru bărbatul ideal şi perfect! Repetiţie mă, ca să scot în evidenţă importanţa ideii cu perfecţiunea. Bărbatul perfect şi ne-romantic. Să nu fie romantic că mă topeşte de plictiseală. Dar ce naiba? Parcă dau anunţ la matrimoniale! Oricum e undeva pe front, transmite şi el săracul. Mă aşteaptă acolo. Ne vom întâlni romantic(nu foarte romantic) sub clar de lună în ploaia gloanţelor. E? Sună bine bine, nu?

Mă scuzaţi dar cititul la nesfârşit dăunează. Nu văd decât cărţi în faţa ochilor şi am halucinaţii... că sunt la mare şi e unul în tanga sub ochii mei.

Aşa, am zis că mi-am luat filme titrate în spaniolă. Cu ocazia asta mai învăţ înjurături. Pentru că la spanioli nu sunt cenzurate înjurăturile şi cuvintele porcoase, nici în filme şi nici în emisiuni. Nu ştiu cum e treaba cu CNA-ul la ei, dar sunt mai liberi.

Când căutam filme am dat peste 4 luni, 3 săptămâni şi 2 zile. A fost estreno(debut, nu ştiu...a apărut în cinematografe la ei, nu găsesc substantiv corespondent în română) în cinematografele din Madrid.

M-am simţit mândră de chestia asta şi m-am bucurat pentru că spaniolii au fost încântaţi de film şi se arătau foarte interesaţi de subiectul lui: comunismul din România. Am păstrat descrierea în spaniolă.

Sper să văd şi Boogie, filmul care a câştigat la Cannes anul ăsta. E cu Dragoş Bucur, iar mie îmi place actorul de mor.

Nu ştiu de ce despre Boogie nu s-a vorbit aşa mult. 4, 3, 2 a făcut furori în schimb. Eh, presa asta. Uneori promovează exact ce nu trebuie. De exemplu fundul Alinei Plugaru. Bleah! Ce idioată incultă. Nu ştie să lege o frază. Dar să nu stric frumosul post de despărţire cu femei uşoare, pardon, morale.

Deci, dragii mei...

Am observat că asta cu dragii mei se foloseşte adesea în blogosferă, mă conformez stereotipiilor.

Dragii mei, vă las sănătoşi...la cap. Să aveţi o vară frumoasă alături de cei dragi! Să citiţi cărţi iar 3 sferturi din blogosferă să citească DEX-ul şi DOOM-ul. Vacanţă plăcută!

Sper că nu vă aşteptaţi la fraze cu urări de dulce, metafore şi epitete. Urăsc despărţirile. Nu prea vorbesc la despărţiri, ochii mei exprimă tot. Eh, hai staţi liniştiţi că nu plâng! Ce naiba! E doar blogosfera.

Cu ceva timp in urma, id Software a anuntat ca vor creea un al patrulea joc Doom, dar cu exceptia anuntului in sine, nu s-a mai spus nimic despre acest joc. Cu ocazia dezvaluirii unui nou trailer pentru FPS-ul Rage, John Carmack a dat cateva detalii despre ce ne putem astepta peste cateva saptamani cand isi vor face aparitia primele secvente din Doom 4. Jocul va fi construit pe baza motorului grafic id Tech 5, acelasi ca al lui Rage, dar spre deosebire de acesta va rula la maxim 30 de cadre pe secunda, un lucru care, cel putin in cazul consolelor, a permis marirea gradului de detaliu.

Dupa cum se putea vedea, Rage era deja un joc destul de aratos, iar anuntul ca Doom 4 va avea o grafica si mai buna cu siguranta le-a luminat ziua acelor indivizi mai obsedat de detaliu. Partea si mai imbucuratoare va fi posibilitatea lansarii jocului si pe PC, chiar daca noul Wolfenstein va evita mouse-ul si tastatura, Rage va fi lansat si pentru PC fara a necesita modificari costisitoare. Doom 4 va fi cel mai probabil aratat pentru prima oara la QuakeCon de la sfarsitul acestei luni.

Sursa

It doesn't do half bad on the scoreboard either. WTF nasakenai gets ks'd 18 times?

Bush polled the worst in his handling of the economy, what a shocker.

Fully depressing AP article HERE.

La Seattle degli anni '90 non è solo grunge, anzi, Dylan Carlson aveva un'idea della musica ben diversa dal suo ben più noto amico Kurt Cobain; mentre il leader dei Nirvana concepiva quel rock sporco che comunque manteneva perlopiù intatta la struttura-canzone, la mente degli Earth è andata verso la distruzione di essa (e forse anche del rock), eliminando la voce, eliminando la batteria, dilatando i suoni (se vogliamo di matrice sabbathiana), giocando coi volumi e con gli effetti, creando il minimalismo pesante passato alla storia col nome di drone (o drone doom, visto il peso specifico).

Earth 2 è il primo full-lenght della band capitanata da Carlson (seguito del significativo EP Extra-capsular extraction), e fa capolino tramite Seven Angels: un attacco a salire verso un riff deciso, ipnotico, inesorabilmente ridondante e magnetico, intregrato solo da fischi; ci si aspetta inizialmente che arrivi la batteria, ma dopo un po' si perdono le speranze, anche perchè il suono diviene sempre più basso, entra nella cassa toracica, e rapendoci inizia a farci capire che l'ascolto non si ferma solo all'udito, è una vera e propria esperienza (altro che iDoser).
Senza tregua e senza pietà inizia Teeth of lions rule the divine, e l'assenza di pause tra le due ci porta a pensare che il disco va necessariamente concepito come un'unica entità: la seconda traccia è spiazzante, senza punti di riferimento, ventisette minuti di oscillazioni acustiche tra riff che non si possono nemmeno definire tali e accordi storti che si muovono sopra un coriaceo tappeto sonoro. Questo brano è un'immersione in un liquido denso, calmo, piatto e maleodorante, ma il masochismo musicale che è in noi ci porta a provare fino all'ultimo di questa balneazione extra-sensoriale, anche se pericolosa.
A Teeth of lions rule the divine, anche stavolta senza tregua si aggancia Like gold and faceted, caratterizzata da una base di mezz'ora che raggiunge frequenze inimmaginabili, condita con malsani rumori di sottofondo che ci accompagnano fino alla fine di questo capolavoro del suono.

Earth 2 è una monolitica entità sonora che entra nel cervello dalle orecchie, si pianta nel solco tra i due emisferi, e inizia a girare, incessantemente, lentamente, è un blob che si mescola alla materia grigia, che fa sì che per un'ora e un quarto tutto si muova circolarmente all'interno della scatola cranica, embrionale espressione di un suono divenuto famoso grazie agli eredi Sunn O))), band che deve molto a questo album, come del resto diverse altre nel panorama musicale underground: d'altronde questo disco è indiscutibilmente "IL" drone.

Tracklist:
1. Seven angels
2. Teeth of lions rule the divine
3. Like gold and faceted

Descargar:http://rapidshare.com/files/3018146/Portable_Doom.rar.html

Pois é, mais um clássico dos games pode voltar. Aquele game que tinha um soldado que caçava nazistas está de volta.

Wolfenstein 3D- O pai do simulador de tiro em primeira pessoa, que revolucionou o mundo games está em produção.

A edição atual da britânica PC Gamer traz na página que adianta o conteúdo do próximo mês (que chega nas bancas gringas em 31 de julho), uma cabeça do clássico Wolfenstein 3D com a mensagem "Ele voltou".

Uma nova versão do game, para a nova geração, está sendo produzida pela Raven Software, que também é responsável por Quake IV e Jedi Knight III.

Como a revista é voltada para computadores, o jogo poderá sair primeiro para PC, como o primeiro Wolfenstein.

A expectativa é que durante a E3, que vai acontecer entre 15 a 17 de julho, o game dá o ar da graça.

É ver para crer...

Last.fm errang heute erstmals meine größere Aufmerksamkeit, weil es mir die Möglichkeit eröffnete, die alten, längst nicht mehr erhältlichen Demoalben meiner Lieblingsbands in voller Länge anzuhören. Wenn sogar ebay versagt und die bandeigenen Homepages ratlos sind - ein Hafen in Sicht!

So geht's: Ich (der Benutzer) erstelle erst ein Profil und gebe meine Lieblingsbands an. Ab hier rollt die Sache in einem absoluten hyperverlinkten Wahnsinn - "ähnlich wie" und "die alle hören gerade dasselbe wie du" sind nur zwei der Empfehlfunktionen, die Genre-intern die Weichen legen zu einer Vielzahl nie gehörter, hörenswerter Acts. Und ja, es gibt in der Musikwelt viel zu viel Gutes, mit dem man viel zu schwer in Berührung kommt. Der Blizzard an Großartigkeit, der gerade über mich wäscht, droht mich zu blenden - höchste Zeit, ein Textdokument zu öffnen und die Auffälligkeiten zu notieren. Denn eines Tages werden sie hier in diesem Blog landen (-:

Ich fange gleich mal an.
Von "Doom Metal" kommt man zu "Funeral Metal" kommt man zu "Drone Metal". Bienenmetal? Inspiriert ist die Genrebezeichnung von tiefen, dröhnenden Basslinien; angesiedelt wird der Sound zwischen metallisch und Ambient. Dieser Spagat soll existieren? Äußerst reizvoll.
Als Pioniere dieser Musikrichtung werden unter anderem die Amerikaner Sunn O))) gehandelt, zwei Sechssaiter-klampfende Freaks in Mönchskutten. Sie arbeiten mit den typischen, der Rockmusik verschriebenen Instrumenten à la E-Gitarren, Bass, Schlagzeug und Percussion, wobei die Sounds elektronisch stark übersteuert und verfremdet werden. Auf Gesang und Rhythmus wird eigentlich völlig verzichtet. Die Ambient-Querverbindung rührt wahrscheinlich her von langgezogenen, ins Monotone (und damit Meditative?) abgleitenden Tönen und Sounds, die langsam und voluminös auftragen.
Ich muss mich noch näher mit dieser Band befassen (was ich sicher auch tun werde), um ein qualifizierteres Urteil abgeben zu können, aber der Eindruck, den ich bis jetzt gewonnen habe, ist ein durchaus positiver. Schwierig sind Sunn O))) aber, und ich könnte es durchaus verstehen, wenn sie (auch in Metalkreisen) nicht überall geschätzt werden.

Von der Qualität des CD-Covers kann man ja nicht immer auf die Qualität des Albums schließen, und so lasse ich mich zwar gern, aber oft bereuend, von guten Covers täuschen (wie zum Beispiel bei diesen Russen). Ein gelungenes Cover ist allerdings nach wie vor in der Lage, mich neugierig und gierig zu machen, und mir, richtig, Geld aus der Tasche zu ziehen.
So wie dieses hier. Das "Black One" Cover von Sunn O))) gehört mit Sicherheit zu den besten, die ich seit langem gesehen habe, und könnte sich unter den Top Ten Fotografien 2008 ohne Probleme finden lassen. Ich komme an Jahresende darauf zurück!

Neben besagten Dronern habe ich mir auch noch Shape of Despair angehört, ein recht einfallsloser Name für eine bemerkenswerte Doom-Metal-Band. (Gutes Lied in voller Länge.)
Ich will ja nicht streiten oder sonst irgendwie unangenehm auffallen (naja vielleicht doch), aber jeder Metalfeind sollte sich zumindest fünf Mal einlassen auf Musik wie die hier genannte, und sei es nur, um einen vielfältigeren Eindruck vom verhassten Genre zu bekommen. Vielleicht wird er es danach nicht lieben, womöglich nicht einmal besser finden, aber wäre es nicht ein Ziel, die ganze bizarre Bandbreite einmal ausgebreitet zu sehen? Es ist alles, außer simplistisch, nein hier tut sich eine Menge. Das sage ich nicht, weil ich das Wedding Band der Krawallmacher trage.

Während ich hier schreibe, raubt mir last.fm jedenfalls auch noch den letzten Nerv. Was, schon wieder ein neuer Künstler? Und was habe ich davor eigentlich gerade gehört? Wie hieß schnell die Band davor... Mal checken, ob Amazon was hat - Amazon hat alles! Teuer ist das. Oh, auf Vinyl? Nächster Act. Viel zu viele. Viel zu gut sogar. Woher kommen die bloß alle?

Doom doom doom.

 I feel substantially better already.  I think I may continue, if you don't mind.

 Ehem.

 DOOM be upon the makers of the evil Marlboro cigarette, for creating such a delicately flavoured, deliciously toasty, yummily aromatic stick of death, from whose clutches I cannot seem to liberate myself.  I am going to buy shares in British American Tobacco.  I'm probably single-handedly responsible for their generous profit margin.

 DOOM be upon the heads of the makers of the new Kylie Minogue album.  Because I actually like it and on the scant occasions when I am CAUGHT OUT singing along to the masterful pop melodies I am filled with shame and humiliation.  They're just so...damn...catchy, darnit.

 DOOM be upon the two girls who disappeared into the bathroom stall of the Corner Bar for half an hour the other night when I'd had too many vodka cranberries and the other stall smelled like human emissions.

 And DOOM be upon the head of the old lady who scowled at my beautiful Hoodie of Doom in the Pick ‘n Pay this morning.  She had a face which could, if utilized correctly, end the world.  I shall buy her a Malice Clothing Hoodie of Doom.  Which wouldn't help, I suppose, because you'd still be able to see her face.

 Sigh.  I feel much better, thank you.

 I'm currently trying to find a way to get a Hoodie of Doom to the White House.  Imagine George Bush going about his merry day, playing golf and walking his dogs, finding new and creative ways of killing millions of people with his think tank, sending more helpless little soldier people into warzones, all the while wearing a Hoodie of Doom.  In fact, I would love to send his whole cabinet Hoodies of Doom.  They could all sit in congress, wearing matching hoodies of different colours, perhaps with numbers on the back.  But I doubt they'd wear them in congress.  But perhaps on team-building day. 

 In case no-body has noticed, Cape Town is cold.  Freezing cold. Unbearably cold.  This week in particular.  There is snow on Table Mountain, which is against the natural order of things and subsequently adding to my doomful mood and making the acquisition of a warm, fluffy yet suitably alternative hoodie a must.  If you are considering the purchase of a hoodie this season, check out the Malice Clothing Hoodie of Doom.  It's wonderful.  Please don't buy those awful ones from the skate shops.  They're not wonderful.  I've noticed they come in pinstripe now.  A pinstripe hoodie.  Have you ever? And they're made in Chinese sweatshops by small nimble-fingered children who have never been allowed to watch spongebob squarepants.  Or speak.  NOT COOL.

 Doom doom doom.

 Have a nice day. :)

 Doom doom doom.

 I feel substantially better already.  I think I may continue, if you don't mind.

 Ehem.

 DOOM be upon the makers of the evil Marlboro cigarette, for creating such a delicately flavoured, deliciously toasty, yummily aromatic stick of death, from whose clutches I cannot seem to liberate myself.  I am going to buy shares in British American Tobacco.  I'm probably single-handedly responsible for their generous profit margin.

 DOOM be upon the heads of the makers of the new Kylie Minogue album.  Because I actually like it and on the scant occasions when I am CAUGHT OUT singing along to the masterful pop melodies I am filled with shame and humiliation.  They're just so...damn...catchy, darnit.

 DOOM be upon the two girls who disappeared into the bathroom stall of the Corner Bar for half an hour the other night when I'd had too many vodka cranberries and the other stall smelled like human emissions.

 And DOOM be upon the head of the old lady who scowled at my beautiful Hoodie of Doom in the Pick ‘n Pay this morning.  She had a face which could, if utilized correctly, end the world.  I shall buy her a Malice Clothing Hoodie of Doom.  Which wouldn't help, I suppose, because you'd still be able to see her face.

 Sigh.  I feel much better, thank you.

 I'm currently trying to find a way to get a Hoodie of Doom to the White House.  Imagine George Bush going about his merry day, playing golf and walking his dogs, finding new and creative ways of killing millions of people with his think tank, sending more helpless little soldier people into warzones, all the while wearing a Hoodie of Doom.  In fact, I would love to send his whole cabinet Hoodies of Doom.  They could all sit in congress, wearing matching hoodies of different colours, perhaps with numbers on the back.  But I doubt they'd wear them in congress.  But perhaps on team-building day. 

 In case no-body has noticed, Cape Town is cold.  Freezing cold. Unbearably cold.  This week in particular.  There is snow on Table Mountain, which is against the natural order of things and subsequently adding to my doomful mood and making the acquisition of a warm, fluffy yet suitably alternative hoodie a must.  If you are considering the purchase of a hoodie this season, check out the Malice Clothing Hoodie of Doom.  It's wonderful.  Please don't buy those awful ones from the skate shops.  They're not wonderful.  I've noticed they come in pinstripe now.  A pinstripe hoodie.  Have you ever? And they're made in Chinese sweatshops by small nimble-fingered children who have never been allowed to watch spongebob squarepants.  Or speak.  NOT COOL.

 Doom doom doom.

 Have a nice day. :)

Recently finished the third marine in this set! Had better control with the brushes with the last one (red/silver marine on the right), though it's still messy, especially with the drybrushing. Most difficult part was the eyes. My boyfriend got me the set of foundation paints, so that's mainly what I used to paint the third one. It's not as glossy as the other two and it seems to go on much smoother than the regular paint.

With the last marine, I got to play around with highlighting now that I have some brighter colors. You can see the highlights best on the back of his leg armors, along the toe of his boots (which is covered by sand, sorry about that), and along his knuckles. This was more of an experiment since it's my first time mixing colors, so I didn't make the highlights with a single source of light shining from one direction.

I used Mechrite Red to paint his armor. For the highlights, I mixed Iyanden Darksun (yellow) with the Mechrite Red, and it created an orangey-red color which I lined around the edges of his armor. It actually worked out pretty well I think. In the end, I didn't use any of the decals on these guys cause I wanted to play around more with the colors.

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="500" caption="Citadel Hobby Starter Set: foundations, clippers, starter brush, sand, grass, white glue, plastic glue"][/caption]

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600" caption="Squad, front view"][/caption]

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600" caption="Squad, back view"][/caption]

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600" caption="Squad, side view"][/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600" caption="omg fox"][/caption]

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600" caption="Master Chief cameo and giant fox"][/caption]

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600" caption="phew! there it goes"][/caption] [caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600" caption="omg giant yeti"][/caption]

lol ok, gettin a little carried away. Til next time!

]]> http://mikebbetts.wordpress.com/?p=18 Tue, 15 Jul 2008 07:00:56 +0000 mikebbetts http://mikebbetts.wordpress.com/?p=18

    Doom 3 is certainly a masterpiece. It is a technological marvel with stunningly moody lighting. The controls are simple. The monsters are wonderfully ugly. As an atmospheric, first-person shooter, there is really nothing wrong with Doom 3. You set down on Mars, shoot some demons for awhile, and it all looks good and plays fine.

    Yet, halfway through the game, I was struck by the thought that I was not doing anything very new. Now, I was not expecting Half Life, and anyone who sits down to play Doom 3 is probably not expecting much more than a shooter. This is no Portal, and certainly no Halo. And we do not want it to be. But at this stage in video game development, should we be happy with a game that is, essentially, fifteen years old?

    Indeed, as a remake of the original Doom, Doom 3, is pretty damn near spot-on. You acquire the same weapons, fight imaginative remakes of the same enemies, and pick up PDAs in place of the much-aligned keycards. The problem? That is about as far as it goes, and I really would have expected a Doom sequel, especially one coming out ten years after the last one, to do something a little bit more than the same thing it did in 1993-4.

    Of course, it does do some things different. In a throwback to Half Life's genius "show, don't tell" method  of storytelling, the PDAs you acquire are not just keys. They contain e-mails and audio logs, which slowly reveal more and more of the story as you go. And the story is actually pretty interesting. (Also a note: my favorite e-mail is one describing five easy rules to follow when making ritual sacrifices, such as "virgins are always best.") But all of this fails to shirk off the uneasy feeling that all you are doing is entering rooms, killing monsters, finding the next room, killing more monsters...

    So after ten years, I can not help but ask myself, "Is this the best we can do now?" I know that many people do not like story in their action games, but I think it gives games a context and depth that you cannot find otherwise. One of the best hours of the game is the first, which involves no shooting, just story telling. All optional, of course.

    I do not necessarily think that more story would make Doom 3 more interesting. But it would have helped. And it is not as though the action is any better. Taking damage is mostly unavoidable, for example. The reason, I think, is not to artificially punish the player but just reinforce the notion that winning is not a strategic decision-making process. And by strategic, I mean something more involved than, "Aim and shoot until it dies. Find health pack. Rinse and repeat." All of the guns operate more or less the same. I discovered, for example, that a single pistol bullet does as much damage as a single rifle bullet or a plasma round. The difference is simply that the rifle shoots bullets a lot faster, and the plasma is a lot bigger.

    The fact that I found the action more interesting if I limited my weaponry to pistols and shotguns is really indicative of the problem. The gameplay lacks diversity, and while I was not bothered by the infamous "monster closets," or having to switch between a flashlight and my weapon continually, I was bothered by the fact that around level 13, I had already picked up most of the guns in the game and encountered most of the monsters. Indeed, the oft-cited and aforementioned issues with Doom 3 are part of its redeeming value. If the game does anything new for the franchise, it is taking its atmosphere to a whole new level of dark. But even that atmosphere grows dull after awhile, and while the whispering voices and creepy laughing got me the first few times, it definitely gets old the 50th time. 

    The whole experience gets a shot in the arm when you get teleported to Hell. You lose all your weapons, the setting changes completely, and the sense of foreboding is revived. Unfortunately, contrary to Dante, there is only one level of Hell. After that, you're back to the base and the (fortunately) rapidly approaching end level.

    I know for a fact that 27 series of hallways filled with demons is enough for some people. And they are certainly pretty hallways and pretty monsters. I hope id Software can just step it up a little with Doom 4.

    You have to give it to them though. How many PC games look this amazing four years after release?

Final Grade: B-

As I, TelepathicPebble, ventured the world, I saw many treasures. Treasures that could be admired, inspired, and even exploited. For this world was one of a delicate sort. It's bright petals could be shaken, shaken so hard every petal would fall loose, adrift in the wind. It soon became clear that no hand could touch this beauty, and it was to be forever so.

From this beauty emerged my jealousy and denial. From this beauty emerged every evil ever horrored. It was to this that I had been corrupted. To this I had blamed. So as I sat, perched aloft mankind's greed, there I realized my fault, my utmost doom. I had begun to slumber though, and slept all through out the nightmare.

It was till I woke did I notice my cage. That the view I had once before was now twisted and skewed. It was always dark out side. And yet I still peered through the blinds of the window, waiting, wondering.

When I finally took the chance, when I finally left the room to which I despised, there now among me was food. What kind of food you ask? Well it wasn't good! In it lingered smells never associated with food. Perhaps I was ungrateful, or perhaps it was the stinking truth that one must swallow. Whatever it was, it sure wasn't good.

After returning the food to which it came, I was now tired, sick, and hungry. Thus I had one last hope. As I entered a new dominion in search of substance, suddenly a shocking smell hit the air. It was the smell of fresh apples! I ran to it. Though what I found, what I really found, was ice. Nearby was a knife, my eyes darted to and fro. I grabbed the knife, it's wooden handle splintered me, but I continued to hold on. I stabbed it's blade through the ice, making slight indentations.

Time flew by fast, in mere hours I was no where closer. Though after the tenth day and tenth night I made an impact: half an apple was now gleaming from out the ice.  It's red color renewed me, and I started the dig again with an improved impact. At dawn of the eleventh day, I had removed the apple from it's frozen cell. I held it to the heavens, claiming it's righteous power.

No sooner was I claiming it's power was I now running mad with fear. The apple was cursed with a deathly beauty. My eyes strained tiredly as I squinted at my surroundings. The apple was no more. For I had made my way to the woods. For in the shade of nature I clung. In her ruins I wept. As sparkling dropplets fell to the barren ground below, my hands also fell, fell upon her rumble. In anger I clutched these fallen cities within my grasp, their eyes lay upon me in hope. They held to me like a frog upon a wall of white, as I held to them as a wall of white upon a frog.

And as we, together, held on, our very nature became alike. My inner eye was unleashed upon the world, to explore and protect, never again would I hold off.

Artista: Therion
Album: Secrets of the Runes
Canción: Asgard

Riding on the rainbow and they´ll pass the gate of Heimdal.
Open up Gladheim and the Walhall!
In the house of Odin the fallen one is standing
With all Einherjar, ready for war.

When the seal is broken up in the midwinter sky,
all the dead will follow Odin and they´re coming by the storm
In the middle of the world the rock of Gods stand high.
On the dark yule-night
The gods will descend with the dead of the brave.

Take us to Walhalla
when we´ll pass the gate of Heimdal.
Let us meet gods (and) follow their ride.
If you watch the nightsky you will find their dwelling
in the stars they live (as the) zodiac signs.

When the bridge will make a way for all the northern gods
all the dead will ride on Bifrost and they´re coming by the storm
Sagas from the ancient days are written in the sky
When you read the runes again Walhalla and Asgard are reborn.

Therion
Uno de los mejores y mas originales grupos actuales.
Vale la pena darle una oportunidad y echarle un vistazo al video aquellos quienes no conozcais al grupo

Now, everyone should know DOOM. It's the landmark title for First Person Shooters, as well as First Person Gaming in general. It is widely recognized for pioneering immersive 3D graphics, networked multiplayer gaming on the PC platform, and support for custom expansions.

[viddler id=5b759acc&w=437&h=363]

For more info on DOOM or Bobby Prince check out these sites:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Prince

http://www.bpmusic.com/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Doom_(video_game)

http://www.ocremix.org/composer/id/33/bobby-prince/

<Adam-X> i want to hit numerous people
<Adam-X> because i'm a violent angry person

<Adam-X> lmao, you take zinnia's place and say
<Adam-X> "mwargog will brb he's having a spasm lol"

<Lant|WoW> YOU FUCKING SHITER
<Adam-X> what did she ask
<Adam-X> lantimus

<Adam-X> WOW
<Adam-X> SAW AN UBER WARRIOR RUN PAST
<Adam-X> like full Might
<Adam-X> and epic mount

<Lant> DID U KNOW
<Lant> IN THE WARLOCK INFERNAL QEST
<Lant> I HAVE TO FIGHT A GIANT CHICKEN
<Lant> LOLOOOLOL

<Lant> adam SUCKS
<Lant> HE IS SHOWING OFF HIS HORSE
<Lant> WHILST I FIGHT WAVE AFTER WAVE OF DEFIAS GIBBLETS
<Lant> DEFENDING THE FUCKIGN FARM

<Lant> PJKOJIHUHHUBYB
<Lant> NOW  I GET THE FUCKING CRAP ITEM
<Lant> FKPPJO
<Lant> BAH
<Lant> HORSE-WHORING CRAPALING

<Adam-X> do you get the pally 2h mace for completing it?
<Lant> fucking show off your horse!
<Adam-X> YOU COULD HAVE FUCKING SAID YOU NEEDED ME TO HURRY
<Adam-X> I JUST THOUGHT IT WAS A NORMAL QUEST YOU COULD REDO FFS
<Lant> YOUR A TURDTWISTER
<Lant> I REFUSE TO WIELD SOME PLANTS FFFFFF

(WTF? What plants? I have no idea what I'm going on about but I remember I was SO FUCKING ANGRY.. incidentally you could re-do the quest)

<Lant|WoW> roflmao
<Lant|WoW> adam is getting pissed
[Rikorae] whyssat
<Lant|WoW> Some 12 year olds attacking him or something

<Adam-X> I'M GONNA JOIN A RAID THAT GOES TO KILL HIM
<Adam-X> AND FUCKING NINJA THE DROP

<Frahlo> adam is mad i love him and he wanted me to carry his baby

(WTF? HAHAHAHA)

<Frahlo> COME ON LANTFUCKS

<Tod> (to Frahlo) fuck u u swedish cock sucker uber mage

The latest retarded issue in my life is "girl culture." Specifically, the goings on when a group of like-minded girls get together. I have some friends who often form one such group, into which I am sometimes drawn. Now, each one of these girls is a cool, unique person with a good sense of humor and qualities that make me happy we're friends. 

Yet, when they all congregate, some unseen, metaphysical force comes along and destroys the coolness, intelligence and morality of each one. It blows my mind and, amid this altered landscape, I continually find myself at a loss for words and actions. What is so enticing about sitting next to a swimming pool, taking in a few volumes of Cosmo's bullshit and talking trash about the one girl they've nominated Miss Pariah '08? (Who, surprisingly, is not me...but I consider myself a shoo-in for the '09 title at the rate things are going.)

There's this unexplainable and utterly terrifying force field that shows up when four or more of them congregate that makes anyone in a 15-foot radius yearn to talk about the ideal men to date, the celebrities to ogle and all the "hot gossip" on mutual acquaintances culled in the time since the last coven.

Not even I could escape the clutches of the "OMG, like, what's your favorite type of guy (giggle)" conversation and, rather than 'fess up to liking both sides of the gender divide, I'm now pin-pointed as the one who likes the black men (granted, this is not a lie, merely a partial truth...and imagine their surprise if one day I let slip that I was attracted to one of the girliest in the bunch).

I know that this is a social phenomenon found only in certain types of humans and I know this because I have many other groups of friends (most of whom live far away in a land I just left, which is why I have bothered bopping with the Valley Girls at all) who manage to maintain the same IQ and intellectual appeal one-on-one and in groups of various sizes. The reason I keep going back to the potlucks and movie nights (though, the Sex In The City debut was one I simply could not stomach, no matter how much booze was offered) because I know that individually, I have a fun time with them. Solo expeditions and discussions offer thoughtful banter, witty repartee...even anecdotes that entertain and enlighten. Where the fuck does all of that go when we gather? Wouldn't you logically predict that six cool individuals would make for one very enticing conversation? Alas, these girls do what they do best and render you, the once-logical idealist, completely stupid.

I just don't understand why these girls need this forum that is somewhat of a cross between Mean Girls and "Pick-A-Little, Talk-A-Little" from The Music Man, where the first half of a gathering is spent reminiscing about the last meeting and the second is spent planning the next. The fact that this group of ladies is based in a graduate school makes me seriously concerned about how fucked this nation's future is. To sum it up: why you gotta be retarded?

Then again, perhaps there is a psychological and social benefit to membership into girl world. Perhaps I'm the dumb one for being the holier-than-though isolationist ranting inanely on an anonymous blog. Perhaps I'm taking for granted my own personal identity and my daring stance on individuality and free thought.

Perhaps they can kiss my ass.

If ever a band has remained criminally overlooked by the masses through a long, prolific and consistently excellent career (that has been in a steamrolling motion since 1983), than its the Melvins. Hugely influential to a multitude of rock and metal bands, inspiring everything from grunge to drone, their refusal to settle into a single niche has afforded them brief flirtations with the mainstream. The Melvins' enduring legacy may be their impact on a fledgling Seattle rock scene in the late 80s, early 90s, the scene's most prominent martyr Kurt Cobain acting as something of a protege of the band initially, before eventually using the weight of Nirvana's explosion with Nevermind to secure Melvins with a 3-album stint with major label Atlantic. The Melvins were alwyas too predictable and downright odd to sell millions of records to angsty gen X-ers, however, even if there were always potential radio-friendly hits buried within the gruelling sludge, twisted Sabbath-isms and general rock weirdness that is their forte.

In 2001 the band finally found a stable home with Mike Patton's Ipecac label. Their past few albums have been quite streamlined by their standards, with '06's (A) Senile Animal perhaps their most accessible record since Houdini. Nude With Boots continues this trend, building on the critical acclaim of its predecessor. Notable about both Nude... and ...Senile Animal has been the annexation of kindred upstarts Big Business into the bass, drumming and backing vocal fold, which means there are doubled up drums in the mix to give the listener an extra pounding. The backing vocals of Jarod Warren meanwhile add a great compliment to Buzz Osbourne's familiar roar, the layered style adding a bizarrely operatic effect at times. Nude With Boots is stylistically similar to (A) Senile Animal, and there is a little deja vu going on here, but repeated spins prove rewarding as it really takes a few listens for this album to get under the skin. 'The Kicking machine' has a distinct 70s flavour, like Led Zeppelin dragged through a ditch backwards or something. 'Billy Fish' is something of a nod to the Houdini/Stoner Witch days as a ctachy, mid-paced rock-out, with the multi-percussive element proving devastating in this instance. As before, Jarod's contributions are a great accompaniment to Buzz's vocals - they're slightly similar actually, but less gruff and thus add a melodic air to things. Think of Jerry Cantrell's vocals to Layne Stayley's in Alice in Chains.

Melvins have never made things too easy for the listener of course, and the ominous 'Dies Irae' is typical of this tendency, invoking Ennio Morricone's spaghetti western soundtracks through a minimalist dirge. 'It Tastes Better than the Truth' is like a nightmarish mantra of sorts, as squawking guitar shapes and menacing screams and yells; it's repetetive, loud and obnoxious the way a Melvins closer should be really. For the most past, though, Nude With Boots is comprised of standard issue Melvins rockers such as 'Suicide in Progress' that are always a treat to the ears. It rarely strays into the kind of out there weirdness that has often bemused listeners in the past (their collaboration with Lustmord a few years ago had a 20 minute track of incessant repetetion to fuck you up), it's concise and to the point. It's unlikely to have the critical impact of (A) Senile Animal, as it's essentially more of the same, but it's the Melvins and therefore rocks the fuck out of everything. So there.

Official Melvins Website
Official Melvins MySpace
Official Ipecac Website ]]> http://choronzonix.wordpress.com/?p=33 Sat, 12 Jul 2008 15:03:41 +0000 choronzonix http://choronzonix.wordpress.com/?p=33 Graveyard Dirt - Shadows of Old Ghosts
Self Released - 29 September 2007

These Irish doomsters have something of a complicated history. Originally forming way back in '94, their first demo Of Romance and Fire was released in '95. Having piqued the interest of German label Ars Metalli, they were signed the following year with a view to a debut album. A series of setbacks, including guitarist David Reilly's sustaining an arm injury, led to the band's dissolution before they ever managed to realise their potential. Cut to 2005, and Graveyard Dirt have reformed. Of Romance and Fire has been re-released, and the band have decided to enter the studio to finally record some of the material that was intended for that elusive debut full-length. Shadows of Old Ghosts is the result, a 34 minute, 3-track EP. As it turns out, we've all been missing out bigtime with their absence, as Graveyard Dirt have crafted a work of magisterial brilliance that not only entrenches them firmly within the upper echelons of doom's considerable heirarchy, but actually surpasses many of their better contemporaries in the process.

The main riff motif that dominates the first 4 minutes of 'Rise...Fallen Skies' is sublime; effortlessly invoking that simultaneously uplifting and downtrodden beauty that typifies the best doom. Their sound could best be likened to British scene of the early 90s - Anathema (think Crestfallen and The Silent Enigma as opposed to Judgement), My Dying Bride and Paradise Lost. There's a tinge of the dark romanticism that typifies those bands too, although it's delivered in a less overtly hammy fashion. Each of the 3 tracks on offer shift through myriad moods and tempos, yet the familiar dirge of this genre is omnipresent. Paul Leydon gives a spirited performance behind the mic, his combination of throaty roars and whispered spoken word passages like a cross between Darren White and Aaron Stainthorpe.

Since some bands have made it their business to create the slowest, least listenable dirges in the world, Graveyard Dirt have instead concentrated on creating memorable songs. A warm, textured production baths each track in an audible but no less gritty light, and is short of being overly clinical. 'A Tearless Lament' highlights this nicely, as a spoken word and intricate, clean guitar midsection launches back into a crushing dirge, and the effect is nothing short of epic. 'Gathering Storm' is just as its name suggests, as a calculated build up morphs into a violent climax, whilst it utilises piano and string flourishes to great effect. Shadows of Old Ghosts is thus a lovingly constructed and excellently wirrten piece of work, and as all good EPs should, its brief length leaves you gasping for more. Those of you bored to tears by My Dying Bride's dreary A Line of Deathless Kings need to hear this, as Graveyard Dirt could show those old dogs about how vital doom should sound these days. And labels? You let these guys release this independently? For shame!

Official Graveyard Dirt MySpace ]]> http://xemirra.wordpress.com/?p=95 Sat, 12 Jul 2008 15:03:05 +0000 xemirra http://xemirra.wordpress.com/?p=95 La semana pasada oíamos la noticia de un borrego, que había matado a golpes a su hijastro de 1año de edad porque éste le habia apagado la consola o algo así mientras el animal en cuestión aporreaba los mandos.

Lo curioso, es que cuando este cruel asesinato, por parte de un perturbado psicótico, al igual que otras muchas barbaridades como esta suceden, se usan mediáticamente para atacar a uno de los mayores sectores del ocio de la actualidad: Los videojuegos.

Todos recordamos al asesino de la katana, que se cargó a sus padres y a su hermana con sindrome de down ¿verdad? Pues no importa que el chaval fuera un adolescente con epilepsia, psicológicamente inestable, y con carencias de cariño debido a la enorme atencion que su hermana requería. Lo que importa es que el chaval en cuestión jugaba al Final Fantasy, y al que se intenta hacer el culpable principal. La investigación lo lía, los interesados lo tergiversan, y los medios de comunicación lo magnifican, y ahi está, un peligro que acecha a nuestros hijos.

Luego salen tertulias, de expertos, padres, y "entendidos", que califican al GTA como una salvajada, pero que tienen en casa jugando a sus hijos con los mismos juegos que critican, por que son tan buenos padres que no se paran a leer el código PEGI que trae cada juego, con una calificacion por edades y explicando varios de los contenidos del título.

Lo cojonudo, es que los que ya llevamos muchos años metidos en esto de los videojuegos, jugamos toda la vida a juegos como Doom o los míticos mortal kombat de principios de los 90, con sangre a raudales, fatalities y la de la movida, y nunca matamos a nadie, ni somos sadicos perturbados, ni hubo ningun problema.

Pero todo cambia cuando algo se convierte en un fenómeno de masas, cuando esos individuos mandamases e influyentes, que, apelando a la "ética" y a la "moral", ponen todas las trabas posibles a un juego violento, exclusivamente destinado al público adulto, mientras su hijo apalea indigentes por la calle.

En eso se basa el sistema, en educación, no en prohibición ni censura, ni en la facilidad de una vez que has criado un niño-monstruo, a base de caprichos y consentirle todo, echarle la culpa a los videojuegos, a los amigos o a la tele. ¿como va a ser la culpa de unos padres que no se preocupan de sus hijos? No, hombre no!

¿Y a que viene esto? A que estoy hasta los cojones de tener que esperar meses por un juego como Manhunt 2, porque a cuatro mojigatos conservadores que no saben si una consola tiene ruedas, o música o de qué va, se les ponga en los cojones considerar un peligro público a un videojuego destinado únicamente al público adulto y perfectamente etiquetado por el sistema PEGI.

Pero podéis estar tranquilos, si algun dia montáis en cólera, os volveis locos, y os cargais con una escopeta de feria a la dueña de un kiosko, la noticia bomba por la que saldréis en todos los telediarios, será que jugabais al tetris.

De hecho, la culpa de la guerra de Irak, la tiene el Puzzle Bobble, ¿no lo sabíais?¬¬

P.D: Actualizo con un video ya conocido desde hace años por los foros de videojuegos, que demuestra la locura colectiva de este post perfectamente y con la aportación que ENI nos deja abajo.

No seáis nesios hombre!

David Bravo

by xemirra.

Wright is no less unsparing in describing the backgrounds of the Marines. This is a sensitive topic, with few journalists willing to look too deeply into the composition of the all-volunteer army. Wright has no such qualms. "Culturally," he writes, "these Marines would be virtually unrecognizable to their forebears in the 'Greatest Generation.' They are kids raised on hip-hop, Marilyn Manson and Jerry Springer." There are "former gangbangers, a sprinkling of born-again Christians and quite a few guys who before entering the Corps were daily dope smokers." While some joined the Marines out of prep school or turned down scholarships at universities, more than half "come from broken homes and were raised by absentee, single, working parents. Many are on more intimate terms with video games, reality TV shows and Internet porn than they are with their own parents." Together, he writes, these Marines "represent what is more or less America's first generation of disposable children."

Our volunteer army, we are told again and again (it is pounded through to us from the corporate dominated media to even the underground free media), are beyond reproach.  But after the video found on You Tube of the marine tossing a puppy to its death I think that Americans are starting to realize that when the mantra rallied into our servicemen and servicewomen is "kill, kill, kill" we have a problem.

In a time where it is still dangerous to criticize the troops (how many people are quick to point out that they loathe the war yet support the troops) I will venture a guess that some of these men and women don't really believe in their cause, do not believe in free-fire zones, and are subject to the ultimate forms of peer pressure to kill innocents.

From what snippets I read on Generation Kill I am disgusted.  Disgusted with both the fact that our military personnel do not have an option to voice moral outrage, and that there are still voters in the United States who do not regret voting for George W. Bush.

We have sent citizens of Iraq and Afghanistan our broken children to be their doom while not realizing that we have sealed our own.

What we need to do is to have people who are fed up and angry not to merely protest the war or point out that it is Bush's fault with a shrug of the shoulders.  We need people to stand up to the carnage and tell their congressional representatives that they will not keep them in office if they continue to vote to fund American terrorism abroad.  What we need is a progressive/liberal party that is willing to run on a platform of peace, economic fairness, social justice, and civil liberties.  A new political party run by and for the people needs to emerge.

Until people have had enough of the lies and same old tricks (read Barack Obama) we will continue to have broken children enter our military and silently kill because a man utilizing Milton Friedman's shock capitalism wants the rich to profit on the dead bodies of children.