So I beat up on Ken Kutaragi for helping run the Playstation brand into the ground the other day.

Meanwhile, the Microsoft brand is doing itself its own disservices, as they always have.

For those that don’t know, that is the brand new $480 X-Box 360 Elite, once believed to be a complete remodel of the flawed launch console. When the 360 originally launched, there was a small, but vocal, minority who complained of severe hardware issues. This included the 360 bricking, unable to maintain power, scratching DVDs and CDs, and ceasing to function altogether during some movies.

When I originally bought my X-Box, it was a used unit that had already bricked during a DVD playback, and bricked again when I tried to play some hard to find Dalek pr0n. It was sent back to me, refurbished, and has not acted up in several hundred hours of play. In fact, I just broke 15,000 achievement points, I’m happy to report, with zero issues besides a poorly designed game freezing up here and there.

Trashy personality quizzes made by junior high students in order to label ourselves like various cuts of meat, that’s what! But no more! I will not stand for it. Go forth and find out whether you’re more like Jar Jar, or more like 3P0.

The Ultimate Star Wars Personality Quiz

(Yes, damnit!)

Far less cool Star Trek Personality Quiz

(No friggin way.)

World’s Shortest Political Quiz

Kurt Russell, Clint Eastwood and I have meetings and poker on Thursdays. You guys should come check it out. Guys? There’s free beer? Guys? Anyone?

Which Spice Girl are you?

Ginger Spice – The Slutty One!

Transformers this time

You are Hot Rod. You are an all around good person. You follow rules until they get on your nerves, then you throw out the rule book and start shooting. You tend to act first and that sometimes gets you into trouble, but you’ve got it under control. You have this incredible need to do what you think is right. When you find yourself in charge, you are rather uncomfortable, but you have the savvy to get the job done. Rock on with your hot-headed self.

Wow, the internet can tell you so much about yourself.

This is a couple of days old, but its pretty significant news for hardcore gamers. Ken Kutaragi has vacated his position as the face and voice of the Sony Playstation. This is a sad end to what should have been an amazing career. Kutaragi’s buzz in the early years of "electronic gaming" put him on the same scale of importance as Nintendo’s Shigeru Miyamoto. Just as Mario’s creator is credited with giving the videogame industry life and a future, the Playstation’s creator is credited with giving the industry a reneissance in a time it might have slowed down and died.

He won’t be remembered for that, though – and rightly so. His memory is forever pock marked by several bad decisions by Sony brass, for which he was the figurehead and the willing scape goat. By all means, the PS3 should be mopping up the competitors and leaving them out to dry, just as the PS2 whomped the Gamecube and X-Box, but that didn’t happen this console cycle. Some people blame the late release of the PS3 for its lack of performance, but I firmly believe Kutaragi is directly responsible for some terrible design decisions made to the console that allowed it to, perhaps not fail, but not reach its full potential.

After all the research that was thrown out the window at the last second, the high manufacturing costs, the unnecessary bluray player, and the iffy backwards compatibility, the PS3 retails for five hundred ninety nine dollars. Add in three extra wireless controllers, at sixty dollars a piece. Four games, sixty bucks each. And let’s add another hundred dollars for miscellaneous costs or peripherals, to make the console unique to the buyer.

That is eleven hundred and twenty dollars to play four games – none of which are worth buying the console over in the first place. Two controllers, and no peripherals, its still almost a thousand dollars. Asking that of a consumer is insane, but Sony assumed they had the fan base to pull ahead.

They don’t. They were arrogant. They were sloppy. And now the Wii is kicking their ass. Ken Kutaragi let it happen, and he does not deserve his job any more.

So long, Ken. Thank you for all you did to contribute to the industry in the past. Hope that you did not contribute heavily to the slow downfall of the Playstation brand with the PS3. And the PSP. I’ll never forgive not having a second analog stick.

[  Mood: Happy ]
When Ellen Feiss and Benjamin Curtis aren’t smoking massive quantities of pot, they’re in your house, messing with your shit. They did not send a robot to hump my Gameboy, but they did decide to gnaw on the power cable on my laptop. I plugged the [Janeway] in to get my internet on, when kachow, I conducted several tens and possibly even hundreds of volts through my thumb and diddling finger. I immediately called India to complain to Dell, the people who sold me the damn thing in the blazing summer of 2003. I told them that, even though the warranty was expired, I wanted them to replace the power cable. Thanks to the technical expert’s grasp of the English language, he decided to send me a free computer instead.

So my old Inspiron 1100 just got replaced by the Inspiron 1550 E. That’s 450 and a vowel better than my old laptop! But that’s not all! This bad boy comes preloaded with Windows Vista, a decent graphics chip, an okay processor, a wider screen, an almost full scale keyboard, a DVD RW drive thingy, a bunch of CDs I’m never going to install and will probably lose, aaaand retails for up to and including six hundred ninety nine dollars!

Eh, yeah, they sent me a shitty new laptop to replace my shitty old laptop, but this shitty laptop is shitty by today’s standards, whereas my old laptop was shitty by 2003’s standards. Which is an improvement? Long story short, after a week with barely any internet, I’m back and posting this for no reason:

I’d like to blow her bubble… eh… That dress would like as good off of her as it would off of my grandm… no… That dog is… nevermind.

[  Mood: Amused ]
[  Currently: Reading stuff I wrote six years ago. ]
Thanks to the lovely and funny Ubalstachaa reminding me that the internet way back machine exists, I can go back and read stuff I wrote for the contests on Zealot. I was always so proud whenever I got on the Top Ten list, or when the HZGs put up one of my rants. It was like Joe was patting me on the head and saying, "Good boy, Dharma. You get a treat." Except that I never cashed out my tokens, as I never really wanted any of the offered prizes. I liked the implied praise a lot better. Almost nobody else rewarded my bad behavior when I was a kid, so it meant a lot to me.

Instead of writing any really original blog entries for a while, Imma gonna reprint some stuff I wrote and do sort of a DVD commentary thing on it. The italicized text will be me, Dharma Bum: 2007 edition, and the regular old text will be me, Dharma Bum: 2001 edition. Start try:

I, ZEALOT
By ImADharmaBum@aol.com

I think the title came from watching Spartacus all day. I was down and out with a sport injury for most of 2001-2002, so I got to catch up on a lot of classic TV and movies.

Being a science fiction fan right now is a very morbid existence. What in the HELL do we have to look forward to? A Star Trek series that’s going to [filk] with the fictional universe’s continuity even more than Voyager did, Matrix sequels that could never live up to the original and a Star Wars prequel that Lucas has hired Fox Family Channel actors to star in. We have every right to spew bile, but why do we do it? Why put ourselves through this world of [sith] when we know we’re going to be disappointed? Why let our minds numb to the point where we bitch about Independence Day not getting nominated for an Oscar, or bitch about Voyager’s doctor being set on fire on Seven Days? (This is really oddly in the same spirit of the opening of my review of The Dresden Files, even though I hadn’t read this or thought about it in years. Spooooooky.) Like most things, this can be answered by penguins.

Oh, Hell, do I even have to explain that? (Not to me, but these other jerks don’t know what we’re thinking about.)

When a large group of penguins get hungry and want to go hunt for fish’n’stuff, they’re frightened that something in the water is going to pop up and eat their ass. (I was just beginning to experiment with cursing like a sailor at this point in my life. It was weird that whoever was censoring me would sensor the F bombs and S bombs, but ass, butt, etc. was just fine. I wish I’d known about the C word back then, it would be interesting to see what the Zealot version of that would be) They all line up in front of the water, and the penguins in the back slowly walk forward, pushing the penguins in the front into the water. If the penguins in the water get eaten by a polar bear, harp seals, Inuits or whatever the Hell eat penguins, the group of birds wait a few seconds, and then push a second and third row of their brothers into the water. They continue this until the penguins stop becoming chew toys for Pooh (I regret this non-sequitor. Working for Disney, I learned that canonically, Pooh is a strict vegetarian, although he will eat animal products (like eggs, milk and honey) ), and then they jump into the water and eat fish’n’stuff. I learned that from watching FOX. (It was a horrible one shot sitcom about a bunch of flight attendants. The show was an attempt to satisfy the WOOOOOOO! crowd after Married with Children went south. Approximately zero members of the cast were hideous, and approximately zero members of the cast were Broadway style gaaaaaaay! Perhaps it was the show’s lack of of realism that led to it being canceled so swiftly?)

Same thing with science fiction fans. If a fan doesn’t like something, like, say, The Phantom Menace, they post something on the Internet calling it "The Pharting Manass" and bitching to others they’ll never meet, EVER, until they have to pee or their Mom hustles them for rent money, and either way they have to make a daring escape through an open window to hide inside a garbage can until it’s safe to come out or they’ve soiled themselves (we all know about government regulated toilets)(And how safe they are *wink*). (Contrary to popular belief, I’ve never used drugs in my life. Being sort of confined to a bed in front of a television for a full two years really did a number on my attention span. Admittedly, my dad smoked a lot of pot throughout his life, and probably was lighting up when I was conceived, so that also factors into my personality. I consider myself a quarter Italian, a quarter German, a quarter Apache, and a quarter Cannabis.) These complaints are replied to with "WHAT YOU SAY!" and "ShUT Up BiTCH, * WARZ iz |< e \/\/ |_ !!!!!" (The leet "e" is actually a 3, whoops) and these poor bastards go and see it. Wave after wave of science fiction fan is pulled in, until it stops sucking and reaches cult status or the movie theaters drop it and we have to wait for it to come to Blockbuster, griping and grumbling all the way through that time period. Luckily, none of us get our asses eaten like penguins, unless we sit on government regulated toilets. (Goddamn alligators. I KNOW YOU’RE DOWN THERE.)

There are also fans of Star Trek who have been fans since they were ugly, uuuugly 10 year olds in the 60s or pimply, piiiiiimply faced 10 year olds in the early 90s. You can’t just give something like that up, it’s like heroin laced candy corn (I made a heroin laced cocaine comment minutes before rereading this! Spoooky!), but I really don’t feel like explaining that too much because I need a fix of DS9 before I go into withdrawal and start shaking like a g’ak facing the business end of a bat’leth. (Comedy gold!)

In conclusion, the sci fi fan’s bile is not going to stop flooding the Earth like the blood of Apocalypse, but that’s the zealot’s nature. I think Mr. T said it best when he stated, "The nature of man is to do what he does, and to avoid all altruistic tendencies until it’s too late for him to realize what he’s done. Those who go against those instincts are idiots."

Mr. T… Nietzche… whatever. If they rhyme, it’s right in my book. ("Those are my principles. If you don’t like them I have others." – Rosa Parks.)

The time to give up the happiest job on Earth in the happiest place on Earth is rapidly approaching. Its been a year since I first moved from California to Florida, and now its time to go back to school. Next month, the big move will swiftly take me from the sweaty, angry, Canadian tourists of Orlando, desperately searching for the Tomorrowland Indy Speedway (its in Tomorrowland). In their stead, I will be delivered into the presence of calm, peaceful, 420 friendly Canadian citizens, bumming around Montana in search of White Castle hamburgers (they’re in the freezer section of your local grocer).

Yes, indeed, its time to stop playing with Chewbacca and go back to friggin’ college. Just in time, too – its getting hot, and I’m all Disney’d out at this point. If I don’t go back to any of the parks for years, I won’t miss it. I’ve seen and done everything, on stage and behind the scenes. I even got to see the animation studios a few times, and have made life long friends with some brilliant artists who are on their way to being the next Brad Bird. I’m King Kool for life because of that.

Like most big changes, smaller changes have a way of tacking themselves on. Not only am I going to a state that I’ve never been to, I’m changing my major for the third time in three years of college. I might also have big news with regards to my life long aspiration to become a video game reviewer for a major website – and, no, not this one, although I understand the pay is the same.

But the more things change, the more they stay the same. With the change in rent, climate, and how many hours I’m going to be able to work, I’m expecting a big lifestyle change, but not huge. As long as I can get cable, high speed internet and… eh… food? I’ll be happy where ever I am. Plus, I can’t wait to go hiking here:

Although, if experience proves correct, something tells me I’ll be giving the female unit a piggyback ride most of the way.

[  Mood: Angelic ]
[ Currently: Swallerin’ yer soul ]
Searching for a way to tap into the hidden strengths that all humans have.

Then an accidental overdose of gamma radiation alters his body chemistry.

And now when Jesus grows angry or outraged, a startling metamorphosis occurs. The creature is driven by rage and pursued by an investigative reporter. "Mr. McGee, don’t make me angry. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry."

The creature is wanted for a murder he didn’t commit. Jesus Christ is believed to be dead, and he must let the world think that he is dead, until he can find a way to control the raging spirit that dwells within him.

[  Mood: Hypnotized ]
We start the day off with Keith Richards snorting his father’s remains mixed with some cocaine. You heard me. We then move on to a very Richard Roundtree Christmas:

And then we go to me talking about some cartoons that I just saw. Isn’t this an awesome blog? Anyway, I keep Cartoon Network or cable news channels on while I’m moving through my apartment, because I need annoying background noise to ignore if I’m going to get anything done. Conversely, if G4 or Spike TV is on, I sit around for days doing nothing. Today, there was a Courage the Cowardly Dog marathon, followed by some Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy, and if you aren’t familiar with those shows, they’re pretty screwed up. Lots of strange, grandiose, morbid humor. What I didn’t expect was how screwed up a show I go out of my way to ignore was.

Two married lobsters are sitting in a tank, dressed up for a nice night out, making pleasant dinner conversation and looking over their menus. A human waiter walks over from outside the tank, "What can I get for you today?" The lobster husband looks at the menu, contemplates it deeply, and finally says, "I’ll have the lobster," and sheepishly grins at the camera. The waiter picks up his shrieking wife. "How could you!?" she screams as she’s carried off to be slowly boiled to death so that her lover may devour her hot, dead corpse.

I was raised on Looney Tunes cartoons, which were screwed up in their own ways, but I can’t really remember any episodes where Porky roasted Petunia on a spit fire and cannibalized her non-kosher ass. Generation Z is going to be full of cawazy peoples.