FFXI and Real Life Meetings.

It’s no new story.

Two people meet on a Linkshell (it’s like a chat-room) in the game Final Fantasy Online. One is a girl, one is a guy. The girl is so taken with the guy that she decides to meet him IRL (in real life), and heads across the county to find out who her Romeo is. Turns out he’s 30. Trouble is, she’s 14.

The guy gets saddled with Jail Time. The girl gets no punishment whatsoever.

I’m not here to debate the legal system. But I am angry that my playing of FFXI may be curbed by overzealous trial lawyers in the US seeking to capitalize on these circumstances. They’ll write up new laws which will rob me of my outlet because of the rampant irresponsibility of American parents and the American trend of avoiding accountability.

Why does a chainsaw need a warning label that says, “Do not attempt to stop moving chain with hands”?

The Final Fantasy Forums are lit up with chatter, as everyone lays out their opinion of the affair and its repercussions. Few are blaming the parents of the girl. But a some are speaking out … and my favorite response so far has been:

“Instead of spying on your kids’ internet links, teach them that being a filthy whore is wrong.”

Although it’s not the most graceful articulation, I think it gets to the core of the problem. Parents shouldn’t be sneaking around their children, sniffing out drugs and sex through a haze of paranoia. They should be teaching values.

While I’m on the topic, I’d like to add that spending time in Europe has engendered me with a hypothesis on the American Values and Violence problem. I think that convenience is what creates violence. Immediate Accessibility Devalues. Follow me for a moment.

Having no late-night shopping here, no instant gratification of nearly any kind (save for pot, which I don’t use), having to wait for banks to process bills for 3 weeks and not being able to find vanilla extract all seem like minor unrelated irritations, but the side effect is that everything has value now. I know that I have to travel across town to get a book, which means that the book is a treasure. If I could go to Wal-Mart, my reading would become disposable. A twenty-four hour grocery store and a car mean that I can get fat easily, because the food doesn’t mean anything.

The same goes for lives. If you don’t work for something, then your privileges don’t have weight. Your own life is cheapened, and without this greater sense of personal worth, it’s hard to conceive of others’ significance as well. You’re not trespassing on the rights of others if you can’t imagine their value. The answer to American violence may be to make things more difficult.

Please Take Care of two Cats

Hey, this is a plea to anyone in Chicago. Two friends here in Amsterdam have 2 cats in Chi-town that they love dearly (like children) and their surrogate parents have just been cruelly forced to move as well.

So, Maggie and Arch need someone to take in their 2 cats for the next few months (until they can come pick them up from Chicago and bring them here).

If you want 2 cats for a couple months, or know someone who can help, please post a reply!

Thanks and Toodle-Pip

A Treasure Hunt

Yesterday was the bi-annual Boom Chicago scavenger hunt, hosted by Suzi and Pep. I’ve posted before about the amount of work that goes into these things - to give you a taste of what we went through, imagine running into a resturaunt to find a bottle of perfume and a sheet of paper that read:

AHBOEHBO@&)P@i9328JBOPOAMMWYQO BJVOIUEWNVIEW@(&%920258 AJHGPWQOVMMSUENGTO

(Or something to that effect).

The above turned out to be a code that sent us to an address across the city, and a woman there was reading a newspaper in the corner and smelled like the perfume. You give her a specific phrase and she gives you a picture of squares and circles. Really great. A fantastic set of clues.

But about half way through the event, the skies above Amsterdam opened up and it rained harder than anything I’ve ever experienced. Within seconds, my team (starring Matt, Tim, Steven and Andrew) were soaked as if we had gone swimming in our clothes. Add 6 pounds to all of the cross city biking, and an inescapable shiver. Suddenly it wasn’t fun any more.

I’m sure Jones will post details about it, too, since he seems to be a more patient blogger than I.

In other news, I think the annual chicago pizza movie festival event will be subtitled, “Pizza Royale 2004: Crusst-hern”. Either that or “PR2k4: The Director’s Slice”.

News from the Frontline!

Last night was the Lowlands music festival, featuring us poor comedian saps from Boom Chicago. Now, the following gripes may be too sour for some to swallow; after all, it’s a true privelage to get to perform at an all out rock-concert. However, regardless of how nice heaven may be, if Gabriel kept sticking pins in your ass, after a while you’d get annoyed too.
Like last year, the festival was early-arrival, wait-around-all-day kind of fare. We headed out to the muddy stomping ground some 13 hours before our show, and for the 16 hours that I was a part of Lowlands, only once was it warm enough to unzip my winter jacket. Mind you, it’s the middle of August.
Anyhow, I ate lunch and stayed inside the artist’s trailer all day. I finished a novel, played some Final Fantasy Tactics Advance, and waited around some more. I was cold. I could see my breath.
Finally, at midnight, it was time to do our show. Fans had lined up 2 hours before hand, and the theater seemed sold out.
Unfortunately, Boom Chicago doesn’t play well on a stage that large.
Some of our sketches/improvs involve propping up as various audience members and creating a sitcom out of their lives. Great fun when you have the Boom Theatre and 7 cameras to catch the audience members on before the show begins. You introduce these poor schmoes to the rest of the audience, and then our improvised impressions of them are that much more interesting.
Stand someone up in their seat at a 1,000 person theater and the effect is dulled.
Didn’t have time for an encore, didn’t really feel like anything hit hard for the audience. And worst of all, everyone seemed to be overly protective after the show, showering us with “Good Job”s and “Great Show”s in the same manner that family members speak to you when you’ve just caught cancer.
Took a long trip home to find out that the home shows had been a total cluster fuck that night, too, with Tarik jumping ahead 2 sketches in the middle of the show and forcing Matt to improvise a part he didn’t know at all. I may not have been there, but damn was I proud of Jones when I heard that. And it put me in a great mood. To hell with Lowlands. I love the Leidseplein.

Ghost stories in the wild

Last night, after a wonderful dinner at Local, Tim and I went to a lesbian bar.

Now, lesbos, we need to talk. Why is it that I’ve never even *seen* a gezellig (cool, comfortable, atmospheric) gay girl bar? I’ve played wingman for Tim for months, been to several gay bars and almost every time I’m impressed by the package. Gay guy bars have an atmosphere stereotype, and generally live up to expectations. But nearly every lesbian bar I’ve ever been to is ugly. And so are the women inside.

What is it about the genetic underpinnings of lesbianism that makes gay girls immune to the standard vectors of attraction? Why is the lesbian costume so masculine? Isn’t the whole point about being a gay girl that you’re attracted to girls? Or is lesbianism not really a change in the avenue of attraction, but rather a flaw in the way you attract? Could lesbianism simply be a result of switched-off desire to produce fitness indicators?

Anyway. We left before we could even finish out tiny beers, and I convinced Tim to ride our bikes down the Amstel river at midnight, looking for a bar outside of the city. We biked for about 15 minutes, and found that the bar I had recalled was actually closed at 11pm, so we continued biking. We took random turns and ended up in the middle of empty farmland, surrounded by sheep and crickets. We told ghost stories and I wished that more of my friends were there … but it’s really hard to mobilize a group. Convincing Tim was hard, convincing Matt, Jim, Jordan to go along too would be impossible on a random night. You have to sway half of a the group in order for a whole group to go along with an idea, and Jim and Jordan wouldn’t even leave Boom for dinner (or drinks) last night.

Now that Tim has gone on the ride (and has seen how amazing it is that 15 minutes outside of Amsterdam you’re suddenly in Wisconsin), maybe it’ll be easier to get a bunch of people to take the trip.

..duhh…

An oddity:

When searching for the mobile phone model used by the hero in the upcoming “Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children” (Hey Everyone! You can be a hero, too! And take megapixel photos and output them via 76mb cards directly into your pc, or output into your TV!), I googled using these words:

Advent Children Mobile Phone Model

And to my surprise, received many, many hits from online research papers. Seems that the words “Model” and “Advent” are overused by academics, as in, “Due to the advent of multi-channel television ….” or “the advent of gene doping … goes against the model of old-world Olympics …” etc, etc.

So, the next time you want to seem intelligent, use “Advent” in a sentence!

But sequels ..

Something that Clamjamz has mentioned in passing (more than once) has actually been on my mind lately. That is: Movies Suck.

What happened?

The way I see it, films “jumped the shark” around 1997. Sure, you have a few hits here and there (Fight Club, Sixth Sense and The Matrix all came out in 1999), but my instinct is that these films are the exceptions that prove the rule. Pre-1997, each year has more notable hits than Post 1997. I don’t want to list films, because this isn’t a proof on the hypothesis, it’s a question of causality. What happened in 1997 that made movies terrible?

The easy answer is CG. CG allows a director/studio easy access to effects without forcing them to consider the necessity of an individual shot. But CG isn’t a total cinematic Hitler. I think Jurassic Park is one of the best summer films of all time, and we know that its visual success is due to the inclusion of computer graphics.

So, what else happened in 1997? The proliferation of the Internet and the rise of the WWF.

The internet really hit its stride in the mid-90’s. The effect it had on film is tangible; just look at what Aint-It-Cool-News second-guessing did to Batman and Robin. Test screenings and hype became as important as the film itself.

And the WWF mentality stripped horror/action/thriller films of their meditative fugues. Look at the difference between Nightmare on Elmstreet (not a great movie) and Freddy Vs Jason (A terrible one). Or Aliens/Predator compared to Aliens Vs Predator? Films are no longer a patient exploration of fear or hate - they are cage matches of over-the-top characters.

Again, we can argue the truth of any of these sophisms all day long, but — what I’m searching for is an answer to a nauseating modern instinct. I think it’s something we all realize when we buy our tickets for … hell, even Kill Bill 2. It’s just not good. There are objective qualities that are elements of good movie making and storytelling, and they’re absent from the majority of today’s films.

Terminator 3 sucked.

96

Two Quizzes instead of posting? Terrible. So I’ll add a few words before this result.

Our first show with Matt Jones, Boom Chicago Employee, was last night. He was funny as all hell, of course, and had a great show. Even managed to break Tarik’s taboo on stage, by playing a racist character in a scene with him. Thank god.

Everyone is so happy with him, which makes me say, “SEE!? I told you so!?” Now if I could only cast the next 3 people, too.

Also, I keep pushing Pep to audition in LA this January, too. He’s not sold, but he’s also not turning down the idea.

Was talking to the waitstaff after the show and was told, “Yeah, we’ve all agreed that Mr. Matt Jones is a really cute charmer.” Uh oh. Looks like he’s gonna get laid.

If I had more free time, I’d write more. But I’m sure he will post more details.

And now, QUIZ! Oooh, and … look! My result is not only appropriate, but … the picture is from Final Fantasy! And my spiritual name is Seth. I hope this means that I’ll be able to be on SNL before burning New York city to the ground with Japanese Toys. Luckkkkyyyyy!

You are Form 8, Demon: The Destroyer.

“And The Demon took advantage of the chaos
and seized civillization. With grace and
style, Demon slit The Goddess’s belly and
drowned the world in her blood. The Goddess,
The Demon, and the world were no
more.”

Some examples of the Demon Form are Seth (Egyptian)
and The Horsemen of the Apocalypse (Christian).
The Demon is associated with the concept of
destruction, the number 8, and the element of
earth.
His sign is the full moon.

As a member of Form 8, you are a very strong willed
individual. You don’t let others’ opinions
sway your own and you’re usually not afraid to
speak your mind. However, some may see you as
a bit overly passionate but it’s just because
you never back down from your values. No
matter what, you always do everything with
style. Demons are the best friends to have
because they will back you up.

Which Mythological Form Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

I usually don’t do this but …

Your LJ Friend RPG Party by Jennifurret
Username
Obligatory Love Interest	seth_meyers
Macho Guy who is really a softy	popomohaha
Mysterious Girl with Hidden Past	commanderjesus
Annoying Little Kid	jtek
The Perfect One that Dies	mjthekracker
Badguy gone Good	daogre
The Androgynous Looking One	clamjamz
Pointless Fanservice Hot One	rage_ahol
Furry Useless Mascot	aspen44
And the real villian is…	fub
Quiz created with MemeGen!

Jones

At 9:00am, Pep and I picked up Matt Jones from the airport. What’s ahead of him is an ego-splitting, mind-defying emotional and physical adventure, like the kind they write about in books. I’m nervous and excited; I’ll admit that I don’t know How he’s gonna fit in or When. But I know he’s a good guy and will soon be a natural extension of this new, strange family.

It’s difficult to give up 250 friends for the intimate relationship he’ll have here with … err, 12 other people. The atmosphere here is indescribeable, but with his fellowship, maybe we’ll be able to articulate fully what the HELL happens here all the time. Know that the Jones you get back in the end will not be the same one who left. It’s impossible, unfortunately.

He’s already been to one rehearsal — it’s our longform rehearsal that we have on mondays, for the elective Hari (our extra set on Wednesday nights). He hasn’t slept in 90 hours or something, but still managed to make me laugh.

I’ll try and take care of him, without actually trying to take care of him. Tomorrow he’s going to De Efftelling. It’s an amusement park I’ve written about before; it’s kinda like a crazy german fairy tale, and nothing is in english.

Thanks for letting him go! Toodle-Pip~