Monday, April 28, 2008
"A Harrowing Experience" - An Excerpt From My Life
Highlights of the week: a quite pleasurable foray into Downtown L.A. to take visit some interesting places in one of my favorite shirts poignantly cut short by a dying camera battery, turning in a badly polished proposal for my retarded brainchild "Myrmidon," and Econ tests, on two different occasions, kicking my tender buttocks. Ooh, plus I finally got to catch Assy McGee last night.
Shooting news coming soon GTA4, Gears of War 2 vs. Army of Two, (Because we all know TPS is the bastard child of FPS) and a follow-up on Realism in Video Games. Perhaps more poetry.... who knows?
Monday, April 14, 2008
Ode to Halo 3: HD Dreams
HD Dreams
Take a step past that glowing Halo,
And enter the lobby, which is also the home
To the owned, the pwned and the stoned
Sometimes even the renowned
If only for one game and the next
Is up to you and you gotta be too legit to quit
Until you’ve interjected your own acerbic wit
To call that other guy a fag,
Insult his mother,
And call out
HEADSHOT!
And Deadshots, hotshots, and cheapshots
And any other kind of shot,
Like shotty-snipes on your favorite map
But everyone gripes cause they hate that type
And you got them all dead to rights
Locked into your sights
Except he ducks into that room and you die
And for sure he’s a leet hacker
(or slacker)
But hippieslayer won’t stop singing Journey
Chorus punctuated by explosive percussion
Or is it percussive explosions going a rat-a-tat-tat,
Harsh virtual metal pinging and scraping and penetrating
But not the good kind cause that would require a
Partner in person
And you see the dead come back to life to die again
Creeping and sneaking in a perfect posed
Crouch so different from the slouch on the couch
Who doesn’t feel the pain he inflicts on his pixilated pawn,
But instead yells inane, profane, and insane curses
At his monitor and at the assholes he sometimes calls friends
Remembered fondly in a tidy list on a glowing and slightly menacing menu
Dead Federalist
Itchnut
Ovvnage44
The Littlest Donkey
And they follow me into dreams
Spinning and pirouetting,
Lazily lingering in the air
Between streaks of vibrant viciousness
As orbs of potential pyrotechnics
And leashed luminescence
Burst like stormclouds in vivid Technicolor
(my dreams are not yet in HD)