Musings: 01/26/12
After playing FFXIII some more, I feel I must add to my first rant. I have discovered the spell necessary to revive others, which is still useless if the leader dies in a single battle. And I have reached chocobos. If scenes with chocobos cannot give me a sense of joy or pride, than FFXIII can never hope to satisfy me so I have stopped playing it in the middle of chapter 8. Chapters. Feh! “Oh, but everyone complains about how linear it is!” Yes, and with good reason. The game cannot be defended. For those closed-minded weeaboos who feel that games without “Final Fantasy” in the title must be shooters for neanderthals, I implore that you take off the virgin neckbeard glasses and peep Lost Odyssey for your true JRPG fix. Nothing else in the genre for the past 5 years has been any good. That is all.
Now, onto more pressing matters!
It has always been my greatest shame that I don’t know how to play Romance of the Three Kingdoms. Yes, it burdens me more than the time I was tripped in front of Luz back in the second grade after trying to convince her that it was, in fact, not I but that ruinous monster of a boy James who had called her the previous evening. It concerns and bothers me more than knowing I can’t ride a bike or whistle. And it eats at me more than knowing that you all now know these things about me. Oh, the pain I’ve lived all these years trying to become smart and resilient enough to not suck at Rot3K… But, thankfully, John Woo directed Red Cliff. Now all of my troubles are a thing of the past!
This movie is good.
Like, really good.
Final Fantasy XIII sucks. ~ Part I: 7 chapters in so far.
I’m currently playing FFXIII because I was considering its unnecessary sequel (the one we never asked for, using the time and resources that should’ve been spent on Versus XIII which we were promised and did ask for) and even though I’m only 15 hours in and not yet done with the intro/tutorial part, I believe I can safely say that FFXIII is a piece of shit.
I just had pollo en mole for the first time.
Holy shit, I was wrong about Mexicans. You guys are great!
YOU REMEMBER HOW UNSTOPPABLE LIL’ WAYNE WAS IN 2007?
HE OWNED MUSIC FOR AN ENTIRE YEAR.
HE WAS ON PEOPLE’S SHIT THAT DIDN’T EVEN WANT HIM THERE. IT WAS LIKE … THE JINGLE FOR CAP’N CRUNCH CEREAL (F. LIL’ WAYNE), O COME ALL YE FAITHFUL (F. LIL’ WAYNE), LIL’ WAYNE RAPPING OVER LIL’ WAYNE SAMPLES SLOWED DOWN 400%. AND HE STILL KILLED IT ON BASICALLY EVERY TRACK.
IT WAS A WONDERFUL TIME TO BE ALIVE.
WHAT ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO NOW, THOUGH? LISTEN TO DRAKE?
PFFFFFT, NO. DON’T BE RIDICULOUS. LET’S GO CHASE THAT SQUIRREL AND TALK ABOUT HOW AMAZING BUSTA RHYMES HAS BEEN THESE PAST COUPLE YEARS.
WORD. I’M GOING TO MURDER THAT SQUIRREL THE WAY BUSTA MURDERS GUEST VERSES.
Aioli is flavored mayo.
Chipotle stands for “smoked chili pepper.”
Roux is flour and butter.
Au jus is the juice from whatever meat you just cooked.
Ragu is just meat-sauce.
Artisan is faggy for “bland and expensive.”
“But nothing disturbs the feeling of specialness like the presence of other human beings feeling identically special.”
― Jonathan Franzen, Freedom
Ugh, now that I’ve resigned myself to knowing video isn’t what I’m on this Earth to do, I really don’t want to start class on Monday. Great, another fat turtleneck-wearing dude with white facial hair talking to me for 5 hours about how to turn on a goddamn camera. I just wish they’d cut to the chase and say “look, none of you are ever gonna get paid to do this for a living because you don’t have rich friends in California. Why do you think I’m teaching and not insanely famous, myself?” Then I could finally answer “let’s suicide bomb the TMZ offices.” But, alas, I won’t be alive for that wonderful revolution so instead I’m just gonna try not to fall asleep as I collect my financial aid.
