Thor

Here is just a small sample of some words that rhyme with Thor. Bore, abhor, snore, chore, poor and Norse Folklore. Now, having read that I want you to try and deduce my critical opinion of the movie Thor. Oh go on! Don't just sit there waiting for the answer. You've done it? Good. Thor is shit.

A number of times previously in this ancient tome some people call "a blog" (and others call "are you still writing those?") I have touched on the idea that DC comics seem to produce better shit than Marvel comics. Now if I were a Marvel supporter I would be very careful about mentioning this movie in any argument because it has very little to recommend it. If I had to sum up the plot, which let's face it I DO because the alternative would be to reproduce the script, I would say it's about a prick living in a kingdom populated entirely by mythological Norse pricks who gets stripped of his powers and banished to Earth for being too much of a prick. OK so that's a kind of shitty summary but that's essentially it. Thor is the son of Odin who is a little too keen to assert his dominance against the Ice Giants. His father forbids it for sound diplomatic reasons and Thor chooses to gather a crew of adventuring buddies to storm the Ice Giant's home and exact brutal revenge for making Thor look like a war hungry, arrogant dickhead. I particularly "enjoyed" the hasty and lazy characterization of the war buddies as Thor set a minute of screen time aside to go to each in turn and list their name, rank, specialty and fondest childhood memory. It was the biggest shock for me to see that his band of merry men actually consisted of one young, hot, nimble woman in skimpy tight leather who would then be characterized as "the woman." But it was all for naught really as each of these characters probably only has about 10 minutes of screen time and enough dialogue between them to fill a single script page. AND they probably had to share it.

So to the absolute shock of nobody Odin is quite displeased with Thor and decides the best thing to do would be to strip him of his magical hammer and throw him through a wormhole to Earth along with the hammer, that he will not be able to use until he (do I even have to say it?) PROVES HIMSELF WORTHY. Which I suppose sounds perfectly functional but basically means that the superhero in this superhero movie has no powers or abilities for most of the movie, which as far as mistakes in superhero movies goes is pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty big. "So what do we fill in the other 80% of the movie with?" I hear scriptwriter A pontificate. "Clumsy love interests? Vague science stuff? Fish out of water comedy antics? Secret government branches?"
"How about all those things?" says scriptwriter B.
"Nah" replies scriptwriter A "I think we need to make things a little more focused than that."
It was at this point that the director, obviously drunk and sleeping with scriptwriter B, walks in a beats scriptwriter A to death. So yeah 80% Thor is essentially packing foam for a flimsy, fragile plot that still manages to break. The aforementioned secret government business is perhaps the most baffling part. Does America have a branch in the secret service devoted to the science behind interstellar hammers? Because after the hammer is found, lodged King Arthur style in a rock, there is a massive labyrinth of plastic domes and quarantined zones set up around it within a day or so. There are scientists scanning it on computers, looking at it though different heat and colour spectra. What the fuck is going on exactly?

Perhaps the biggest surprise I got from Thor came days later when I read the wikipedia article and discovered it got "generally favourable reviews." I was geniunely baffled and shocked by this news. That is, before I read closer and discovered that the people who reviewed it favorably are those kind of "critics" that work for The Hollywood reporter and prefer to fellate the film with fad sentences like "kicks off this superhero summer with a bang." Which isn't a review as much as it is a stale piece of marketing. But actual, proper critics like Roger Ebert who can still spot a pile of shit after the polishing, gave it the negative write up it deserves, which comforted me immensely. The fact of the matter is Thor as a movie was unfocused and boring. The story can be summed up as 114 minutes of an idiot getting his magic hammer back.Which could be forgivable if it wasn't relying so heavily on the development of characters that you couldn't possibly care about. If you manage to stick around after the credits they have some little bit with Samuel L. Jackson that's supposed to get us excited because "Thor will be back in The Avengers." Great, well I definitely won't be watching that then.

The Great Gatsby

You know it occurred to me recently that for all my critiquing and bitching about movies, TV, anime, games and life in general I've never really dealt with books in any meaningful way. I guess I find books and music a little harder to talk about because they seem like much more personal things. Also I've become extremely slotheful when it comes to reading books, which I blame on the aforementioned mediums which are consuming my life hastily and aggressively like a fat man on a half-hour lunch break. Or your mum in a circle of naked men. So in order to embrace a new medium I'm going to ignore your mums persistent phone calls and saddle up for The Great Gatsby, which happens to be the book I finished last night.

So reviewing what many people with a brain consider to be a classic may seem lazy. Because I can easily just say "yeah it's pretty good and well worth reading" and get back to Facebook without any concern for opposition. But I like to think I'm better than that, even if I'm not. So whilst not budging from the stance that The Great Gatsby is also "the great book" I'd like to actually discuss the books artistic merits and what personally interested me about the book.

I'll keep the plot synopsis brief to avoid spoilers as best I can. So the year is 1922 and we're in "the Roaring 20's" when the USA was enjoying the giddying highs of a soaring economy. The protagonist and narrator has moved into a rental house on Long Island next door to a Mansion owned by a man named Jay Gatsby; a legendary local figure who frequently throws extravagant parties and is the subject of gossip, speculation and rumor. Actually it is interesting the way the character of Gatsby is introduced into the story through the speculations of another character, so that when Gatsby does make his first legitimate appearance the reader is able to share the sense of awe and curiosity that grips so many of the locals in the novel. Upon meeting Gatsby and growing closer to him it is soon revealed what motivates him and it is here that the story really starts to get interesting.

So the plot may not sound like much and to be fair for a good hunk of the book it isn't. But it's the sudden depth the book has that I found particularly interesting. In the last chapter especially the true natures of the characters is revealed and many established expectations are turned on their head. It's quite disturbing and perhaps even shocking the way in which we suddenly see the world for what it really is and to my complete amazement I was left feeling lost and sympathetic in regards to the tragic turns of the novel. If I had to sum up The Great Gatsby in a crude, oversimplified way I'd almost be tempted to compare it to a soapie. This might sound like a flaw, especially from me, but I mean it in the sense that it spends most of it's time developing characters through entwined romances and everyday social conflicts but then delivers big on the season finale when it decides to knock it all down before us with a boating accident or a wedding massacre. Of course this is executed in a way that is far beyond the quality of any and all soap-operas and will likely leave an impression that will last well beyond the final page. Interestingly enough the book didn't sell particularly well during the authors lifetime and despite it's now classic status F. Scott Fitzgerald died thinking it and himself a failure. Knowing that the tragedy of the art would later be reflected in the tragedy of the artist adds to the impact of the novel and gives me a massive literature context stiffy. So if you feel a strong connection to my stiffy and feel we share similar stiffy inducing values I highly recommend you read The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. It will blow your load, uh, I mean "mind."

*coming soon: I will be reviewing Thor (movie), Skip Beat! (anime) and de Blob 2 (videogame). They should be funnier than this.*

I Need a Doctor, Dr.Dre and Detox

So yeah I kept my fans waiting a couple of months. But you know what? That's nothing at all compared to how long Dr. Dre  has kept his fans waiting for his next album. Shortly after the release of his insanely popular 2001 album (which retardedly enough was released in 1999) Dr. Dre announced his next and final album Detox. This would prove to be a massive mistake on Dre's part because it's now 2011 and the Detox doesn't have so much as a fucking release date. Just in case you can't fully take in the scope of this massive wait I'll outline some facts for you. From the time Detox was announced to the present time as I write this post Eminem has recorded his greatest album ever (The Marshall Mathers LP you moron), 2 follow ups that got progressively worse, had his best friend die, become addicted to prescription drugs, gone on hiatus, sobered up and made a musical comeback releasing two albums and then reuniting to record an EP with Royce da 5'9" as a duo called Bad Meets Evil (which is a must have rap album in my books). So in other words whilst Eminem has had a rather busy ten years Dr. Dre has been dicking around, not being satisfied with anything. Early this year a single off the album was finally released called "I Need a Doctor" and features Eminem and an up and coming female artist called Skylar Grey (youtube some songs of hers, she's well worth a listen). Anyway here is the official clip for "I Need a Doctor."

OK I'm sorry. Dre hasn't been fucking about at all but has instead been busy staring dreamily at the ocean, watching the crashing waves and driving dangerously fast in his extremely expensive car trying to escape the pressure that he foolishly brought upon himself when he announced his album WAY TOO EARLY! Now I know a lot of people who think this song is rubbish and quite frankly I don't blame them. But I actually kinda like it. It's catchy and has some good flows in it but I can't quite escape the knowledge that this song is essentially Dr. Dre trying to drum up excuses and sympathy. "Feel sorry for me I've been in a metaphorical coma." Look Dre, if you've had enough time to get ridiculously buff then you've had time to put out Detox. I mean just look at him, he looks like a coconut perched on top of a fridge.

Now lots of people are often surprised to learn that I'm actually quite into hip-hop music and for several years in my early to mid teens that was pretty much all I listened to. But even the lightest of rap inquisitors were familiar with Dr. Dre 2001. It played at pretty much every party I ever attended for a few years. Not just a track or two either, but often the album would just be left on to play out in its entirety. Sure, upon reflection it wasn't "the best" rap album floating about at the time. But it was simple, tight, catchy, gangsta rap fun. So this was my personal experience with that album and I've since met other friends with very similar experiences. I bring all this up because one of my friends pointed something out to me and I actually think he's 100% right. And that was this; there is no way that Detox can be better than 2001. Why? Well because even after you strip away the decade of hype and expectation that cannot possibly be met the fact remains that we are all adults now and no party we attend will ever play Detox the same way our teenage parties played 2001. Detox might very well be good, great even. But the majority of the population will probably view it negatively because of the long wait and it's inevitable failure to compare with the nostalgia surrounding 2001. It's very much like the situation I find myself in; no matter how good this post might have been nobody will ever say it was worth the wait.

The Quiet Before the Storm

Fucking hell it's been about 3 months since my last post. That's bad even by my standards. So yeah exams have come and gone but it seems that instead of starting my blog up again afterwards I decided to go out and live my life a little, what of it? Actually I don't know what I've been doing really. Deep down inside I've been searching for both the motivation to write and a topic worthy of my comeback. In the end I found nothing and will now instead opt for grovelling for an apology. Funnily enough I ended up playing some more Red Dead Redemption with my friends during my hiatus. Not on multiplayer or anything, just fucking around in single player and sharing the glory. I must say I ended up having more fun fucking around in that game than I imagined I would, probably due to the fantastic company I was keeping at the time. But nevertheless I've decided to ever so shakily force one additional thumb into the "up" position for Red Dead Redemption and admit that there are some decent, non-story-related distractions in the game (fuck you Lobo the Wolf).

Anyway, as all my apology posts are, this post is just a quick update letting you know that I have now remembered that I actually have a blog and have once agained renewed my commitment to it. I would also like to take this opportunity to announce another project I will be involved in with a good friend of mine. My friend Joey and I are going to start doing what will hopefully be a regular podcast together. At this point we're not sure how it will go, what topics it will cover or even what we'll call the blasted thing. But I like the idea of having my own personal rants about things juxtaposed by Joey's, so anyone out there who thinks my opinions are shit and I need to be shut down at times will perhaps want to have a listen once the thing is finally recorded and up. I'm really looking forward to it. We're ultimately not sure where we'll post the files once they're done but I'll be certain to put a post up on here when we do.

So don't give up on me just yet kids. Daddy still loves you, he just had to go away for a while. But daddy's back now and I promise I won't leave you, or your mother, ever again.

Red Dead Redemption

Just in case you were worried about me blogging about something up to date and cool todays blog post will be a review of a game about one year old that I only just got around to finishing.So let me take you back a couple of months. When it came to doing the obligatory "Best of" list for 2010 many a respected gaming publication placed Red Dead Redemption somewhere dangerously close to the top. Now as many of my more avid readers, stalkers and close friends will know my favourite game of 2010 was (by a fucking lot) Bayonetta, which many "respected gaming publications" put on the lower end of said list. In fact as far as I saw the only gaming media to give the GOTY to Bayonetta was the Australian gaming magazine Hyper, which instantly reminded me why I opt to still buy magazine's when the internet is so convenient and cheap. So kudos to you Hyper, because Red Dead Redemption is most certainly not better than Bayonetta.

Let me get one thing clear from the outset. I liked Red Dead Redemption. Just keep this knowledge nestled safely in the deep recesses of your mind as I go forth and tell you exactly what Rockstar did wrong, because despite the massive list of flaws I found in the game the overall experience was a positive one. So let's assume you are extremely out of touch with mainstream gaming and want to know what Red Dead Redemption, one of the most popular titles of 2010, is about. Well then my cave dwelling friend, RDR is best described as a cowboy game in which you, John Marston, must track down and kill all your old lawbreaking buddies in exchange for your families safe return. That's essentially the entirety of the games plot, which is nice and simple with a clear goal but somehow the game managed to make me forget this along the way. There was a point in the game where John was in Mexico working for both the rebels and the oppressive government at the same time and I had completely forgotten why I was doing any of this stuff. The sincerity of your motivations get blurred and muddled somewhat along the way in this story. In cutscenes John is often seen strongly resisting morally dubious missions and questioning the reliablity and integrity of the people who he sides with but at the end of the day he'd just follow orders like an old sheep, completely shedding all doubts and emotion he'd just expressed. It ironically inhibits the feeling of freedom the game is so desperate to give you through the mutiverse of crappy side games you can partake in like blackjack or wild horse taming. This is because you, as the player, are forced to sit back and watch as your character does something you know is incredibly stupid as you remain powerless to help. This is a character you are supposed to have control of, that's why you're called "the player!"

I felt the story itself, although overall pretty good, was told in completely the wrong order. At the start of the game you're more or less dropped into the middle of some mission and it's not for another hour or so that you start to understand just who the fuck you are and what the fuck you're doing. On the other end of the specra, the last couple of hours of the game drag themselves out unneccessarily long in order to hastily develope some of the main characters before the big climax. This might sound reasonable if your were to look at it purely from the storytelling point of view but this affects gameplay too. Essentially it means that having just spent the majority of the game in epic gunfights you are now forced to play through a rather lengthy sequence of cattle round ups and fetch quests which play out exactly the fucking same as the tedious tutorial missions from the start of the game.

This somewhat roughly brings me to my next topic, the gameplay. At best the gameplay is adequet; you aim your gun at things you want to kill and hide behind things when you don't feel like being shot anymore. At worst the gameplay is somewhat sticky and imprecise. Character movement in general is in desperate need of a complete overhaul. Trying to run between cover or indeed run to a ladder and briskly climb it is almost guaranteed to frustrate you. This is because John's reactions feel quite delayed and navigating him into the exact position in which the game will allow him to climb a ladder or take cover can be incredibly frustrating. This aspect of the gameplay is pretty hard to express with words, but if you've played Grand Theft Auto IV you should know exactly what I mean because RDR plays in exactly the same way. What isn't so hard to explain is the day and night mechanic. You see as you play RDR the time actually passes in the game world as well, albeit considerably faster. During the day the world is your oyster for you to skip gayley through shooting outlaws and looting their bodies. But come nightfall the shops shut and most of the missions become unavailable due to plot important characters being asleep. Fair enough you might think, that's certainly more realistic. But what this means is that the game forces you to find something to do while you wait for the next piece of the story to become available. Yeah that's right, while you kill time playing this game your character kills time waiting for the next job. It's totally meta...in a completely retarded sort of way. Granted, you can skip ahead 6 hours or so if you're in a fairly specific location and the game's in a good mood but sometimes getting to these spots puts you considerably out of your way. It's this stupid situation in which I have to make a big journey out of my way just so I can set up camp, skip ahead to daylight hours and go back to where I was in the first place so I can progress in the story. I suppose this is the games way of encouraging me to participate in all the card games and flower picking I had been ignoring all this time. Which brings me to my final, overall criticism of Red Dead Redemption.

In short, this game is way too big. It's not the healthy, physically fit kind of big that makes ladies weak at the knees. It's a flabby, wheezing kind of big that stands behind you in the line at McDonalds breathing heavily and moistly down your neck whilst you try to ignore it and avoid eye contact. My initial statement still stands, I had fun with Red Dead Redemption but the fun is burried and hidden amoungst the over-reaching ambition to create a game with massive scope. I know a lot of people have trouble understanding why a game giving you more stuff to do is a bad thing so let me put it like this. If I were to stuff an entire box of fine Belgian chocolates into my mouth I wouldn't be enjoying it more than if I'd had just the one. This is because I'd be choking, and the negetive feeling of danger coupled with impending death far outweighs the good feelings of tasting something yummy. For me the fun in Red Dead Redemption was there, but it was definately stuggling to breathe.

P.S. welcome to exam time bitches! I daresay posts will be scarce for the next month or so as I desperately try to get all my course work done. I know you guys will be patient. You'd have to be to stick with this shit regularly.

Some Pictures of Things

Gosh darn it I'm running out of blog titles it would seem. Well good ones anyway. But moving hastily away from that completely dry heading I have some pictures I'd like to share with you and discuss. I took these photo's so that I could share some humour with you and hopefully bring some cheer into your joyless lives. There's no time quite like the present so let's just jump right in.

In my line of work (gosh I'm a wanker) I am exposed to a wide variety of products. This first picture is of a product I find particularly fascinating. Not because I love knitting or shawls or anything else that makes me sound like a geriatric homosexual. No I'm fascinated by the unorthodox advertising strategy in place here. Just look at this woman. Does she look happy with her shawl? Does she look happy with her life? Does this glittery, hand knitted gift make her feel anything even a notch above suicidal? The answer to all is "no". I haven't a clue what is going on with this picture. Was this really the best the marketing group could do? My best guess is that this lady owed someone a massive favour and was forced to pose in an outfit she deemed hideous but failed to muster up any enthusiasm for the photoshoot. Either that or she literally has a gun to her head. It's the brutal honesty of this advertising that fascinates me most of all. It's like everyone at the company is well aware the old ladies are going to be using these patterns to humiliate their grandchildren and decided to just run with the "spreading misery" angle.

This last picture depicts a shopping list I found in a carpark after work one night. I was strangely drawn to it's rustic look. The overly cursive writing and yellowed paper again put me in mind of a knick-knack filled grandparents home. As sad as it is to admit this, I actually picked this up and immediately said to myself "if I put this on my blog then I'll be like a real blogger." Then something else slightly amusing caught my eye. Written in urgent, block letters accross the top are the words "COFFEE" and "CIGARETTES" apparently written by the resident addict during a stage of desperate withdrawal. It's funny to imagine this washed out middle-aged man sharing a house with his nan who kindly hands him an ugly, hand-knitted jumper to wear. Suppressing frustrations the man then storms out of the room to look for coffee and finds only a wide selection of jams in the cupboard. Massaging his brow and exhaling loadly the man then goes for his cigarettes and, upon finding only an empty box, grabs the shopping list and aggressively adds his required items; screaming out "COFFEE! CIGARETTES!" through his clenched teeth as he does so. Although the list also has vintage cheese in capitols, so maybe I'm just full of shit?

Friday, Rebecca Black and the Internet

Happy Nailed to Wood Day readers! I hope we all went out today and played a small part in the death of somebody's deity. So yes it's Easter Friday over here in Australia and I thought it presented a golden opportunity to talk about Rebecca Black, her song "Friday" and why the internet is balls. I guess this post could've easily been done on any Friday but fuck it, if the whole "dying for our sins" story isn't going to even bother making any sense at all then I don't see why I can't make a teensy weensy stretch every now and then.

So anyway as I'm sure all you computer savvy types are aware Rebecca Black is some underage American girl who managed to do the impossible and record a song that has more dislikes on Youtube than Justin Bieber. For anyone who isn't familiar with the song here's the link. Now you have no excuses.

Now because my family are an ironic bunch we actually have a Friday morning ritual where we gather 'round a computer and share the awful hilarity that is this song. Now that is not to say we actually like this song. We just find it hilariously bad. But there's also something sweet and endearing about it's complete lack of quality and inspiration. I actually think Rebecca Black is a bit adorable in a completely non-creepy kind of way. The way she sings her garbage song with a big smile on her face and sways around enthusiastically without even a hint of exploiting her womanly wares is so endearing. Rebecca Black looks like she's purely in it for the fun, fun, fun, fun; which is actually refreshing in todays cynical, marketing fueled, bleak existence we find ourselves in.

But the internet can be a harsh place. On the internet every single person is on a soapbox and decided to projectile vomit instead of giving a speech. The annonymitty the internet allows us has also allowed for the growth of giant, errect dicks on everyones heads. Everyone developes a sort of twisted messiah complex, which I guess makes this post relevant to Easter after all. I mention this because Rebecca Black, who is 14 or some shit, is getting absolutely flamed by every man and his dog and some of it gets quite nasty. In an interview a reporter tactlessly asks Rebecca "have any of these comments made you cry?" Rebecca attempted to brush the question aside but luckily the reporter was there to remind her of some of the worst ones she's read. "I hope you develope and eating disorder and become attractive" the trashy journo quotes. Rebecca chokes up slightly but manages to brave through it all with more than just a hint of that youthful enthusiasm seen in her video. Rebecca even made a rather humorous video that claimed various bullshit metaphores and subtexts were present in the song, making it much deeper than most people were aware. And that's why I like her I guess. She was way too young to be exposing her crappy pop song to the festering swamps of the internet but at least she is able to shrug it off and have a laugh about it.

So I guess my point here is this. Don't be such a fucking awful jerk. I know it's the internet and you like to shock people with your references to Hitler and suicide. There's a thousand differences between being clever or cynical and just being a plain old cunt. I realise I'm literally powerless to stop such behaviour but I tell you what. If I have at least one crazed fan out there who hospitalizes someone who actually wished death or rape on Rebecca Black then my blog will have been worth it.