bafflegab.org

(I think we need new categories, not that we really use the ones we’ve got very much-anything at all in Books?-but we either make everything commentariat or soapbox ranting, or we make new categories and then utilise them. What-say-you? … err, this would be under ‘competition’, and the prize? Our thanks? Your name in lights?…)

I’d like to ask our intimate readers to think about a time when smiles, laughter and sunshine were brought down to earth with a bump. Was it something someone said? An act of god that made it clear just how the world works? This second category is a bit ambiguous, I am not keen to hear about evidence that god is a supreme ironist, we’ll save that for later. I want, as the title suggests, an anecdote about how the mood was changed- not from happy to sad, but from happy to happy with an appreciation of its own mortality. I hope that this example suffices…

• The day dawns, the morning of my twentieth birthday. Sunshine, good feeling, I am a man- young, (virile?), confident, in a mood for celebration. As I sit down with my morning coffee, my father offers me this advice: “Well, Rabbit, today you turn twenty. And from now on, you’ll feel the same inside, and it’ll be the world that’s changing all around you. Then one day you’ll wake up and find you’re fifty-six.”

Well. This might well be true, and it was given with the best intent. It certainly gave my starry-eyed and youthful enthusiasm something to consider. Not unwelcome, but unexpected- my dad gives good advice, and I’m glad he said this… but it did give a different tone to the day.

Readers, your stories please, of sombre realism in a time of laughter.

- Posted by Rabbit Zero.

We know you’re out there: BWP checks the viewing statistics every now and then. Yes, we know you’re out there: our audience! Welcome, welcome, we’re very glad that you could make it. Yes, we have readers, out there literally in their tens of thousands.We’ve recently been privileged to receive our first comment from someone other than Bonus Wave Pilot or Rabbit Zero- thank you, Jemima Pereira. (I regret to inform you that the paper you seek is, like everything else in that post, completely fictitious. My sincere apologies- though I can report that BWP thought it was based on something genuine. And part of me suspects that, rather than you missing my irony, I might have missed yours…?)

And, for those who have considered making a post, please, be my guest (or, be guests of both me and B’Duyba, I’m not fussed). After all, what’s the worst thing that could happen? Like immigration from New Zealand to Australia: the average IQ in both countries is increased! -This joke also works for immigrating from Canada to the US of A, Ireland to the UK, whatever country you prefer to whatever country you dislike, preferably where a long-standing cultural ambivalence exists… like the one that exists between you and your cousins-by-marriage, forced into close quarters over Christmas. And wasn’t that fun? Sure, they’re family, but normally they’re family on the other side of the country, which is just how we like ‘em. Bloody black sheep.

(Was that all a bit of a non sequitur? That’ll learn me to think before I write, and draft, draft, draft… hleps avoid spelling mistakes, too. The analogy with the joke is meant to suggest that, no matter what you post, it’s a good bet that the overall quality of the blog will increase.)

Anyway, please, comment away. Along with the low quality of my posts, I should also apologise for the infrequency with which I post. Its normally avoidance behaviour of a sort: avoiding the shopping, the dishes, my thesis, etc. (To a similar end, I have recently been exploring the wonderful world of flash games.)

Still, it’s great to be part of the blogosphere. And, in defence of infrequency, during my occasional half-arsed traipsings through that great collective Warholian experience that is the world of blog, I’ve found that there are a number of bloggers out there who pretty much just quote or link to other sites. Strikes me as a wee bit lazy. Perhaps we’ll find ourselves eventually in a blog-world where all is linked to all, but with precious little connection to the real world. Like the stockmarket, for instance.

Until then, though, B’Dubya and I will keep writing material which, though perhaps a little irregular in quality or frequency, is original nonetheless. For, as Stephen Gosson said, He that readeth good writers and pickes out their flowres for his own nose, is lyke a foole.

- Posted by Rabbit Zero.

I was musing recently on what I would challenge the reaper to, if I had the chance. (For those who haven’t the faintest what I’m talking about, I refer to Bergman’s film The Seventh Seal wherein a knight plays chess with death for the right to go on living, and to a certain extent to Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey, where they eponymous Bill & Ted challenge death to Battleship, and Twister, amongst others - they must play several times before a sore-losing death will honour the contract.)

So, here are my current favourites. Feedback, abuse etc. gladly solicited.

Challenges for Death:

• Battleships (In homage to Bill and Ted’s)
• Twister (In homage to Bill and Ted’s)
• Tetris Attack
• Go Fish
• Rounders
• Freestyle rap battle
• Spelling bee
• Paintball
• TV dating game
• Pro wrestling

Granted, rounders is a team sport, but if a group were due to die at the same time, and death could scrounge a team together…

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So, there are a few Iron Chef drinking games out there, and the initial suggestions about Iron Chef will tell you a fair bit about what version of the show we get down under (courtesy of SBS) and what I think about when I watch it… and I haven’t watched it that much, although it is a blopdy good show.

We get the Japanese version, current chefs: Hiroyuki Sakai (French), Rokusaburo Michiba (Japanese) Chen Kenichi (Chinese). I have seen an Iron Chef Italian, but I’ve never seen him challenged.

Right, let the quaffing of beverages commence…

Chairman Kaga…

• Suggests that the two chefs will no doubt have an epic battle: 1 drink.
• Tells personal anecdote about key ingredient: 1 drink.
• Tells long-winded story about key ingredient: 1 drink.
• Story has too much schmaltz and melodrama: 2 drinks.
• Story has just enough schmaltz and melodrama: 1 drink.
• At the end, you wish that he’d just stop bullshitting and tell us who won the battle: finish your drink.

Challenger…

• Is female: 1 drink.
• Is not Japanese: 1 drink.
• Beats Iron Chef: 2 drinks.
• Has previous history or long-running animosity towards an Iron Chef: 2 drinks.
• … As above, but challenges a different Iron Chef: 3 drinks.
• Has previous history with family member of Iron Chef: 2 drinks.
• Cooked for famous person: 1 drink.
• Every additional mention of that same famous customer: 1 drink.

Judges and commentators…

• Doctor Hattori correctly guesses what the chefs will do: 1 drink.
• He incorrectly guesses what the chefs will do: 1 drink.
• Every mention of Sakai’s skill with sauces: 1 drink.
• From the floor, Ohta confirms what has just been said: 1 drink.
• Chef is terse or short in answering Ohta’s questions: 1 drink.
• You suspect the chef wants Ohta to get out of his way and let him cook: 1 drink.
• Female guest judge says very little: e.g., “Wow! This is amazing!”, etc.: 1 drink.
• Female guest judge only giggles, no other useful comments: 2 drinks.
• You wonder why the translators always dub the female guest judge’s voice to be ultra-girly: 2 drinks.
• You aren’t sure whether it is done to satisfy stereotypes of Japan, or those held by Japanese society: 3 drinks.
• Male guest judge talks at length, interupting female guest: 1 drink.
• Every time after the first: 1 drink.
• Male guest judge has wacky qualification, nothing to do with cooking, e.g. Egyptologist: 2 drinks.
• Foodie scholar judge is female: 1 drink.
• You ask youself, ‘Just what the Hell is a rosanjin scholar, anyway?’: finish drink.
• Chefs very obsequious to judges: 1 drink.

Iron Chefs…

• Bitch and moan about the ingredient: 2 drinks.
• Sakai bitches and moans about ingredient: 1 drink.
• Do some jaw-dropping presentation piece: 2 drinks.
• You think, even for a moment, ‘I could do that.’: 3 drinks.
• You suspect that people challenging Sakai all the time shows he must be a prick in real life: 2 drinks.
• Injures himself: 3 drinks.
• Colossal fuck-up of dishes: 3 drinks.
• Prepares extra dish in closing minutes, just ‘cos he could: 2 drinks.

Ingredient…

• Fungus: 2 drinks.
• Seafood: 1 drink.
• Ludicrously expensive: 1 drink.
• Quintessentially Japanese food, e.g. sea urchin: finish drink.

Well, that’s it. I reccomend that one drink = one finger of a beer or wine. Do not touch goon, and play with spirits at own risk.

No responsibilities taken for alcohol poisoning that might result- let us know if you think of new categories or drink-worthy actions.

- Posted by Rabbit Zero

Title: The Machinist

Actors: Christian Bale, Aitana Sánchez-Gijón, John Sharian, Jennifer Jason Leigh

Director: Brad Anderson

Year: 2004

Rating: 8/10

Surreal and grim. Impeccably stylish story of machinist Trevor Reznik who has not slept in a year, and has become an emaciated wreck. (Bale lost so much weight for this role it made me wince when he turned side-on.)

Reznik begins to question his sanity when a co-worker helps precipitate some nasty events, and his other colleagues claim they have never heard of the guy. Things get pretty strange as he starts finding foreboding post-it notes like the ones he habitually leaves himself, but with odd messages on them.

Film does the trick we’ve seen a bit of jumping around in time, and possibly between fantasy and reality, but manages to pull off the tension between becoming confusing and not being too predictable quite well. The technique of putting an earlier scene in context with new information is used well, not just to explain the scenes, but in some cases to make them more horrifying after the fact.

Stylistically, it bears some similarity to Fight Club occasionally. It does not use CG so much, but for example uses the effect of applying a camera distortion to a scene at one point in order to provide an extra ‘hook’ to memory that can be referred back to. (Though they are not as “po-mo” as the cigar burns and camera shake of FC).

There is some weird crossover stuff happening in the world of massively multiplayer games. Or to be more precise, at the points where they intersect with ‘real world’ economics. Gold farming has become enough of an industry in itself to spark much debate. There are those who are mainly concerned with the virtual sweatshop practices which have resulted from the profitability of farming, and those who object mainly on the grounds that it buggers up the ‘enclosed’ nature of the gaming world, removing its separation from the real one. It certainly changes the nature of the reward structure of a game if a wealthy player can simply buy in-game status and equipment, and deliberate mass-production of in-game currency tends to lead to inflation, again disadvantaging legitimate players.

What I am waiting for, though, is the first occurance of problems of intellectual property in online games. I am not speaking here so much of issues of ownership of the character itself, or the virtual objects which may have been accumulated as with works of art or engineering which may have been created within the game itself. If you have an online game with a fairly accurate physics system, what if you manage while playing around with water-pipes, barrels and a well-cast fireball to create a new efficient engine system? To use a less far-fetched example, say you’re in in-game conversation with some people, and you are inspired to compose a poem/bust a freestyle/tell a short story/ produce some kind of in-game artwork which maintains its value as IP irrespective of the medium it’s stored in. Under the game-company’s licensing, what are your rights to the work you produced? Is it considered to have been broadcasted in public? Is it therefore in the public domain, or might you cite the logs of the server as evidence of your prior publishment if someone does rip it off?

What of fanfiction? Or machinima?

The obvious response is “so don’t post stuff to these games if you don’t want it out in the infosphere”. Given the number of people playing these things, though, and the determination of the companies which run them to attract more players for more hours, the likelihood of this becoming a real issue is increasing. I think intellectual property as distinct from the ‘virtual property’ of in-game objects is interesting because it requires no auction-house crossover point. You might need ebay or similar to act as an intemediary to turn your real-world dollars into an in-game scroll, but the text or image on that scroll can be spread or altered with existing tools and networks very easily indeed. It is this independance from the in-game mechanics which makes IP on MMORPG worth consideration. The people running the server can’t be relied on to enforce this sort of thing, nor should they; but the assumption that players are assuming a role when they play these games also means that their interactions, including speeches, poems etc. are to some extent the province of their avatar, rather than themselves.  You would not expect the real-life player to be bound by a contract his gnomish thief had signed, nor would you charge him for assault when his half-orc barbarian attacks another player.

In any case, it’s a weird enough space to try to enforce any property laws in, let alone the rather more ethereal issues of intellectual property.

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