I Pissed Someone Off Up There......

So if you read this blog on occasion you may have noticed that I have not posted in the last 2+ weeks. Well, I have been an atheist for as long as I can remember but I think perhaps I have been wrong and there's a really pissed off god out there waving his godly staff of power in my direction. Here's what's been happening over in magx01 land. Try not to choke when you laugh at this bullshit.

-Air conditioning broke. Cannot fix right now (bad financial situation after the recent loss of a job contract)

Okay, no big deal. It's just me here so meh. I've been letting cold air in at night and keeping the place shuttered tight during the day. Windows open on the odd cool day. No wife to bitch and moan and make it sound like the world is ending so in the end, eh.

Then this happens:

Guy ran a red light going 80km/h and destroyed my car (a second car, the one behind me, hit me after I spun which is why there are two impact sites). I walked away with a smashed up left knee and nothing else so I cannot complain too much. It's been 2 weeks now and the knee is like 70-80% better already :)

Okay, so two shitty things, but both are not too bad in the grand scheme of things, right?

-Three days after the accident, I hobble over to my freezer upon awakening in the morning to get an ice pack to ice the giant swollen painful knee when I discover that........my fridge/freezer is no longer working!!!!

Okay, now wtf. I'm a calm dude who takes a lot of shit in stride but even I had to yell out "OH COME ON!!!! WHAT THE FUCK NOW?!" (I did laugh after, but it was more of an anxious laugh than a truly legitimate heehaw laugh). Ugh, so I call the repair dudes and the come and fix it the next day. $140 which I really cannot afford right now but it needs to be done so I do it. I ice my knee three times that night and go to bed relieved, money issues aside. I wake up the next day, and I wal-wait, what's that sound? Oh, NO FUCKING WAY.....that's the noise the fridge was making before it broke (click buzz, click buzz). I go over to it, open it and.....

(wait for it)

ITS BROKEN AGAIN!!!!!!

At this point I just felt defeated. I call the repair guys, they come back the next day and the good news is they tore up my cheque and only charged me $60 instead (they took back the part they installed the day previous). The bad news? I need a new fridge. I spend several days hobbling back and forth between my house and my neighbours' to get and hand them food/drinks/ice packs they are storing for me.

-Insurance comes through on the replacement value of the car. The settlement they offer is fairly reasonable, thankfully. I'll be able to get something similar. They tell me the cheque will be here in 5-10 business days. Cool, right? I'll drive my rental car for now, the cheque comes and I go car shopping, buy something, return the rental. Right?

BZZZT. Wrong. The rental needs to be returned tomorrow. "But I don't even have the money yet, how can I buy a car? And how can I get there without a rental?" "Well sir, you can pay out of pocket for the rental." "Out of pocket? This happened because the guy ran a red light. He was charged for this. I was totally innocent and now I am being penalized? How is this in any way reasonable or fair?" "I agree sir, but there's nothing I can do."

*sigh*

Moral of the story: Don't lose a job/contract if you're an atheist because someone up there will choose that time to turn his giant magnifying glass on your tiny little life.

Article: Woman Burnt To Death By Would Be Muggers For Having No Money On Her

A violent gang of thieves in Brazil burned a woman to death after stealing her credit card and finding she had less than £10 on it. The teenage thugs burst into the office of dentist Cinthya Magaly Moutinho de Souza, in Sao Paulo, shortly after midday on Thursday while she was treating a patient. They demanded the 46-year-old hand over all her money. But when a petrified Ms de Souza said she had none she gave them her credit card and PIN. One of the criminals held her and her client hostage while the others went to a cash point to empty her account – only to find she had less than £10 in it. The furious men returned, doused her with alcohol and set her on fire. They put a hood over the head of the patient, who heard Ms de Souza screaming at her attackers: “Don’t do it.”

LINK

This is absolutely horrendous. Imagine being at work when suddenly a few gang members burst in and minutes later you're screaming in agony as you burn to death. And to think that one of the offenders was a mere 17 years of age. Unreal. 

Why So Serious?

Why So Serious?

Why the fuck are games so serious now? Back in the day, games were made to be fun. Now, a lot of the time, it seems to be that games are made to approximate the experience you get in a Hollywood blockbuster or whatever. They have to have all of the elements in place that make a big, immersive, “realistic” experience, and while that can be, and often is, great, and effective.....CHILL THE FUCK OUT A BIT! Sometimes I hear the word “realistic” in an interview or read it in a press release and I inwardly groan, because in my view, this often time comes at the expense of fun.

Think about it: “Realistic” means no cheats. No new game+. The restrictions imposed by the rules of physics and such. You know, sometimes it would be nice to be able to jump 30 feet high, turn on no gravity, big heads, paintball mode, infinite ammo, and other cheats, start a game with an overpowered character, and just HAVE FUN. No story, no drama, no rules, no realism. Just quirky, chaotic, crazy fun.

Like the old days.

And yes, I know these games still exist, but you must admit the balance has certainly shifted towards the serious and “realistic.” Take the FPS genre for example. I'm bored as shit with FPS games, and perhaps this realism thing is a part of it (perhaps, I'm not saying it is for sure, and it certainly wouldn't be all of it!). Every shooter seems to be a military shooter with real weapons. How about some crazy jumping, get those reflexes ready, twitch based craziness with completely over the top weapons and abilities? Let's get crazy!

Look at Earth Defence Force 2017: The game looks like shit, sounds like shit, has terrible dialogue, terrible cutscenes, a poor story, broken fucking vehicle control, ridiculous, over the top....well, everything, and it's a FUCKING BLAST!!! It reminds of me of old school games. You start shooting and you don't stop shooting until every last gigantic spider and gigantic, acid shooting out of their asses ant is dead. You use a huge variety of all sorts of fun weaponry, half of which are ridiculously unrealistic, and, get this: the gigantic space alien bugs that you fight drop weapon, armour and health pickups that are represented by a terrible looking 2D icon. I LOVE THAT! Just adds to the old school game/'B' movie vibe.

Realism can be great. Some games are so incredibly immersive because of their realistic and serious tone, but it can get really fucking redundant when they all start being made in a similar vein. Crazy jumps, wonky physics, out of control situations, over the top dialogue, jokes galore, etc. Games are supposed to be fun. I often wish the focus would be more on fun than it is on making the game 'AAA' and shipping 5 million units because the kids got to feel like they were a U.S. Marine for 8 hours.....or at least think they felt like one (they have no idea....and neither do I, but I know a game certainly doesn't approximate the experience). That's the thing, a game will always be a game, so maybe they should keep that in mind.

But maybe it's just me.

Through the Eyes of a Fighter

The theme of this story is:

Persistence and Sacrifice

To get in the mood for this, please watch the following 24 second video clip:



Now THAT'S exactly what this is going to be about. This blog is going to take you on a journey. A journey through the mind of an MMA (mixed martial arts) fighter during an MMA bout. I will be using fictionalized characters, but the Persistence and Sacrifice will be anything but fiction....if I do my job right, that is.

I apologize to anyone out there who knows MMA (or competes in it) if I don't do my job as a writer, and fail to capture the true essence of the qualities needed to compete in the gruelling sport that is mixed martial arts.

And so, all of the preamble now behind us, let's join our two fighters in the cage. The referee, 'Big' John McCarthy, is about to signal the start of the bout with his famous line:

Gentlemen! Are You Ready? Are You Ready? Let's Get It On, Guys!

Another Story Opener

Remember this:? http://magx01.blogspot.com/2010/12/short-story-starter.html

Well, I have a second short story starter for anyone who may be looking for ideas to springboard into a story. This is the beginning to a story I wrote recently, and it was brought on by a single line: "If it was my world...." I give to you not just that line, but the beginning of the tale, in the hopes that I can help someone get out of a slump/writer's block. Good luck to anyone that uses this, and if you do, post the results in the comment section if you wish!

The intro:

Short Story Starter

This is the beginning of a new story I am currently in the process of writing. I have no idea where I am going to end up, nor how I am going to get there, and I am currently sans title, but the idea of this story has me very intrigued, and I am reminded of one of the things about writing that amazes me: it's entirely possible for the author of a tale to have no idea where a story is going, nor have any knowledge of where it will end up. You can often be as in the dark about the details as your eventual readers will be. I find that fascinating. Anyways, here's the opening of the tale, and if a potential, even placeholder title pops out at you, let me know.      

     I kick the stool out from under me and drop. The slack rope tightens violently, the noose viciously choking off my vital air supply. My neck does not snap as I thought it would- I guess that's only in the movies. I am choking to death. I frantically grasp at the noose, trying desperately to free myself, to alleviate the horrible pressure and quiet the alarm bells ringing in my brain, as my bodies' survival mechanisms kick into high gear and try to erase the actions taken since I made the decision to do this to myself. My efforts are futile. There is absolutely no way out of this. I'm seeing shades of red, of purple, and of grey, as I choke. My body is swinging to and fro, as I continue the futile attempt at rescue. As the seconds turn into minutes, these efforts slow. Things begin to darken, and, just before everything goes dark, my mind's eye settles on the image of the thing that led me to decide to do this to myself this morning: the North American Robin sitting on my window sill.

Footsteps on the Stairs- A (Very) Short Story

I wrote this just now on a whim, and it represents a departure for me in that it mostly takes place in the reader's imagination, as opposed to taking place on the page as all of my other writing has. Not sure if this will work or not but it's worth a shot.   

     Ariana lay trembling, listening to the footsteps on the stairs marking her Aunt's slow ascent to her third story bedroom. Or, perhaps more precisely, her third story prison. It was just around sunset on a spring day. The date was April 15th, 1978. Ariana had last been outside of that particular room on September 24th, 1975.

Writing a New Short Story. Any Animators out there? Help Possibly Needed!

I just started to write a short story, and although I am only on page 2, I see potential in this thing to go a lot farther than one short story. I am thinking that a series of stories might be in order, and they might even be worthy of being turned into animated shorts for the internet. If anyone reading this happens to do computer animation, please leave me a comment, as I do not have any knowledge in this area, and so to make this idea come to fruition, I will require some help.

The Answers Lie Just Out of Reach (post 2 for the Day!)

The answers lie just out of reach....

He turned to her, and in a rare moment of immodesty and uninhibited vulnerability, he laid his weary head on her bare shoulder, and, taking in the smell of her perfume (he couldn't place the scent, but he knew it was cheap, and this only served to widen his despair) he spoke.

''The truth lies just across the pond, and the water is shallow; however, I have not the energy to wade that chasm, for its depth is deceptive. The answers will take that pond and render it an ocean, one I have not the means, nor the will, to cross. And so, at the risk of remaining ignorant, I must stay on land, and watch as both my feet and my resolve dry up and whither away to a fine dust, which, with the first cool breeze, will be picked up and strewn across that very pond, in the ultimate act of irony. For you see, there is irony in death, and the ironic thig is, I welcome that loathsome state, for with its barreness and melancholoy, it brings the thing I crave least, and most: rest. Rest for the weary head I know rest upon your overburndened and sun kissed shoulder.

I love you, Melinda, but I also despise you, and you me.

Come with me, if you will.''

And, rasing his weary head, he held out his hand. Without waiting to see if she would grasp it, he waded out into the body of water, and, as she watched, sheltering her eyes from the sun which glistened brightly, almost obscenely, off of its serene surface, the body of water opened up and swalloed him whole. The cavernous maw of irony had taken him, and she knew that it was for the best. Sighing, she waded in after him.

Don't ask. This was just a random, impromptu thing I typed up in the middle of a conversation about finding answers and wading in the dark, stumbling around blind until your way is illuminated by knowledge, and how sometimes the journey is so difficult we don't embark upon it.....or we do, but we do it reluctantly, and sometimes wish we didn't have this passion residing within us. How easy it would be! To just forsake the truth for whatever explanation pampered us.

How easy, indeed.

Oh, speaking of easy.....