The Future is Now or “The King is Dead… Long live the King.”

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I am many things.

Dad n' Pooka

Father, son, partner.

photo

Comic book geek, Sci-Fi aficionado, television and film connoisseur.

Musical eclectic, fan of profession sports, admirer of art.

overworked-writer1

I am a writer of fiction, am politically active, and socially aware.

Pride 2012Minnie

I believe in free speech, am an advocate for LGBT rights, and respect the diversity of the culture to which I was unwittingly born.

War is Hell...War against nature that is....

Overweight & out of shape, with terrible issues involving mental illness, and aging… I am your ordinary average American. And yet I am special.

Why? Because I am an ORIGINAL GAMER.

It was my generation at ground zero for the true birth of video games and we changed the world.

Do you remember when video games were a spinning paper reel of roadway with a few blinking lights, ringing bells, and a little metal car that moved side to side on a wire? I do.

I was there for the hey-day of the stand-up arcade & its inevitable demise, the release of the first home console units in the early eighties, and the turbo-boosted cartridge wars of the nineties.

In the last decade, I bore witnessed to the rise of the big three from the ashes of the cartridge war and have been lucky enough to live in the “Age of the Console.”

What was once a child’s toy has become an integral part of every-day life to millions around the globe and I am proud to say I was there for all of it..

I am an ORIGINAL GAMER.

Gamerz

I have saved Pitfall Harry, fought lickers in Raccoon City, and single-handedly saved the world from Sephiroth’s might.

Online, I have raced Aussies across battle scarred mountain passes in the wee hours of the morning, and fought knee deep in alien blood side by side with modern day digital samurai from Japan.

My generation is the bedrock on which a billion dollar industry now stands tall.

Image Source: Forbes.com

Image Source:
Forbes.com

Don’t let my age fool you. Despite the gravelly voice on the Mic; a gift from ten thousand dangling cigarettes, or the diminishing alacrity in my left/right strafing skill with time, I am still OG.

I may be dogmeat most days but occasionally I am deadly with a frag grenade/shotgun combo and guess what? I will be flinging those suckers till the day I die.

Why? Because I’m OG B*%$#@&!!!

The reason for my seemingly random gamer post today? HALO 4 and the rejection of Microsoft’s flagship title as a competitive platform by the Pro-Gaming league: MLG.

MLG

IMHO: One of the dreams of my generation has been the idea that video gaming would be elevated to the same level of social consciousness as other professional sports like the NBA, MLB, NFL, and NASCAR.

Gamerz2

Born from mountain dew laced dreams and unchecked teenage angst. Encouraged in the theaters by sappy films like The Wizard, “sexy-time” movie Joysticks, and recently NOOBZ; my whole life had been filled with visions of competitive eGaming.

gaming

It is my generation that built, bought, and birthed a bevy of organized professional gaming leagues. From Madden Nation, and the World Cyber Games to the MLG, the current incarnation of eGaming is a direct result of the children of the eighties & nineties and our need to enthusiastically pass it on to our spawn.

My personal obsession with Pro-gaming truly came to life in the spring of 2002 on a random trip to the game store with a friend. After years of being a loyal fan of the Sony PlayStation, I was introduced to Microsoft’s newest product; the XBox. Although not really in the market for a new console, I hefted the massive “DUKE” controller for the first time that day at the behest my friend, and haven’t looked back since.

The demo playing on the monitor that day: HALO

250px-Halo_Combat_Evolved_cover

Yes, I still flirt with Sony every once in awhile. When a new console comes out, or a new handheld hits the market, I always give it a try. My relationship with gaming consoles has been like being in a really great marriage because despite the flirting, I always come home to the Xbox and Master Chief.

Back in the old days… Long before the birth of the MLG and the WCG, it was local level LAN tourneys and monday night rumble pits for those of us hardcore enough to drag around our console and television. We would battle it out late into the night, talking smack from three feet way instead of on-Mic, and always leave with a sense of joy at the senseless slaughter we had reeked on family and friends alike.

It was in the downtime, when hours and days would drag by till the next competition, that the dream would take flight. All of us huddled around our TV’s would imagine that ultimate glorious moment when ordinary guys like us could step in the ring, bang armor with the best of the best, and walk away with cash in our pockets for the effort.

Early in the 00′s; fueled by the introduction of high speed internet and the release of multi-player titles like Halo 2 & 3, Counterstrike, & Unreal Tournament, the console generation quickly found itself rocketing towards legitimate Pro-gaming.

The dreams of organized, professional eGaming were suddenly no longer a dream. That fantasy living on the precipice between the ethereal and reality, E-gaming jumped off that cliff and soared into the stratosphere backed by a mainstream media obsessed with the amount of money flooding into the gaming industry.

Everybody wanted a piece of the pie and even now, despite a downturn in the economy as well as a general lull in the media coverage, professional gaming is alive and well. A massive amount of money changes hands every year in cash prizes, swag, and endorsement deals to reward the best & brightest gamers on the stick.

My generation’s dream is a reality and yet I am sad.

Why? This recent article by Paul Tassi in Forbes Magazine where he discusses the realities of HALO 4 being left out of the line-up for MLG’s Winter and Spring competitions.

Beyond the obvious corporate implications of the MLG versus an alignment between Microsoft and Virgin Gaming with their new Tournament App on the 360, the implications of Mr. Tassi’s article are not unfounded. HALO has changed.

The differences between H3, Reach, and H4 are having a deleterious affect on the multi-player community. Special armor “abilities” like Armor lock and Jetpack, random armament drops, customizable load-outs, have caused its once rabid fanbase to abandon Microsoft’s flagship title. As a result, this beloved FPS had finally fallen from its place atop the mountain of Pro-competitive play.

Mr. Tassi’s is correct in the idea that uniformity is required in league play to create an even playing field. It is only through conformity on the field of play that the true skills of any athlete, in any sport, will come to light. This is why the equipment in all major organized professional sports is tested and identical for both opponents.

Don’t get me wrong.

I am a hardcore HALO fan and would play every Halo title just for the storylines. Even if they removed multi-player game play altogether, I would still purchase the adventures of Master Chief because he is the ultimate Bad ASS and his tales are amazing. But I can still see the mistake.

While trying to create a more immersive, player friendly, and customizable world to play in, both Bungie and 343 Studios made the cardinal mistake of professional gaming & online multi-player action. They gave birth to two amazing games that were both original and worthwhile while managing to alienate the community that has been their life’s blood for more than a decade.

Sales numbers lie but online lobby numbers do not: There was 175 people online yesterday in HALO 4 Rumble Pit. When HALO 3 was in its prime, I never saw less than a thousand in the lobby.

So I understand the decision of the MLG to move away from HALO and concentrate on COD: Black Ops2. I may not like it but I understand it.

And yet deep inside, that guy inside my Spartan Armor wants to be king of the mountain, win all the gold, and take home the trophies. My spartan mourns the demise of a legend on the competitiveness scene.

So for now, if I want the glory of the arena, I guess I better start learning how to play COD: Black Ops II…

Final Thought:

For years, both the loyal and envious alike have wondered who the “HALO Killer” would be. Could any of us have guessed the greatest threat to Master Chief would be himself?

halo_4_master_chief

Damn, I’m a lazy blogger… OR “I’m not home right now, please leave a message.”

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No excuses.

I have not felt like writing recently.

No that’s not exactly right. I haven’t felt like being social with the world recently and in a lot of ways this is how I socially interact with the world in the winter and spring.

Till the snow disappears, I am terrible company.

Image Source: Simon in the Land of Chalk Drawings Thames Television (1976)

Image Source:
Simon in the Land of Chalk Drawings
Thames Television (1976)

Yes, I participate in the Facebook and Twitter universes but they are almost instantaneous things I can access via my iPhone. They really require no thought.

To put together a post on this blog I actually have to sit down to work, and now-a-days, pulling that laptop out just makes my stomach churn.

It’s mid-April and much like everything else involved with the book, finishing it off has taken three times longer than expected. I have taken the setbacks hard and that has ground my confidence to dust.

Mind you, I haven’t given up. Survival Pod: Issue One is in the hands of one of my key test readers. This is the last step before release, and one of the stories; 5123, is being sent off to compete in the Revolver writing contest: ANTE UP!!! at the end of the month.

Revolver_Full

So despite all the setbacks I am still moving forward. Even slow progress is still progress, right?

On a truly positive note: Originally, I was a bit disappointed by having to cut back the initial
Survival Pod release. But in hindsight, I made the right choice. The line up for Issue Two looks so much better now.

When it is ready for release, I think Issue Two will be far more diverse than Issue One in the eccentric nature of the tales involved. I think the readers should like both but I got some really crazy shit in the works for Issue Two : )

So, that’s the update from my frozen little part of the world. Time to toss another kilo on the fire, turn on some RuPaul’s Drag Race on Netflix, and enjoy my weekend.

Image Source: IGN.com

Image Source:
IGN.com

Hope you enjoy yours : )

It’s March… Or “Did You Expect More?”

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I am so lucky anyone continues to read this blog.

I have been terribly unkind to the blog recently.

Leaving it behind so easily for personal struggles with birthday mortality syndrome (yes, I just made that up) is cruel and unfair. On the other hand, if you have been paying attention the last two years, you know I’m always like this around my birthday.

Image source:Creepshow - 1982

Image source:
Creepshow – 1982

Either way, I apologize for my lack of regular communication this spring.

Also, I’m not talking about the book today. All I will say is she is almost done.

Yes, I’m terribly disappointed by the delays but I now understand what my Dad is always going through with his show cars. When you put enough time, effort, and capital in a project, it has to be right. It will be done when it is done and not a moment before.

No, today I want to chat about a source of joy in my life. The Doctor…

I have officially renamed winter the season of the Doctor.

I’m so thankful to have found this wonderful show at a time when I’m at my lowest. I’m sure not everyone has the same reaction to the Doctor but I honestly can’t remember a time when a single show has evoked such an emotional response from me on a regular basis.

I’m not just talking about the hysterical comedy, intriguing mysteries, and beloved characters. Nor am I talking about the indomitable English spirit and their dedication to the literary masters that came before them (The Christmas episodes tear out my heart everytime.)

No. It is the exquisite use of all these things to create an endless story arc that stretches back fifty years. An arc that no matter what direction it decides to go in, I become hopelessly attached to.

Every companion lost brings on the tears. Each mystery unlocked brings joy. Every spin of the wibbly-wobbly sphere of time stuff does exactly what it is intended to do. It makes me dream of better things in life.

Starry Starry Tardis

The Doctor is not a complete rehash of the same old depressing crap we here in the States get served on a regular basis. It has meaning.

Yes, we run into familiar monsters and scenarios but they are so well authored that it doesn’t matter. In the back of my mind, I can see the plot lines floating like glowing star stuff in the air and I know where ever they lead there will be tears and pain and redemption.The Doctor with his new faces, companions, and endless adventures are such an amazing departure from the normalcy of American television fare

But these things that make the Doctor special are only a component of why I have such an emotional response to this “cheesy” sci-fi show from BritanniaThe scars run deeper than that.

I don’t like endings…

I don't like Endings

Image Source:
Doctor Who
BBCOne

Perhaps it is because I’m so in-tune with my own mortality, that I find such pleasure in the reoccurring acts of personal salvation in the Doctor.

Everyday I watching helplessly from the sidelines as time literally slips by in the faces of my children and the assorted salt & pepper hair in my beard. I know my time on the planet is passing at a far greater rate now than in childhood; that magical place when time seemed to stretch on forever and seemed as unending as the adventure of the Doctor.

I don’t want to go…

None of us get to stick around forever, not even the Doctor (although regeneration would be an awesome talent!) and this winter the Doctor helped me to understand that better. In doing so, this amazing show has given me the drive to continue on and try to enjoy the timey-wimey stuff I got left.

So, thank you BBC and bless you Britain (as well as the rest of the United Kingdom) for the seemingly endless amount of literary and creative talent you export to the rest of the world. I can only hope that someday I will be blessed enough to see your island with my own eyes and perhaps write a story just for you from what I learned while I’m there.

Until then… Happy 50th Birthday Doctor! May the Tardis always remain the brightest of blue, your hair continue to be jaunty, and the adventures never stop!

 

Games of Chance or “Sometimes A Distraction Is A Good Thing.”

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I got a really great piece of advice this week.

Hopelessly mired in editorial hell, a close friend said to me:

When working on a project so long, it can help to do a small side thing to get creative juices flowing again.

This may help from feeling burnt out and/or frustrated. When you turn your creative passion into a career, a balance between creative fun and work is needed.

You can’t just write things for fun without working on getting exposure, but you also can’t revise and revise and be so work focused that the passion is dead.”

Yma Seraph: Feb. 2013

She was right. I need a distraction. Something else to think about besides just the work.

Then low and behold, in my email, the answer just appeared. From the desk of @BarbAbney, I was forward a link to a local writing contest!

I know what you are thinking. Didn’t he already talk about contest? Weren’t they just deemed a waste of valuable work time?

I will admit after the Writers of the Future Contest debacle, ( I mean come on, at least send an email to tell the writer you’re not interested in their entry.) and the string of magazine rejections early in this process, I was frustrated. The slush pile manner of getting my writing out there wasn’t paying off, lent nothing to my long term goals, and then the City Pages incident happened all hell broke loose.

I really wasn’t interested in waiting for someone to tell me whether I was good enough for their publication anymore. It was time for me to strike out into the digital frontier and cut my own path.

Yeah, I’m still not getting paid. But I’m a lot close to making a living now than I was making a hundred bucks a week at that local rag.

So the situation has shifted. My perspective vastly different since the last time I put my work out there for someone to judge.

I’m going to participate in this contest just for the fun of it. The distraction is enough of a prize. (Although I will not be turning away any cash or accolades for participation.)

If you want to play too, the details are as follows:

Revolver_Full

Revolver and thirty two (@ThirtyTwoMag) are proud to announce our short story contest. We’re looking for your best story (only one submission per author) between 1,000 and 5,000 words. Submissions must be sent to Revolver through our submission manager.

The deadline for submissions is April 30, 2013 (midnight, EST). The winning story will be published simultaneously in thirty two and on Revolver and will receive a cash prize of $500. Revolver will also publish the 2nd and 3rd-place stories and award cash prizes of $100 and $50 respectively (thirty two may, at its discretion, choose to publish excerpts of these runners-up).

The prize-winning story will be announced and published in the October issue of thirty two and simultaneously on Revolver.

 Submit your story here!

You got the Sand? Ante Up!

The Nature of Transitory Thoughts Or “How did I get here?”

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Generally, after making a post on this blog I just walk away from it. That’s what this is for, to get the thoughts out of my head and into the world. But I have noticed a recent negativity in my posts and though I should lighten things up a bit.

I‘ve been pretty hard on myself this last month as the editorial process on the books has not gone at all the way I planned. Massive timeline overruns. Delay after delay after delay; the whole process has been frustrating and I am terribly susceptible to negative influences in life.

Hence the doom and gloom of the new year so far.

But then something happens. Something that would ordinarily just fly under the radar. The tiniest of thing occurs and suddenly I’m left quizzically scratching my head going, “How did I end up here?”

Due to the transitory nature of my life (which is a long drawn out story, that I’m sure someday will come out in it’s entirety, but not today) I have lived in a couple of really interesting places in my life and none that has made me more physically uncomfortable than where I live now: Minneapolis, Minnesota.

Image Source: Chris Isett

Image Source: Chris Isett

I have become an old man beneath the weight of her weather and climate shifts. A hermit from the long nights and short days that leave me questioning the days I wasted in my youth by staying up all night and avoiding the glare of the glorious sun.

War is Hell...War against nature that is....

Minnesota is harsh mistress. She takes no guff. It’s either step up, figure it out, or freeze and god do I hate her for it.

On the other hand, she is an intensely loving partner.

In her warm times, when the snow finally recedes and the sun gently touches your face, Minnesota loves like no other. Strange days occur as art entranced magicians suddenly appear like creatures in a mythical forest. Masters of music and prose, paint and stone, film and photography: this town is filled with them. (They still exist in the frigid darkness but you must know their hidden burrows and have the will to reach them. I have neither.)

Some days it feels like you cannot escape the creativity but who is going to complain about that? It’s like saying, “Yea, Mozart lives down the street but I hate that guy. He makes too much noise on his harpsichord…”

It’s not till the sun finally wipes free the icicles from my beard and these pale freckled arms can come out to play, that I remember such things. When I manage to get away from the keyboard for a game night at Tower Games or see a friend perform in some local artistic endeavor, I really do realize how lucky I am to live here.

This is not to say, if given the chance, I wouldn’t bolt for another warmer locale with a delectably hedonistic, art obsessed scene. I am too transitory in nature to not want the adventure of another creatively powerful city under my belt (i.e. Austin, San Diego, or Long Beach look out).

But for right now, where I’m at is pretty good. Yeah, the weather sucks but the company is spectacular….

(For those wondering, the “tiny thing” was getting added to a twitter list of Local creative folks in the Twin Cities. Never been a local artist before…I kinda like it.)

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