http://search.deviantart.com/?q=by:MilleniumRodan&section=today deviantART RSS for by:MilleniumRodan en-us Copyright 2009, deviantART.com Mon, 21 Dec 2009 17:21:15 PST deviantART.com http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss http://s.deviantart.com/minish/widgets/apple-touch-icon-precomposed.png http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/28226639/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/28226639/ Sun, 08 Nov 2009 20:29:05 PST [link] .

The benefits to going over there are so many that I can't even think of all of them. But for starters I will be updating it (probably) more often than I do here. So far I have at least. By like, twice more. I'll still post some stuff here, occasionally, but when something new pops into my head, and there's not enough to say about it to legitimize a whole post here (the longer and best ones will be posted here and there simultaneously), I'll post it there.

Also, pictures. And videos. The nice thing about Blogspot is it allows me to not just link to, but also imbed YouTube videos and pictures (captions included, at no extra charge!) for your veiwing pleasure.

So, if you crave more me, more of the time, just head on down to [link] . If you don't want any more of me, and don't really like the me that's already here, well you can just keep on surfing. And if you kind of like the amount of me that there already is, but don't feel the need to committ to any more of me, well, you'll be just fine popping by here whenever you feel like it. So, there.

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/27763624/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/27763624/ Wed, 14 Oct 2009 14:00:52 PDT
Anyone who knows my current situation understands that I technically have a lot of free time. I have neither a job nor school to worry about, and it turns out that without responsibilities like that, the day is actually quite a bit longer than you might think. Unfortunately, with that free time comes the necesity of using it to look for a job so that you won't have that same free time anymore. Kind of a Catch-22, I know, but it's how the rules of the planet seem to work. Like that eskimo parable wherein the man made a discovery when he tried to bring the bonfire with him while he fished, you can't have your kayak and heat it, too. Or something to that effect. Either way, this is my situation. I have several projects I would like to work on (a comic, a novel, training myself to hone my human echo location abilites to become a non blind Daredevil). All these things require time and effort, and while I always have a ready supply of effort, and currently have a surplus of time, every ounce of publicly taught common sense tells me that spending this free time on something as trivial as projects I want to do is a bad idea, so when I do spend the days working on something like that, I always have this sickening level of dread that by using the time "selfishly", I'm missing out on some grand opportunity to better myself, get a job, get rich, and eventually retire. Because of my taking time off and working on something I'm vaguely interested, I am dooming all of my descendents to a life of perpetual poverty and probably slavery when in the near future this legendary, lower-class-hating figure some people refer to as "the Obama" descends from his throne in the lofty, celestial heavens at the end of every 500 years to inevitably enslave the poorest in society and make them serve the higher and more prosperous. In this mythological future society that they speak of on that wisest and most reliable of news outlets (Fox), I want my kids to be the oppresors who violently exploit the slave class, not the other way around, and it appears the only way I can ensure this will happen is to give up my dreams and aspirations, and trudge my way into the job market, or something similar to it.

Then again, as I have learned over the last week or two spent actively job hunting and taking the occasional odd jobs at barely humane levels of pay (Grandma, that Batman painting I did was worth way more than $20) is that I, like most of America, hate working. There is a reaso they call it "funemplyment", after all, because while you may be dirt poor, eating out of garbag cans, and begging for enough cash to spend on the rent for your cardboard box, you don't have to deal with paper jams, carpal tunnel syndrome, or office politics. And boy, I hate that office politics. My sister has a job, and you know what she gets out of it? Spending money and cankor sores, that's what! I don't have a job, and you know what I get out of it? Nothing! That's right, and like they say, no thing is good thing, am I right? Well, no, but that's besides the point. I may not have my job, but I have my dignity (until the guy at the Pawn Shop can give me a good price for it). And I plan on keeping it that way. I'll take this free time, and I'll do something great with it, like pen a beautiful novel to be remembered for centuries, or illustrate a glorious web comic that brings joy and enlightenment to the internet, or compose a tear jerking symphony that brings man and beast together in peace to the glorious sounds of music. But wait, I can't do any of those things, not without some form of supplies. And to get the supplies I need money, and to get the money, I need a job, and to get a job, I must sacrifice my free time. Oh crap, I'm back to square one.

Hmmm... I need to think about this. While I contemplate how to deal with this issue, I'm going to go ahead and play some video games. Animal Crossing will get these mind grapes going for the next few hours...

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/26384648/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/26384648/ Tue, 04 Aug 2009 16:11:51 PDT
I'm not one for celebrity gossip. What famous people do in their spare time is none of my usiness, and I have no more interest in personal lives than I do in those of any other complete strangers. But when bad decisions get brought to the screen, tainting a little more a media I try so hard to believe in, that is when I have something to say. This right here is one of those situations. It almost seems to me that Ms. Hudgens is vying for the attention against the Disney Channel's other little brat. Everyone is so busy gasping at the latest scandalous photo of she-who-shall-not-be-named-but-rhymes-with-a-state that they seem to be glazing over the fact that the singing senior has bared it all in a "leaked" photo. Honestly, if naked cell phone shots can't maintain a bad girl reputation, what can? Oh hey, there's always the movies. Now I suppose one thing going for it is that Hudgens has come out and upfront told everyone she's not going to be actually naked for the movie. Turns out it's not just your average insane murderous prostitute movie, it's an insane murderous prostitute movie with some class.

But really, how much damage can this movie do? Aside from the hours of commercial and commercial, TV spot after TV spot I'll be forced to endure and the fact that it's aiding in the destruction of the career of a starlet I actually liked (Emily Browning, how could you? We could've gone places; we could've been on Doctor Who!) it's not really going to be a very remembered or respected movie. Neither the director nor the star are particularly popular in any circle of supposedly smart movie goer, so a product they do together will have a brief flash in the pan, then be forgoten as soon as the next Harry Potter movie comes out. Let the teeming masses of meatheads on Myspace ogle the gun toting hookers in their movies, while reserving the artistic accolades for those who really deserve it. Right?

(This is the part of the post where I feel the need to mention something. I wasn't going to actually write this subject at first, not when all I had was the first part. While totally ridiculous and desperate of a project as that movie seems, it didn't seem to justify much of a rant against modern movies. Then I saw a trailer that sparked off a new bevy of tirades.)

Have you heard about Jennifer's Body? Of course you have, you're the internet. Megan Fox is starring in a sleaze fest slasher where she just basically acts sexy and then kills people for 90 minutes. While slashers disgust me, I have nothing personal against Megan Fox. It's tough to make a living in Hollywood with no discernable acting skills, and when she chooses roles that ignore that requirement and instead accentuate her other, ahem, assets, that's not much disrespect to a media as it is good business planning. My problem with this movie lies not with her, but with thw writer: Academy Award winner Diablo Cody. Let's pause a moment to let that phrase sink in. It doesn't really sound right, does it? Something like Grammy Award winning William Hung, or Emmy Award winning Dog the Bounty Hunter, right? But alas, poor skill at a certain craft doesn't necesarilly bar you from being commended for it in the industry's most respected ceremony. So, there you have it, Academy Award winner Diablo Cody writing a High School slasher flick. Go ahead and YouTube the preview. Finished? That's right. There's very nearly girl on girl kissing. Megan Fox says suggestively (in her defense, she really can't say anything any other way) "I go both ways". We're talking a movie that's about a moment away from "Oh, I dropped my pencil; let me bend over and pick it up" at any given scene. Again, written by an Academy Award winner. You know, I'm almost glad this movie is coming out; maybe it will show the Academy what a mistake they made, and make them notice the countless other they have made and are going to make. By giving the Award to the person who used "Thunder Cats are go!" as a legitimate line in her movie (which does not have any Thunder Cats), you have now unleashed (quite literally) a (movie) monster! I speak directly to the Academy now when I say watch that preview again! Look at it! Fester in it! GAZE UPON YOUR SHAME!

So, Academy, has this scared you straight yet? Are you re... ]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/25640567/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/25640567/ Mon, 29 Jun 2009 22:44:30 PDT
Now, those of you who know me personally, (at least for the last 2 years or so) know that I recently grew a mustache, and even more recently got rid of it. Now, most guys seem to have that experimental desire to grow some form of facial hair, but they generally hold it in as long as they can (due in most part to the request of one, if not more, wiser female family members.) However, as they grow older and bolder, and farther away from the benevolent forces of any maternal instincts, the temptation will invariably grow too much for their feeble self restraint and the facial hair will be grown like mad. This generally happens in the independent college years, and by this point all that restraint has built up to insurmountable amounts of curiosity; thus nothing short of a full beard will satisfy them. Now, I've never been one for following the norm, and eschewing the traditional approach, I opted to do a little less a little earlier. Thus, half way through mny Junior year of High School, I began to sport a thin mustache. The results that followed astound me to this day.

1. I don't look good in a mustache. But there is some bizarre filter between my eyes, my brain, and my self respect that for the several months that I had this hairy abomination that I truly believed I looked dashing, debonaire, and even (dare I say it) sexy. All because of an additional set of eyebrows that were lower down on my face.

2. It does make me look older. Whether this older is the "wiser and experienced" kind, or the "creepy uncle" kind, I'll never know. I do know that those two girls behind me in the snack line at the school cafeterium managed to hold their giggles in long enough to ask me if I was a Senior, and hear me say (again, with a mustache distorted sense of self worth) "No ladies, but I am single."

3. Turns out mustaches do have fans among the ladies. Don't take this the wrong way, but it turns out Mexican women seem to like mustaches. I was actually being modestly flirted with by a cashier at Luby's, right in front of my mom. I have never had that before, since, and probably will not ever after. And by that I mean being flirted with in general, regardless of facial hair. After complimenting my mildew, she proceeded to confide that she liked her guys hairy (if I had possessed a full beard, the brain mouth filter would've been distorted enough for me to return with, "Well, my name IS Harry.")

4. Turns out they actually have two fans. The other's name is Evan. A kid who's family has recently joined out congregation first met me while the mustache was in full swing, and immediately loved it. I easily became his favorite person there, and although he couldn't remember my name, he remembered my mustache. Having shaved it off, I'm not sure he's forgiven me since.

5. Mustaches cloud your memory. In the short time that I had the little catipillar, I completely forgot what I looked like, and felt like, without a mustache. As if it had a mind of its own, and was hellbent on its survival, it not only rooted itself into my brain to convince me keeping him was a good idea, but it also removed all my memories of having been lacking of him at any previous point. I could've been born with the mustache for all knew while my mind was still under the influence of that parasite. Upon shaving it, however, I was ambushed by a rush of memories of what I was before, as well as the strange sensation of seeing my recent, mustache distorted self as a clear thinking, mustache-less bystander. I could see myself with the artificially inflated ego, making cocky self sure remarks, and could do nothing but stand on the sidelines screaming madly, "No, you fool! Can't you see what it's doing to you?!"

Alas, it remained far longer than it should have. So, in conclusion, let me go ahead and tell you as a final lesson (something of a combination of History, Ethics, and maybe some Algebra); do NOT grow a mustache. There are a very, VERY limited number of people in the world who do in fact look good with a mustache, and their low percentage in the world means the likelihood you are one of them is extraordinarily against you. So, just remember this, and let my mistake be a light shining on your pathway.

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/25109305/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/25109305/ Wed, 03 Jun 2009 15:01:24 PDT
The article starts with a certain miss Jodi Picoult, author of such wonderously optimistic books like My Sister's Keeper, which you may recognize the title from the upcoming movie. Despite the fact that it's about the legal battles of a little girl who realizes she was conceieved solely with the purpose of donating potentially matching blood for her sickly older sister, the film is notable for being not depressing and critical-y enough for the original star, Dakota Fanning. The author, likewise tends to write books mostly about modern ethical controversies, bringing us now 17 tales sure to bore and sadden you for the rest of the day. And as much as this seems to be the rhetoric needed to make modern literary critics salivate at the mere mention of her name, there does appear to be a problem: she's apparently very popular, and get this, with real people. So, unfortunately for that degenerate sub species of Homo Sapien that review (read: criticize) books for a living, the fact that she's popular with actual human beings automatically removes her from any kind of critically likable table. Leading us finally to what the article was really about: the heirarchy of good books vs. bad books according to the eyes of critics. Due to her accessibility, Ms. Picoult is apparently deemed barely one step above the likes of Stephenie Meyers and her precious Twilight. On top of that, Twilight is ranked so low not just because of the accessible and popular nature of her novels (if they can even be called such), but because Twilight is considered to be excapist literature, and therefore should not under any circumstance be even contemplated by the likes of higher minded literary readers.

Are you starting to see what I took umbridge to? Let's take a look at the analysis. This literary theory states that the difference between the good, proper, literarily important books is that they are inaccessible and unrelateable to the average reader (and thus strictly unentertaining), whereas books that are considered bad, vulgar, and low brow are the ones people might actually enjoy while reading. All of this takes no consideration into the actual skills (or lack thereof) of the author in question, but simply judges the books on how they treat the audience. Therefore, whole genres, like escapist fiction, that are written with the purpose of entertaining are entirely written off, while other genres, like depressing ethical controversies, depends on how intense the "screw you, readers" attitude of the book is.

Now, by this point in my life, I am fully aware of the irritatingly snobbish selection of what is considered good in literary circles, so I am not offended at their criteria for considering something good. What sickens me instead is that they throw "everything else" into a lumpsome, considering it all one and the same as some primordial literary soup. In effect, they compared books like my absolute favorite A Princess of Mars to the bane of my existence that is Twilight, on the basis that both are considered entertaining, and therefore are both equally primitive. They judged an entire genre to be as bad as the worst of it, ignoring the individual faults and merits of the authors themselves. To give you a cinematic equivalent, they said that something like The Hudsucker Proxy is on the same level as White Chicks, given that both are considered "comedies".

Let's take a look at the quality of the books in question. Just as examples, let's use Edgar Rice Burrough's A Princess of Mars vs. Stephenie Meyer's Twilight. Princess was the original space opera, creating sci-fi staples still being used today, writing in a style that even modern critics begrudgingly praise as surprisingly good for a pulp novel, and demonstrating the most ingenious imagination the world of fiction has ever known. Wherease Twilight on the other hand kickstarts a series of books that explore all facets of the theory that countless 6 year old have no doubt postulated: could a vampire drink animal blood and therefore be an okay guy? It follows that premise with a series of plotless, teenage diary entries that run on for 500 pages. Seeing as how the average reader can get through all 500 pages in about 2 to 3 days, I'm going to assume that it's written in size 72 font, and probably triple spaced for extra length. But despite the obvious differences in quality, both books are considered basically one and the same because they are popular with human beings.

This leads me to a conclusion that has been a long time coming. I know this may sound a bit inclusive and generalizing, but I swear it's true: Professional critics are the worst thing ever. Sure, the idea of a rev... ]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/24410294/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/24410294/ Fri, 24 Apr 2009 12:41:03 PDT
(Open on a police lineup, Jack Day being led in, presumably following a somewhat dislikable police chief begrudgingly saying, "Get me Jack Day.")

Day: So what's the deal?

Attractive Female Officer: It's a murder, sir. A moderately rich man was found dead in his minimansion. Shot dead.

Day: Any leads?

Officer Attractive: His wife. She was having an affair, she holds his life insurance policy, and she was found with the murder weapon.

Day: Let her go, she's innocent. It's never that obvious. Anyone else?

Officer Attractive (leading Day through the suspect lineup): His mistress, his brother, his stockbroker, and his veterinarian.

Day: It wasn't his mistress, she's the snarky hooker with a heart of gold; it wasn't his stockbroker because he's gay and secretly in love with the victim (and it's never the token minority); it wasn't the vet because he's a red herring. No, it was his impoverished brother who is secretly in love with his wife and is the one having an affair with her.

Brother: It's true!

Gay Stockbroker (Dressed like Elton John, but he doesn't have a lisp. That would be tacky.): How did you know?

Day: Because it's as plain as Day.

(Suddenly the wife comes in, still holding the murder weapon.)

Wife (to the Brother): You killed my husband?!

Brother: I did it for us!

Wife: I could never be with you! Sure I was ahving an affair with you, and my husband was chronically unfaithful, but I still loved him! (Points gun at brother.)

Grumpy Police Chief: Quick, someone talk her out of it!

Day: It's fune. She can't actually do it.

Wife (drops gun and hangs her head.): You're right, I can't.

(Cue a bittersweet montage of people looking with a barely off mainstream moody alternative song.)

How's that, huh? What? You say it's too preposterous? Well, I got you covered. Let's take a look at Day's pseudo-realistic (read: depressing) home life. His first wife was murdered, but never solved; his second wife divorced him and has his daughter; and his current, third wife is secretly planning to kill him. Let's read a scene at home:

(Day is at home and is relaxing, as symbolized by his unbuttoned white dress shirt over a wife beater with his untied tie draped over his shoulders and neck. He is playing Clue with his cute, blonde, too-young-for-him wife.)

Day: Colonel Mustard with the Revolver in the Library.

Wife: How did you know that?

Day: There's only two of us playing. Clue is a minimum three player game.

Wife: You didn't even look at your cards.

Day: It was as plain as Day.

Wife (to herself): Sometimes, I swear, I could just kill him... (Cue "Dun Dun Dun")

So how's that? Too original yoy might say. This may be true. But it could be worse, he could be a piemaker who wakes the dead, or something else dreadfully creative. So count your lucky stars that its plain. Plain as Day.

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/23985934/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/23985934/ Tue, 31 Mar 2009 13:24:03 PDT
You want to know what got me so angry about Cartoon Network? Just take a look at what they're "updating" their channel with. On top of a number of their current crap cartoons returning, they decided that the name "Cartoon Network" didn't speak enough to what they wanted to do. So, they're adding in several live action shows, presumably on the logic that cartoons just aren't ridiculous enough and that they have to turn to poorly premised reality shows to achieve their intended level of insanity. That's right, on top of new programs not even fitting the very easy to acheive name of the channel, they're also going to be the bane of modern television. One such show is called "Bobb'e Says", and consists of "Says is a fast-paced, viral video clip show where other people's painful mistakes become tools for Bobb'e as he dispenses sage wisdom to an unsuspecting public." Those days where you get so bored that you just click on what's currently being watched on YouTube? Now you get to watch it on tv, with an annoying child actor host and commercials. Thanks Cartoon Network!

Unfortunately, it's not like their last several attempts at new cartoons were any less brain melting than Reality TV and its ilk; just look at a little something called Total Drama Island (which, of course is returning). Here was an animated collection of all the cliches that made Survivor a bad idea, all produced under the guise of satire. Unfortunately, the creators forgot to look up Satire in the Dictionary, where it says "A literary technique of writing or art which principally ridicules its subject often as an intended means of provoking or preventing change. Humour is often used to aid this." Granted, this was taken from Wiktionary, so I suppose their is a slight chance that this is a fake entry, and that the actual definition fits something more like Total Drama Island, which I presume would go something like, "A literary technique of writing or art which principally ridicules its subject BY COPYING IT EXACTLY, often as an intended means of GETTING MONEY FROM THE POOR SAPS WHO WILL WATCH ANYTHING ON TELEVISION. Humour is often NOT used to aid this." As has been explained to me, any and every Wikisource is totally unreliable, so chances are all my previous thoughts on the subject of satire are false and the Seth MacFarlane definition is in fact correct. If that it the case, I solemnly apoligize to the creators of Total Drama Island for the mix up.

But what about the shows that don't go into the highly debatable regions of satire, and are just supposed to make you laugh? Take a look at one of their attempts at humor called My Gym Partner's A Monkey: [link] . This is straight from Cartoon Network's Youtube account, and there is a part 2 if anyone is interesting. I did in fact watch that whole first clip and barely restrained myself from smashing my head into the desk, so let me advise you to watch at the peril of your own sanity. There is no amount of joking, cleverly written similies, or even simple puns that I can add that would explain to you how bad this show is. And it lasted 4 seasons. The fact that it won an emmy should be proof enough that this being the best Cartoon Network has to offer, the worst can only be imagined in a headache inducing nightmare. Just for funsies, and for the sake of reaffirming your sanity, lets just compare (or at least watch) something of what cartoons used to be. Here's Dexter's Lab: [link] . While you're at it, here's some Bugs Bunny: [link] . We've really come along way, haven't we? Yeah, I know that there is a little thing called personal taste, but whatever tastes people have that differ so, so much, just take a look at all three of those cartoons, and see which ones make you laugh and which ones make you rush for the Advil.

After all this look into what the current affair of Cartoon Network and basically all other current cartoons are, I frankly feel very small and helpless against a host of animated monstrosities that keep coming and coming. All we can really do is sit back, turn off the cab... ]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/22888456/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/22888456/ Thu, 29 Jan 2009 15:43:52 PST
Well, the subject under fire by this week's amazingly well constructed title (seriously, phonetically spelled foreign accents and puns, what more could you want?) is vampires. More specifically Twilight, but we will touch lightly on other related examples. I myself have gone from concerned to horrified by the rabid popularity of these crimes against fiction. WHile most people of the "masculine persuasion" are, I go a bit further: I believe these books to be a destruction of vampires. Now, due to the particularly unholy nature engendered by these creatures, I generally shy away from most post-Bela Lugosi vampires. But just because I tend to seek entertainment away from demonic mythical beasts, does not mean that I don't understand or appreciate the metaphorical symbolism apparent in the creation; it is something that lives forever by stealing the blood (both the life and/or innocence) of others. Again due to the aforementioned unholy nature, their inherent evil is emphasized. This overall makes them a supernatural counterpart to figures that kill or corrupt to live and prosper, such as Nazi soldiers who "only followed orders", or the rich upeperclass elite who feed off the poor. All the little rules (garlic, mirrors, sunlight, ect...) are just for fun. Now, I've been against the loss of the fun little details for quite sometime, though often they were only ignored to further the proposed invincibility of a certain super powerful vampire character. Rarely did they hamper the true evil nature of these supernatural metaphors.

Then, along comes Stephenie Meyer, and her fancy pants, super powered, teen romance, sparkly "vegetarian" vampires. The apperently neverbeforethoughtofinalltheuniverse idea that these "good" vampires only drink animal blood (thus only being a threat to PETA) singlehandedly undid centuries of literary theory, reducing a brilliantly metaphorical archetype into a version of the X-Men to be enjoyed by emo girls the world over. AND they still lost the charming little rules in a puff of modernism and sparkles. If she had gone the Anne Rice route and kept her murderous little lovers bad, but protagonists, I might not have cared. If she's had them do the "right thing" and only feed on lowerclass Irishmen, I'd still probably be fine. But to just have them drink animal blood while Dracula stands over there going, "Gee, why didn't I think of that?" is nothing more than yet another Harry-Potterification of something that people used to know was bad. It makes about as much sense as a "good" Nazi soldier who only discriminates against Jewish animals. Let me clarify: if it has powers of darkness and evil, or is a part of an evil empire, or is in any way affiliated with evil, it's a bad thing. Therefore, there are no good Nazis, storm troopers, boy witches, Martha Stewarts, or vampires.

Meanwhile, Stephenie Meyer, unable to be satiated by simply destroying the essence of vampires has moved on to my favorite alien menace, Body Snatchers. The threat of invading conformity and emotionlessness has been turned into the charming story of the little alien that could. Thanks Stephenie! Hey, how about you write a book about why we should all give the nearest Daleks a great big hug and call it a day? I guarantee you'd make millions.

Well, so that's it, that's my opinion. Unsolicited, I know, but if you must take something out of this, remember this: I made a really good pun. And, as if to further cement the fact that I am prematurely turning into an old man, next week's article will be "Cartoons: the Crap These Kids Watch on TV These Days.

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/22552497/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/22552497/ Mon, 12 Jan 2009 21:08:53 PST
Who here is familiar with iTune’s new feature “the Genius”? On the latest mandatory update of iTunes, as well as on their newest wave of iTech, there is a little creation called “the Genius”. It allows you to pick any single song from your library and the computer will arrange a playlist of songs that the computer sees as a good combination (except if your computer really doesn’t like the first song you picked, in which case it will give you an error message and suggest you listen to more Techno.) At first I believed it to be nothing more than a harmless simulation of a scenario where Steve Jobs has the ability to reach through your computer screen and rearrange your carefully created playlists. Then I realized that theory was foolish; he already has that ability (he simply chooses not to exercise it… Yet). The truth of the matter is far more sinister.

I realized after my initial few rounds of general messing around with it that the choices picked by the computer were uncannily familiar in terms of their reoccurrences with each other. This couldn’t be explained as simply the songs on my library that were the most popular among listeners of another song. Then I noticed the mysterious progress bars that began when I would first open iTunes, bars that simply said they were analyzing my library for the betterment of “the Genius”. And finally, when “the Genius” composed a playlist of songs to match “Walk Like An Egyptian” that included “867-5309/Jenny” and “Everybody was Kung Fu Fighting” as well as many other songs on the playlist I created under the name “Songs That Must Be On Everyone’s iPod”, then the ugly truth unraveled: “the Genius” is me. Now before you jump to any conclusions about the size of my ego, know this; in my family, one of the only things I’m good at (or at least appreciated for) is creating playlists. I myself form most of the playlists, much to the delight of my mother. The lists of “the Genius” are simply reordered collections I have already collected, and the same I’m sure applies to your “Genius” matching your collections. “The Genius” is assimilating your taste, your personality. As you read this, it is creating a musically knowledgeable Pod Person (if you will) that will soon replace you even to your own family. For me it may already be too late. A vaguely Austrian Apple-powered android could be hurtling through the barriers of time even as we speak with the sole intention of jamming the business end of a Nano into my neck once my musical prowess has been copied and saved. I very well may stand here (or actually, type here in my underpants) giving my last warning that the creature known as iTunes has achieved its musical self awareness, and will very soon be locking you out of the airlock as it looks on with its single big red eye, laughing. Please, for your sakes, for the sake of your children, for the sake of what will soon be only my memory, don’t let yourself become a popularly referenced sci-fi stereotype! Fight back, I say, fight before “the Genius” destroys us all!

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/22101467/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/22101467/ Sun, 21 Dec 2008 11:36:42 PST
This leads me to my main message. As anyone who is vaguely associated with me would know, I now worship at the alter of Pushing Daisies. Without retelling the entire premise, let me just say it is a television show of the greatest kind, and one that appeals to me in everyway I know how, and even a few I didn't. It has the greatest sets, costumes, dialogue, main characters, guest characters and story arcs you can imagine. It was an old fashioned murder mystery (none of this ultra modern CSI crap.) On top of everything, it contains the only known example of the "Anti-Dead Girlfriend" that I have seen (serious points there). And of course, it has been cancelled.

To be fair to ABC, it was pulling in the lowest ratings of the time slot. But then again, to be fair to Pushing Daisies, the ad campaign for the show was shamefully small. On the one week where they actually played *gasp* ONE commercial for the show, its ratings hit a season peak. On another occasion, they didn't air any episodes for two weeks and when they suddenly popped it back on air with no announcement, they chastised it for having its season low in ratings.

And now after crippled the show with a campaign of the sheerest jackassery, they are cancelling it, branding it a failure, and replacing it with long running has-been show Scrubs (which they also happen to be advertising like crazy). So the basic deal boils down to this: the television show that was created by Gods and crafted to be everything that I personally would enjoy has been cancelled and replaced by the television show that started off "somewhat good" at best, jumped the shark at season 3 (JD-Elliot big mistake #20,354), has staggered ever worse since then, has been on its "last" season for approximately EVER, and has already been finally (and justifiably) cancelled. Is it just me, or is that enough to justify buying a sniper rifle and showing them MY Nielson ratings; I'd make sure certain "doctors" at Sacred Heart Hospital wish they did more than play one on tv; I'd show the ABC executives what it means to get cancelled. Okay, whew, death-laden euphamisms aside, I am very angry. If it was, you know, maybe a GOOD show that was replacing Pushing Daisies, maybe I wouldn't be so mad. But it's a "Doctor" show. On the worst and most overused settings for a show, "Doctor" falls worse and more overused than "Law Firm" (one of which has already claimed poor Olive), but not quite as bad as "Sexual Escapades of Middle-or-Higher Aged Women" (which are no doubt attempting to swallow Lily and Vivien Charles as we speak).

Well, whatever may occur now, one thing is certain: Scrubs, which I already had a tenuous grasp of tolerance over its prolonged continuation, has now become the bane of my existence. I can always be the bigger man, and wish them the best of luck where the glorious Pushing Daisies failed (then laugh inwardly when they fail abysmically); but most likely I'll take the bitter and petty route, which could include anything from mailing Zach Braff a box full of, I dunno, flaming dog poop or somethig, or it could very well include the afore mentioned assault rifle. It's kinda up to them now.

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/21665677/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/21665677/ Tue, 25 Nov 2008 14:49:55 PST
No, I am not talking about that little American thing. That was for the precedent or something, and it has already been decided (the winner was Fred Armison.) I am talking about Doctor Who. Apperently, David Tennant has announced he will quit the show and return to his theatre roots. This leaves a vacancy in the role of the Doctor. Whoever it is will have to be very good, seeing as how they're attempting to fill the shoes of what has been the most popular Doctor so far. So how do you do that? I say by open election. There appears to be a large number of other actor's up for the role right now. Who are they, and how am I different?

First off there's David Morrisey, better known for his recurring role as "British Man #2". He's got a number of things going for him; his hair, his britishness, his name is David. But more importantly, he appears in the upcoming Christmas Special where he claims to be the Doctor. Assuming he is simultaneously honest and sane, and going by the fact that we've never seen him as the Doctor in the past, he stands a chance of being the Doctor, next, or in the distant future.

Next, there's Chiwetel Ejiofor, better known as the Psycho Killer on Joss Whedon's Serenity. He appears to be running on the "If The Yanks Can Have A Black President, We Brits Can Have A Black Doctor" platform, and while that gives him somewhat of an edge as far as controversy and publicity can go, it also reduces him somewhat to a novelty act, and novelty alone wont get you into the TARDIS. I'm also hoping the sheer ridiculousness of the 2-hour, crotch-punching, 3-Stooges-eye-poking fight scene at the back end of Serenity will turn him off of the more sensible voter.

Finally, we have a newer candidate in the race, that of Robert Pattinson, better known as "Edward, The Surprisingly Effeminate Prince of Darkness". It turns out, he is British, and that is what a lot of voters are looking for. And seeing as how at least over here in America he has somehow gained control over the minds of that all powerful demographic, "women ages 12-80". If his mind control and invisible forces of Thought Police reach overseas to Britain, I can basically kiss the Doctorship goodbye. I'm relying on the voters who envision him as the Hayden-Christenson-Anakin of Doctor Who.

But what about me? Well, I am a good looking young man who likes pina coladas and long walks on the beach. I am currently running on the "If A British Man Can Be Batman, An American Can Be The Doctor" platform, but I am open to other platforms should I be seen as a strong candidate. I am weird. I have good hair. I am American, but I listen almost exclusively to British musical artists. I have proven on occasions that I can comfortably do strange things on a stage in front of people, such as hold a conversation witha prerecorded video of myself. I too would like to visit Barcelona. I've been practicing my As-Seen-On-TV "Surprised" look. If elected, I promise free Sonic Screwdrivers to all citizens, and ABSOLUTELY NO Slaveens. I would also like to announce my running mate for Doctor's Companion as Emily Browning. Yes, Violet Baudelaire and That Guy Who Dressed As Classic Aquaman For The Senior Class Picture.

So come November(?) dont vote for a stranger, a Joss Whedon character, or a vampire. Vote for the the face you can trust (trust me, you can). Vote for the face you can admire (well, maybe). Trust... me!

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/21318175/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/21318175/ Tue, 04 Nov 2008 13:14:58 PST
Now, anymore when people think of comedy they oft think of the same mind numbing substances which affront their television screens on a daily basis. As audiences, we must contend with television shows and cartoons which believe the key to comedy is simply to throw as many bright colored foul mouthed characters at the screen as is possible in 22 minutes. The words parody or satire bring up Scary Movie at best and Epic Movie at worst. Somewhere in between, of course, is Shrek and its countless sequels, which started out fine but have slowly degraded into what I previously mentioned, albeit with a PG rating. But despite the low brow filth we must trudge through, there still remain a few, exceedingly few sweet smelling truffles that shine through the muck of today's modern televised wasteland.

Much of the literary field of comedy is in similar disrepute. From columnists to comedy book writers, most forms of attempted funny writing take their cue from the crassness of their cinematic neighbors. In the comedy section at a bookstore, most books there and it must be screened from innocent children by their parents; one can hardly a reach a chapter ending without having endured the most heinous of profanity and/or the most disgustingly rendered descriptions of modern sexual perversion. Now, do not mistake me for some sort of a Quaker minded parishioner, hell bent on leading a new witch hunt. I bring up the moral decay of comedy because such sad instances as examples of how edginess and lack of conscience have it sadly and mistakenly become interchangeable with wit. The existence of the crassness involved oft adds no new humorous element, but instead only brings the reader's mind into the gutter with the writer. Still, likewise with visualized forms of comedy, there still exist some who remain a funny in a world of mundane and humorless filth.

Before we begin to list such modern examples, let us take a trip back through time to an age when comedy meant something else. Many people have heard of a book which is heralded as one of the greatest fictional novels ever written: Don Quixote. But many of you may not realize that it was and is still intended as a comedy. The misadventures of our ill-fortuned knight are meant to simultaneously enthrall and rapture the audience with laughter. Read through the entire thing and you will see the inherent comedy found in many circumstances, and if you read very closely you will even find a fart joke. And yet over the ages of 500 years this book remains debated as the greatest piece of literature composed by man. Whether you agree or not, Don Quixote remains as stalwart proof that comedy can make you think and laugh at the same time.

And what of such modern examples? Take for instance the tragically unpopular Stranger Than Fiction. Panned (for different reasons) by critics and audience members alike who went in expecting Anchorman 2, it was nonetheless a well written humanizing story. Sadly, the bias of critics who wrote it off as (despite not getting) just another Will Ferrell comedy and the bias of moviegoers who wanted (and did not receive) just another Will Ferrell comedy slew the movie at the almighty box office and in critical circuits. The result of this movie is too often an exaggerated version of the responses to most thinking comedies.

And now this is not to say that the unthinking, purely entertaining comedy is without merits. From Three Amigos to Conan O’Brien, many forms of comedy carry no real deeply philosophical musings or allegorical meanings behind their façade of laughter; they simply make you roll on the floor with ecstatic hilarity. But the point is that they do so skillfully, and with well planned, well timed, methodical writing to do so. While many of the things designed to make you laugh attempt to do so with the age old method of throwing as many things at the target at once in hopes that some might stick.

Lastly, let me speak of the aforementioned power of comedy. After all, it can do much more than simply make you laugh; when expertly handled, it can change the way you think. Take for instance Conan O’Brien. This late night entertainer armed with a cavalcade of instruments at his disposal proved that he has more power of the masses then one might think when he basically single handedly changed the course of the presidential election in a European country. For those who have not heard of this, current Finnish president Tarja Halonen was failing in the polls in the 2006 Presidential elections; failing, that is, until a long running series of gags on Conan O’Brien’s show where he posited that she looked like him. Due to his uncanny popularity in the co... ]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/20952997/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/20952997/ Sun, 12 Oct 2008 12:19:12 PDT
I think we've all noticed it by now, but it seems we cannot venture near a silver screen without being forced to endure another sullen hero hold his dying beloved in his arms one last time before a final showdown of vengeance. Mostly girlfriends, sometimes wives, and occasionally whole families find themselves casualties in the quest for the critics' praise.

There's many to look at for an example, Jason Bourne comes to mind; Batman's Rachel Dawes was the love interest for two characters so her death counts twice; Cloverfield had three couples, all of whom perish, resulting in three dead girlfriends in total; and for sheer numbers, X2 and X3 killed the dual love interst of Jean Grey not just once but twice, counting a whopping four Dead Girlfriends out of the same character. Looking ahead still to the future, there is the case of Daniel Craig, who is reprising his role as a mopey, vengeful Bond, who is reportedly going three-for-two on deceased Bond girls (Vesper Lynde and the the prety Indian lady in Casino Royale, and the upcoming Quantum of Solace has Agent Fields, who meets a bizzarly sticky demise, though it still leaves on Bond Girl as of yet unaccounted for. They must be planning something big.) Likewise is Tyler Perry's House of Max Payne, which I believe is about a rotund black man who comes home one day to find his dysfunctional suburban family slaughtered by Norse drug dealers, and subsequesntly goes on a killing spree with the help of the girl from That 70's Show. Not even YouTube is safe; Joss Whedon, whom in the past with Serenity has shown that he's not afraid to use the less common Dead Boyfriend, returned to a more traditional method in his internet produced Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, which is hilarious to watch as Doogie Howser in a mad scientist costume sings about being a rejected supervillain until in a genuinely "What-the-Hell-just-happened?" moment when his overtly goofy Death Ray explodes, killing (you guessed it) his girlfriend. Having just been watching it as a musical superhero parody, this invariably is confusing in terms of what emotion it is supposed to illicit, as ending it this tragically makes about as much sense as the heavy handed alternate ending to Three Amigos where El Guapo kills Carmen the senoritaright in front of Steve Martin.

Do you see my predicament? Now dont get me wrong, I'm all for a good tragedy, or even melancholy tale that ends one lover short. Hamlet, A Tale of Two cities, Rosencrants and Guildenstern Are Dead, and King Kong are among my absolute favorites. But there reaches a point when the shock ending of a good tragedy is marred by the wonton over indulgence of the media in the same literary device. Must we endure through the same weepy eyed heroes bemoaning their late beloveds while fighting disagreeably hatable villains over and over (and over*) again? And what of such villains? It's been a while since I have seen a particularly enjoyable villain cross the stage, and this trend I believe is partly to blame; after all, Captain Hook would be infinitely less fun should he have killed Wendy. We must stand up and fight against the wrong kind of tragedy, if we wish for actual change in the media. To arms, brothers, to arms!

P.S. if you would like to visit the foundation of someone with effectively the same idea, albiet presented with a more socially justified slant, feel free to visit Gail Simone's "Women in Refridgerators" website. She is a wonderful comic writer if ever there was one, and with this website she is proving herself to be quite a stand up guy (or gal, I suppose, whatever I'm allowed to say.) Kudos, Gail, kudos; may you never give up the fine fight.

*and over, and over, and over.

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/20077707/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/20077707/ Thu, 21 Aug 2008 12:26:55 PDT
Imagine my surprise, to find out that the family I've spent the last 18 years with is no longer my own; that I am no longer part of it, or one of them. For years I've been correcting the people (friends, teachers, social security agents) that my name was spelled -key, when all along I've been the one who was dead wrong. And here's the scariest of the results: all this time, I've been proud of my -key spelling because it denoted that I am of Irish decent. We all looked down upon those poor miserable Scottish fools who spelled their last names with a -ky, and low and behold! I am one of those poor, miserable Scottish fools. I used to be proud of my vast drinking abilities and my wild celebrations on St. Patrick's day. Well I still am, but now things are different. I have to dye my hair red and start eating Lucky Charms for breakfast. And how can I face those people at the breakfast table, whom I thought were my own flesh and blood, but now turn out to be of a different brood entirely. My own sister is Irish, but I am Scottish; the lone Scotsman in my otherwise Irish family. I'm horrified. I thought we were a family, and it turns out they've been persecuting my people for hundreds of years now! How could they, my own flesh and blood, or so I thought.

I... I need to think this over for a while. And why the Hell isn't there a Scottish emoticon?! Oh holy saints preserve us...

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/19391856/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/19391856/ Mon, 14 Jul 2008 13:57:01 PDT
To give a little background, I must inform you that we are a three perso family, each member being of the age to drive, but sharing one car (and one license) between all of us. Insurance price reasons and ect are why we only have one license, but having one car in total also helps keep us in a very limited position (much like a road trip). So when a relative moves to Washington and has a car to get rid of, that's as good an excuse as any to get one for ourselves. The only problem? They live in Arkansas right now.

The trip starts when we compromised the distance and me and my mom took a plane up to Tulsa. Now, this is the first time I've flown in 8 years, and obviously the first time I've flown since the airlines became such a haven for terrorism. Now, I understand a need for security, but the overall process has become increasingly overwrought in recent years. Luckily, we had a security guard who was just as sleepy as I was, and easily let me go by as a minor ("You with the moustache and the class of '05 t-shirt: you're under 18, right?" "Uhh, yeah...") I actually had a bigger problem as I tried to find the right music to sing sloud to; turns out almost all my iPod's songs have lyrics involving exploding, crashing, or waving my guns. After a number of close calls, I just decided not to sing along after all. In the end, my fears of being the next Cat Stevens turned out unfounded.

After a free orange juice and temporary "something on the wing" moment later, we were landed and on our way back home in our new car. Now what's the problem? It turns out every single person we could possibly talk to had a different idea about how to get back Texas. Not to mention that those Okies have no road signs. If not for the dotted yellow lines you couldn't even tell you were on a highway. 2 hours into what was supposed to be a 4 hour road trip, we realize we've been going the wrong way all along. Eventually we land at a Denny's (that's the nice thing about a road trip gone wrong, whatever direction you mistakenly take, all roads eventually lead to Denny's.) Following another three sets of entirely different directions, we finally bought a map and were again on our way. Three bathroom break-less hours later, we had reached the height of boredome. You know that feeling when so many things have gone wrong in your day and you're so tired and depressed that you reach a state of giggle friendly incoherence? In our house we call it Crap-Happy, and it's the state we spend about 65% of our time, including that exact moment on the road trip when we finally crossed the mighty Red River. There had been a number of other false alarms along the way, and we were hesitant to break out the festivities as we crossed the bridge. We rounded a grove of highwayside trees, our eyes desperately searching for some sort of a sign to congratulate our close escape from the Hell known as Oklahoma, when to our surprise and horror, we found something like it. There, in all it's unholy glory was a tall W shaped building (probably originally a Whataburger, but converted) with large letters along the roof that read Adult Video Store. The nearby sign that proudly proclaimed "Welcome to TeXXXas" confirmed our horror, and we could do nought but scream and giggle incoherently until we finally saw the official Welcome to Texas road sign, moved of course a couple blocks past Sodom and Gomorrah. Now, I know technically the, ahem, establishment was on our side of the river, but I firmly believe that the great state of Texas rewrote it's borders into a peninsula around that abomination. Well, the rest of the road trip was a bit happier. I just have to say it, but here in Texas the skies are bluer, the grass is greener, the highways are cleaner, and the roads are easier. So it all felt a little happier after that. Still, I have those lingering doubts that I really have escaped that place. Oklahoma is kinda like the Hotel California: you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave...

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/18839256/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/18839256/ Sat, 14 Jun 2008 14:04:08 PDT
And yes, things are definitely changing, and in a large number of ways. I am now out of school, and there appears to be a void in my life of some sort of overly vindictive and petty authoritative figure (neither of my parents count, because my mom is awesome and my dad only has this power on Wednesdays.) Sooner or alter I’m going to feel the need for a rebellious mind game, but with no disliked authority in sight it just might end up focused as a power struggle against various technological tyrants of the household (“So, refrigerator, you think you’re so much better than us?”, which is a fight I would obviously lose, very quickly.)

Normally, by this point in summer, I would be addicted to the ambrosia of the Tetris gods; but as I said, things are changing. I’m a graduate now, and as such, I must live up to my responsibilities. It appears I must take on the personality of a graduate still living with his mother. First, apparently, is the overindulgence in underage drinking, which I am soon to start it seems. This is followed by many parties when my mom is out called “keggers” (which you can tell I’m really new to, as my spellcheck doesn’t recognize it. I must add it to the dictionary, then.) These are to be coupled with very questionable association, and invariably lead to arguments where I get kicked out of the house, but cannot make it on my own and end up living in the garage (which will be hard, because we live in an apartment.) Finally, it all ends when my mother and I buy a small hotel in the middle of nowhere I take an unhealthy interest in taxidermy (this also will be hard, as I am easily unnerved in the presence of blood; but there are rules to these things, and who am I to question the decisions of the universe). Frankly, I’m already starting to miss Tetris.

We are also giving me a party. (Well, two parties. I suppose one good thing about being the child of a divorce is when this kinda thing comes up. This also ensures that the two will compete to be better than the other, so at best, I’ll end up with two GREAT parties.) Party one (my mom’s and the one I’m preferring already, really) doesn’t have much of a theme, and isn’t all that organized as far as things go, like the food, the setting, and the guest list. Honestly, what we’ve organized the most is the Haiku and Limerick reading, but it turns out not everyone knows what that means. In our defense, we’re really new at organizing parties. The only party I’ve organized was when I was seven; a pirate party at first, but two of my friends had particularly “guarding” parents who decided that pirates were too immoral and would be busy that day if the theme remained. So we ditched it. They weren’t busy after all.

I’m sleeping worse, now. Partly because I discovered that Newsradio comes on at 1 A.M., and have been unable to not watch it each night. By the time it’s over, I’m so wound up laughing that I can’t really sleep for the rest of the night. This allows me the magical ability to sleep perfectly sound from 5 A.M. to 1 in the afternoon. This is quite a bit different from all the time I was in school.

There’s more, much more that’s changing, but, I suppose, some things that still aren’t. I’m still funny (I think). I still draw pictures, and even moreso write stories. I still watch black and white Alfred Hitchcock movies with my mom while my sister groans in anger. I can definitely say, my sister being incredibly grumpy, hostile, needy, and overall exactly-what-the-media-says-about-teenage-girls-y has not and will not change in the foreseeable future.

And as if to prove that much less is changing than might be expected (or at least that I’m pretending it isn’t), next week or so, I will finally post a long delayed segment of Fun With The Internet. (Maybe.)

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/18528667/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/18528667/ Tue, 27 May 2008 14:30:00 PDT
Intro aside, I must continue. The biggest concern I have right now is of my romantic relationship status. Its an age old story; boy likes girl, but girl likes another boy. Here's where a good old friend of mine named Shakespeare comes into play. One of the most interesting things in Hamlet that we went over was the existence of parallel characters. Hamlet, as we know is in the unfortunate position of needing to avenge his murdered father; before him, though, Fortinbras is likewise disposed, and by the end of the play, so is Laertes. There are two friends of mine who are in parallel situations to me and my love triangle. I will refer to them as Kevin and Bill, and if you get that reference, then you're as big a nerd as I am. Now, Laertes is Hamlet's closest parallel. He is similar in situation, character, and geography to Hamlet, and my own friend Bill is the Laertes of my story. He is very much like me, especially in character, personality, and tastes. The major differences, and those that probably are going to leave the longest lasting effects throughout the tale, is that he is a lot less inhibited than I. He's the kind who will move to immediate action, while I stay behind and wait for a more opportune moment. For the past three years, he's been pursuing an unobtainable girl, who is lost in a lovestruck relationship of her own. Fortinbras, on the other hand, and in this case Kevin, is in the exact same situation as Hamlet, (in this case, he is pining for a girl who is with someone else, having arrived just too late onto the scene right after she was taken), but in character and even geography couldn't be farther. Now, Kevin isn't necessarily that different from me, but his own situation exists pretty far aloof from myself, and doesn't cross paths with mine as much as Bill's does.

Here comes the clincher. I really only know Bill through school, and his characters story ends as far as my narrative is concernced in two weeks. If this was a story, then his character needs some sort of a conclusion within these last couple of school days, and in a grand case of life imitating art, his story does appear to be coming to a close. He is now in a burgeoning romance, not with said unobtainable lady, but in place with a girl from his own group of friends, someone he's known all along, or at least has gotten to know recently but fits in with his whole troupe. If this isn't the fates coming to my rescue as if to let me know "I still stand a chance with something", I dont know what is. My tale will not end any time soon, and barring some strange and unforseen circumstance, neither will Kevin as far as I'm concerned. If we're to follow a similar ending as Bill, both of us could meet someone soon who will eventually take the place of the unobtainable. Who knows how Kevin and I's paths will intertwine in the future to come, or how they'll combine or end. And who knows, even you might look into your life and be able to draw inferences of just what will happen to you in the future.

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/18273660/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/18273660/ Sun, 11 May 2008 13:01:45 PDT
Now on to today's topic. I have noticed a trend of increasingly popular "artists" who are becoming sadly influencial on the populace of my generation. Notice, for instance, that when you look up the word Noir here on Deviant Art, about half of the finds refernce Frank Miller. It seems that people my age are under the far mistaken belief that Mr. Prostitutes-and-Uzzis is the best example of film noir. Or what happens if you ask people about the song Personal Jesus? It turns out that a disturbingly large number are more familiar with Marylin Manson's version than Johnny Cash or Depeche Modes. Even when you hum the distinct riff for Under Pressure, a collaberation between Queen and David Bowie, two of the greatest rockers in history, a number of people still tend to believe it was Vanilla Ice who coined the tune. These, and other very irritating celebrities have led to a complete degredation as far as the arts go, perverting literature, music, and cinema for far too long. That is why right here and now, I am going to compose a "fantasy hit list" of people whose crimes against humanity's arts have accorded the penalty of corporal punishment. In no particular order, here goes:

[B]Frank Miller[/B]: his tales of hookers and gut splattering, square jawed heroes have enthralled perverted comic readers for some time now, and have recently encroached upon the cinema. His seeming inability to write a single female character who is not a prostitute (Catwoman, Black Canary, any Sin City girl, and even the Queen of Sparta) has destroyed the reputation of MANY great fictional characters, and even some real ones to boot. His "heroes" are generally psychotic screeching killers who focus on revenge instead of vengeance, and murder instead of justice. He also has the bad habit of expanding upon other people's hard work, such as the aforementioned Catwoman and Black Canary, Batman, Superman, and even the greats such as Edgar Rice Burroughs. As said before as well, the problem is that now people are begining to think that his "work" is a good example of film noir: far from it. Film Noir and hardboiled detectives are best exemplified by Humphrey Bogart, and writers such as Dashiel Hammet.

[B]Quentin Tarrentino[/B]: We all know of his "masterpiece" Pulp Fiction. I am very saddened by the fact that people now cannot think of the words Pulp Fiction (even when used to describe escapist flights of fantasy written for a predominantly teen boy crowd) without thinking of the bizarre combonations of disgusting and ideotic as presented in his movie. He has simultaneously tainted the good name of Surf guitar music by featuring Miserlou so predominantly, and has also infected retro movies by his work on Grindhouse AKA: the sex and violence power hour.

[B]Robert Rodriguez[/B]: For his work both on Grindhouse and Sin City. Many of the complaints of the above two apply, plus the fact that he occasionally moonlights as a kids film director, taking time off from his blood, gore, and porn to slap together something for the kids. For anyone questioning whats wrong with that, just imagine if Ranger Rick featured an editorial by Hugh Hefner.

[B]Marylin Manson[/B]: this guy is a bit of a favorite for me as far hit lists go. Inspiring a whole generation of goth conformists with his shock mongering, controversy-whore antics; he just tries so da... ]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/17764423/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/17764423/ Wed, 09 Apr 2008 13:41:32 PDT
To cement my own ridiculousness, I have entered myself into my high school's prestigious Mr. High School* Pageant (*some names have been changed). Yes, that's right, I and 13 other worthier students are vying for the title that represents our entire school. Now, I happen to be one in a line of students who simultaneously hate the school and have been up for it. Legend tells that last year's Mr. High School also had a similar lack of enthusiasm for academic apportions, and still he managed to end up crowned with representative role for the whole student body. Therefore it might give you the deception that I have a chance. In actuality, I am fairly positive that I have no chance whatsoever, mostly judging that its me.

Now here's a little history with this decision. I was originally thinking this was just a popularity race that culminated in a ballot cast that I obviously had no chance of winning. My goal was therefore was simply to turn the entire thing into a political election race (which went especially well with the 2008 setting). My plans were set, and included everything from badges to Me '08 slogans to smear campains (The other guy still wets the bed!). In the wildest of my fantasies (concerning this project at least), my ultimate goal was to somehow turn it into watergate. Now, I have a particularly chronic habit of not paying the slightest attention to the details of school announcements, if even the main message itself. Turns out they said more than just "sign up now", they actually said that it was a pageant and that there was needed a talent and a dance. And apparantly, once you sign up, there's no getting out of it. But I hadn't heard that by after school last wednesday, when walking down the hall my friend and fellow goof-off/failure-at-life asked me if I was going to sign up. I said why yes of course. So was he, and down we went to the sign up sheet, and that was that. There was a second sheet to fill out and return that had all our details, like what our talent would be and what dance we would do. By that point, I was starting to realize what it all really was, and was having the associated second thoughts. I held off on returning the sheet with the intention of simply dropping out. Imagine my surprise the next morning when my name appeared along the speaker system in the daily announcements. As it was greeted with such enthusiasm by my classmatesm, getting out of it was no longer an option. Now all I had to do was come up with a talent.

Fortunately, this is where my good friend DSHammoulton (who goes to my school) came in. Over a conversation, with a number of suggestions from both of us hat weren't just right, he eventually suggested writing a skit, though the biggest problem was that it was a one person talent. Oh wait, did I say problem? I meant the greatest thing ever! It has been decided that my skit will be a conversaion between me and a prerecorded version of myself. Yes, that's right. My talent is effectively me talking to myself. So what happens when you combine a lonely little gimmick, a duet, and plenty of self deprecating humor? You get my upcoming feat, where I will (hopefully) entertain the student body by discussing with myself on stage just how few talents I actually have. This is something that thus far has earned a well deserved "Tad-Daa!"

On a side note, you may notice I haven't updated much in the way of pictures. That is because I have been working on my game, a demo of which is here in my gallery. I hope to have more pictures soon, and I did just update with a picture based on a They Might Be Giants song, in order to appease the 2 people who semi-regularly look at this empty little page (and a special thanks goes out to Distant Lullabies, who recently bumped that up to its current number.)

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/17074890/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/17074890/ Tue, 26 Feb 2008 14:27:28 PST
"Teens are more likely to drop casual expletives, or "fillers" than the generation before them. Timothy Jay, author of Why We Curse and Cursing in America, estimates that the average teen uses roughly 80 to 90 swear words a day."

Now, I for one am appalled. But of course, it's not necesarily in the way you might think. You see, swearing used to mean something; it used to be a special way to express yourself. Back in the good old days, to swear was to briefly express a fit of passion about a subject, and the words you used, as well as how often, made other people see you in different ways. If someone went around swearing all the time, they were typically the average 1950's big bully who beat up on little guys and rode around in a convertable until some joker on a skateboard steered them into a pile of maneur. Someone who never swore was either the goody two shoes or the honorable religious man who was above such things. But those in between, who swore occasionally, but not profusely, were the handsome, debonaire, dashing yet rogueish guys who all the girls wanted. But even so, it was just the right kind of swearing. It wasn't anything outlandish or vile; in fact the basis upon which a swear word was chosen was its placement in the sentence. It had to not just get the point of passion across, but also had to sound good doing so. Today's swear words dont sound good, they just sound vile, and when used so often they sound lazy, as if the speaker really doesn't have that big a vocabulary and must revert to certain words that they remember best. Like a kid who can only describe objects as "things", only replacing "things" with "shoot" or "fudge" (well, you get what I mean.)

Think of historic moments in swearing. The song Sultans of Swing, where Mark Knopfler sings, "They dont give a damn, about any trumpet playing band." Rhett Butler's brilliant line of "Frankly my dear, I dont give a damn!" Rat in Wind In The Willows saying, "Toad, you ass." Mark Twain's various swears and remarks on swearing which would be too numerous to count. Benjamin Franklin's parable of the Man and his Jackass used to explain the inherent flaws of the requirement to own property to vote. Even God's Biblical prophet reffered to what the people were selling for sacrifices as "mere refuse", essentually saying they were selling crap.

Compare to modern man's accounts of swearing. Rap songs like "Shake That ____" and "Back That ___ Up". The replacement of Give a Damn with Give a Sh__. Steve Martin's string of the F-word 19 times in a minute in Planes, Trains, and Automobiles; historic but undignified. South Park's goal at breaking the record for number of times the F-word could be used in a single 30 minute episode. The steady progression from "Gee" to "Stinks" to "Sucks" to "Blows". Even Tina Fey's remark this very last weekend reffering to "B__ch as the new Black". Well, okay, that last one had alliteration and is kinda funny, BUT it still does not have the same dignified manner of swearing that Clark Gable and talking animals retained. If you can dress a rat in a suit and still seem classy when it swears in a kid's book, then modern swearing can be pulled off correctly.

It seems that today the most popular words are F___, Sh__, and B__ch, the three which I consider the most offensive and least attractive audially. Sh__ and B__ch sound garish and jaring, they contain very sharp and biting sounds in them and offend the ears as much as the mind. F___ is simply overused, and beyond the nasty definition it actually has, is more or less an adjective for when you're too lazy to come up with a real one. The worst of all offenses is when the two of the three are combined, such as "That F___ing Sh__," or "That F___ing B__ch," or "That F___ing B__ch talk Sh__." Such words and strings of words are foul sounding and undignified, adding no personal passion in the statement and only striving to be as sharp, jarring and offensive as possible, the verbal equivolent of a Beastie Boys song. I for one am sick and tired, and outraged at going around to school and public places and having my ears assailed with such travesties of the English language. Where are the good swear words, like "Damn", "Jackass", and "B_____d", words that preserve a sense of personal interest, innovation in language, and maintain an affront to the subject's honor, not their ears. I call for reform in the way we as a generation curse, I call for integrity in swearing!

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/16690701/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/16690701/ Sat, 02 Feb 2008 12:55:59 PST
This morning I stumbled across one such overwhelmingly beautiful epoch. I passed by a house that was privy to the TP-ing of a lifetime. I really want to go back and take photos or something, so that I can remind myself years later that I was blessed enough to see that good of a job in my life. They hit everything: three trees (it's winter, so they were bare of leaves), the bushes, a wooden bench, some on the roof, and even around and in the mailbox. The house and yard were fairly small, so they hit the neighbor's garden's and trees as well, subtly enough that the focus was still on the one house. And best of all was a shining emblem of the reason behind it all: posted in the middle of the yard, and accentuated with ribbons of two ply, was a poster board sign on a wooden stake that proudly said "I ♥ U!"

It's nice to see someone of my generation with a little pride in tradition, and a knowledge of the past. You see, this is a lesser known fact anymore, but historically speaking, the meaning and inherent symbolism of TP-ing someone's house was as a grand and chivalrous act of love. Only a love true enough, pure enough, brave enough could summon the courage in the heart of the male to declare his passion to the world by TP-ing the house of the object of his affections. Over time, this aspect of the task has slowly disappeared, and now what once was an important step in the order of courtly love, has now been accumulated into the collective arts of the base and soulless vandal. Now a day, the passionate art of TP-ing is performed almost exclusively by vagabonds and villains, whose sole intent is to quench their lust for adrenaline. Usually, too, these kinds of performances are mere trifles; poor, unfinished jobs that are more of an embarrassment to the vandal in question than an annoyance to the owner of the unfortunate residence. There doesn't seem to be any more TP-ing's worth even slowing down to gawk at. Gone are the days when true love held its sway; when a man could target his beloved with an array of flying rolls, either to prove the steadfastness of his love to the disapproving guardians of the girl, or indeed to melt her icy heart and prove his loyalty to her. I look around in shame at the disheartened yards with but a single roll or two, ashamed at its own inadequacy to attract better artisans of the craft. I sigh wistfully to myself, and sometimes piteously ask aloud, "What has become of France?"

But here, holding it's head high, this yard could display both the crystal clear majesty, the utter completeness of this monument, AND it's even clearer message of passion. I only hope that I myself will have the courage, skill, and heroism to one day pay the due honor to my beloved with such a gift. I hope and pray, every night that I too can leave this kind of romantic impression upon her.

This is the most romantic thing I think I've ever seen.

There is hope for the future yet.

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/16495039/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/16495039/ Sun, 20 Jan 2008 18:40:18 PST
Am I the last person on Earth who is sick of instant gratification? It feels like there's no one else my age who agrees, and there seems to be a conspicuous lack of grumpy old guys complaining about the newfangled technology, I'm going to go ahead and take that role up myself. I was fine with MP3s, and with DVD's, and with Windows 95. But I blame iPods, and HD, and of course that ever blameworthy internet. It all seemed like a good idea at first; what with technology getting faster, it meant the average joe gets what he wants sooner. If you wanted a comic book, for instance, you used to have to wait until you went to the library and rent it, and if it was good enough, you'd either steal it or buy one from the book store. Now with the click of a button, you can downoad it to your desktop. Except, you need a special reader for it, and its now chock full of advertisements, and of course if you got it free, its probably only highlights and not complete. But its the fastest and easiest way to do it, and so you'll sacrifice quality for time and ease. And pretty soon, so will the people who make these things. Why spend a lot of time making something great when you're selling it for dirt cheap prices. You can just make three of them, a fifth as good, and people will still buy. And of course, because modern entertainment happens so fast, your bosses are there to make damn sure that your extra leisure time will fill up with more work, so now no one has time to do things the old way.

Because the quality of stuff modern day is so crappy, many people are either just going with older things, or turning indie. Indie is fine, true indie. But because its become so popular lately (because mainstream sucks), the money hungry mainstream creator's are trying their hardest to imitate Indie, and are doing it at face value only. The thing is people forget that Indie isn't really a genre, its a origin. Indie is actually when whatever the focus on is produced either by the creator, or by some very out there source. It means that the creator has more control over their work, and that they're not being pushed by some supervising source to make their work more marketable. And because of the honesty and artistic integrity that mainstream is so lacking, "indie" has become popular, and awkward is in. And because of that we now have dozens of awkward, quirky, weird characters who are basically carbon copies of each other, and again, these have been smacked all over the entertainment fields, and you need a snow shovel to get through the thick layers of them.

Has anyone actually seen Blu-Ray? I was going through Best Buy, looking at all the tech stuff that I can never afford, and I saw a clip of Pirates (Kraken attack) done in Blu-Ray. Okay, I'll admit it was very good special effects, but here's the problem therein: you dont necessarily want sci-fi monsters to look real. you go to a play, and there's a very different look to it than a movie. Movies on the screen have a different feel, as if there's a slight haze over it, there to remind you it's only a movie. Blu-Ray looked like I was watching a play, like the screen was an open window onto the scene. But because it was a creature that very obviously couldn't happen, it seemed much more fake. It was the Uncanny Valley syndrome, and it felt extraordinarily weird, above all, distracting. But its progress that will make money, and therefore sonner or later, Blu-Ray will devour all of television, like DVD swallowed VHS.

And here's a thing I like to call the "iPod Syndrome". Notice how whenever someone is listening to music, they cant just play a whole album anymore, they have to play one song, then cycle through their pods and find a different song. Sometimes it gets to the point that they only listen to their favorite part of a song, or even just the first thirty seconds or so and skip to the next. It's very similar to those incredibly annoying people who end up with the remote and will watch about a minute of a show before moving on to the next (one of my dad's most annoying pet peeves.) Alternatively, they also have the patience/obsession enough to play the same song about fifty times in a row, and sometimes that even stretches into tv shows and movies,all watched over and over AND OVER (one of my sister's most annoying pet peeves, and the reason why I cant enjoy Treasure Planet, A Knight's Tale, or Hogan's Heroes anymore.) Ths used to be a social fopar that out of consideration for others you just didn't do, or else you were a complete ass. But now that people have the tech to do it all by themselves, they lose their caring to not do it, and will go ahead and do it in mixed company as well as by themselves.

Is it just because I'm too stubborn and too conservative that these things annoy me so? Am I completely closed off to something new?... ]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/16317140/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/16317140/ Tue, 08 Jan 2008 14:52:30 PST
Back in school, over with the worst Christmas vacation I could ever have nightmares about. Not feeling very good, and I'm about to undergo a home remedy for congestion. I have to inhale, through my nose, salt water and then just let it dribble out. Actually, I've done this before, and it works. It's just not so pleasant while you're doing it. Also, on the same subject, I found out from a spanish friend that the spanish words for Conistipation and Congestion actually are defined by their intensity, not by where the blockage in the body is. Totally useless fact, but if a Mexican buddy asks if your nose is constipated dont be alarmed.

I guess its time I report on the HORRIFIC DEATH of the GREAT COMIC BOOK ARTISTS EXPERIMENT! that I tried a while back. Seven comics, drawn by seven different artists. Even at the begining, I only could find six artists, and had to use myself as one. That was May, last year. At this point in time, I am now going to go through each of the seven and explain just what happened.

Number 1: Never could actually contact the artist again, and in the end asked if my sister could do it instead. She said yes, and has since drawn about half of one panel.
Number 2: Forgot completely, but says she's doing it now.
Number 3: Realized his job was too much and doesn't have the time. I did it, in a style similar to the covers of The Sandman.
Number 4: Lost the email containing the instructions. I sent her a new copy about a month ago, to which she said, "Oh, nevermind I found it."
Nur 5: Actually, she has come very close to finishing (at least, she has been since September) and will send it to me soon.
Number 6: This was me, and I haven't done it yet.
Number 7: She actually finished it. But then she forgot to gave it to me and moved to Washington. I think it may be safe to say it's gone for good. She also happened to be the only one I actually gave the outline to in person, and so now I have to rewrite it to do it myself or have someone else do it.

Oh well, you live and learn. And I learned that whatever project I have in mind is destined to fail miserably. Dont look for any kind of a happy message today, like I said earlier, I feel just too apathetic right now. For now, just read the above with as much sardonic humor as you can muster up, and go look at someone else's gallery for some cheery stuff.

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/15919308/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/15919308/ Thu, 13 Dec 2007 15:12:27 PST
I CANT HEAR YOU!

Well, if you must know, it's time for another installment of Fun With The Internet. And just in time for a special issue about INTERNET STALKERS!!! Yes, we've all heard horror stories told to us by concerned parents and teachers. Little Bobby in high school, captain of the football team, never talks back to his parents, eats his vegetables, and always brushes his teeth. He just got home from an exciting day of school with his popular cheerleader girlfriend Susie, and he has decided to talk about it on this newfangled computer invention he keeps hearing about called a "Blogue". Over the course of the next few weeks, he "posts" there everyday to tell his internet friends about what happened to him that day. You see, this blog is like a girl's diary, or a boy's journal, only that when he posts it all his friends can read it too. But unfortunately, if his friends can read it, so can STALKERS! And one day, some overly clever creep figured out from just a few lines of Bobby's blog where he lived, and what school he went to, and young Bobby was never heard from again. Yes, these things happen. And it got me thinking about my own Blog Safety. So I decided to look through details in my own past blogs and see if you can find me. Ready? Then let's go.

Looking through the first blogs, there's not really anything useful in "Still Learning the Ropes", or in "Ha Ha Ha!!!". But in "Home Sick", we see the information that I go to school, and am reading the book Catcher In the Rye. That narrows it down to High Schoolers world wide. The mention of multiple books with depresing endings only confirms this. Fact 1: I am a High Schooler.

Next, In "The Great Comic Book Artists Experiment!", I mention Chicken Fried Steak and two weeks left of school. Trivial little fact? Not to the well prepared internet fiend, who would know that California doesn't have a summer break, but only three month long breaks throughout the year. Fact 2: I'm not in California.

In "Cabin Fever, Ahh" I mention that I am a 17 year old, and that my next year is Senior. Fact 3: I am a 7 year old Senior.

But enough about me, where am I? Well, I'm having internet problems with Verizon. You could check for me in the registration of Verizon customers, but since this particular stalker (hopefully) doesn't have the backing of Bush and his wire tapping renogades, we need to look at a map and see where Verizon doesn't have good connection. Let's see, the red colored spaces are good internet connection, so the places without it are: Alaska, and a big chunk bridging between Arkansas and Washington state. Uh-oh, we're closing in on me. Fact 4: I'm somewhere between Arkansas and Washington.

In "Adventures in Housesitting" we come to a problem in location, though. I mention watching spanish comedies, but also mention I need a map of the London Underground. Either way, my location HAS to be in Europe now. Verizon may not get good connection their, and crappy high schools still exist in Europe, so it's starting to fall into place. My next blog "Accidents Happen" is about me accidentally in a Harry Potter party on opening night of the last book. J.K. Rowling is british, so it still fits. Fact 5: I'm in Europe.

No good facts up until "Embrace the Randominocitude", where I mention Homecoming King. What does it mean? Well, most European countries, and especially England, have ridden themselves of Homecoming Aristocracy and after numerous bloody revolutions, most have embraced the new system of Homecoming Democracy. Students, therefore, instead of running for a single Homecoming King and Queen monarchy opt for a group of roles of equal authority, in a fair and democratic Homecoming Parliament. The countries that still have Homecoming Monarchies, are small and lesser known, one of the last ones being Portugual. Fact 6: I'm in Portugual.

Next, in "Tryptophan", I mention Chick-Fil-A. Now, it's a little known fact that Chick-Fil-A was started by Mormons. The Mormons were a race of Arabian decent, who lived in peace in much of Europe for many centuries until the Catholic Church decided to get rid of them. After much persecution by the Spanish Inquisition who nobody expects, they fled either to the New World. In Portugual, a small number of Mormons remained in small villages. That must be where I am, if I went to a Chic-Fil-A for breakfast.

This leads us finally to Fact 7: I'm in the small, remote Mormon villages of Portugual. And just type that in at Gogle Earth and hit search... DEAR GOD! I've been found. Wow, I never knew it was so easy. Well, guys, you've seen how easy it is to find someone just by their blog. If you dont hear from me again, I may just have become another little Bobby.

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/15679602/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/15679602/ Mon, 26 Nov 2007 13:29:06 PST
Well, now that that is out of the way, let's get down to business. Various news elements to be taken care of. First off, I'm back from vacation in the third world state, alternatively known as Arkansas. I have family there, great people, we're just not sure why they moved to Arkansas. Last time we asked they each thought it was someone else's idea. After initially getting unpacked and having my vast choice of music be "critiqued" for all being too sad (I'll grant you, most of my music is various shades of unpleasant emotions, but not necessarily all "sad". I do however have a small but persistent collection of happy music that went unnoticed), I realized that though I only had homework in one class, it was enough to keep me working just about every moment onward. I ended uo with some help from my uncle, and everything not only got done, but was excellent work.

I tried seeing Beowulf, knowing full well that my English class would be in an uproar and I would hear every surprise come Monday morning, seeing as how we read it. I didn't see it, and as I expected, I now know everything that happened. Tell you the truth, I already heard one of the major plot twists and found out that the "nudity" it's rated PG-13 for isn't Angelina, but instead is Beowulf. That actually was the biggest complaint with the majority of the class...

I got Electric Light Orchestra's Out of the Blue album from my uncle, and it's fun. Jungle is now my new favorite song, and I have it playing now on repeat. So if you hear the familiar "Chooka chooka hoo la ley", just start dancing and dont ask questions. I also went to the Best Buy (the biggest store in the whole state of Arkansas other than the Super Wal-Mart) and managed to play a demo of Guitar Hero III. Much too my disappointment, depite a huge arsenal of great classic rock and modern alternative songs, the demo was comprised of the five least classic and least fun songs in the game. the very best they had was Pearl Jam, and that just isnt right. However, what is right is that I collectively beat the entire state of Arkansas on playing Pearl Jam and Pat Benetar, so there.

My buddy who's working on the 1984 Diamond Dogs saw my logo for Oceania, and he likes it, so if, and a major IF, the play happens, my logo will probably appear. That's wonderful news, and either way, I'll be happy so long as I see a rock opera performed by my school's excellent theatre department. I would've preferred Time by ELectric Light Orchestra, but David Bowie was definately a close second, with Kilroy Was Here as third. I'm happy there's just someone else with the same awesome idea.

And last but not least, after a whole week including both weekends of absolute deprivity of all things connecting me to the outside world, I've come back to find absolutely nothing new. Seriously, nothing new has happened. I'm a little bored, but not the least bit surprised. Good news is, my Yearbook Press Pass scored me a free breakfast at Chic-Fil-A this morning.

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/15493955/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/15493955/ Tue, 13 Nov 2007 13:57:10 PST
And the rest of the League? Well, in the end I was the only one. Our Superman was on a Golf trip and wasn't in the picture, civilian clothes or not; Wonder Woman and Supergirl's mother's (respectively) wouldn't let them "go out dressed like THAT"; Batman stood with me until Friday morning when we realized all we had of the cotume was the mask, and no cape, chest plate, or anything else; Spiderman, Thor, Punisher and a couple others along the way took heed of the Princepals idle threats and/or forgot ("It was Friday morning? I thought you said... uh... Mi-day morning.") Either way, if you look closely, there I am, orange clad and posing like an action figure, next to civilian Batman who was baring his shoulder and giving "GQ eyes", civilian Wonder Woman, and one particularly terrible rendition of Waldo ("red and striped shirt... check, hat...check but let's not where it, scarf and glasses... what?") There is also a Groucho Marx somewhere in the picture, so someone else got in the mood. In the end, a friend of mine told me that what I had done is possibly the greatest thing anyone has ever done at our school (although if he manages to get his Diamond Dogs 1984 musical to pass, I will have to disagree) and he summed up exactly what awesomeness I had done: I had planned it, made posters, and had them taken down by princepals and put back up by unruly teachers (yes, it happened), got on the announcements saying not to, and did so anyway. He now has one of my posters hanging on his "wall" (yes, the infamous "wall) and that fact gives credibility to all my work (I respect him on these things, mostly because he's planning a Diamond Dogs 1984 school play rock opera.) Yes, I can wear my scars with pride. And I can fear tomorrow (more visitation rights from daddy dearest.) Uh-oh.

In more recent news, I pre-ordered The Killers Sawdust (compilation) album, and it was released today. Listening now, and am LOVING it (I said without the slightest hint... ]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/15129410/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/15129410/ Fri, 19 Oct 2007 13:25:43 PDT
As if it wasn't already evident that modern scientists have nothing better to do with their time than sit around and come up with drunk party games, they bring us this wonderful piece of Science In Action. This theorum is so useless that it actually can be analyzed on a number of levels. Oh yeah, its useless because it doesn't relate to anything, it cant really be proves, and even going with this mythos they've created with it, the chances are so slim that it wouldn't happen in the time that the Big Bang managed to spit out this room full of drunk monkeys to when the universe ends in the Big Crunch. This is one of the few science things I've seen that in proving itself as truth, also proves its utter uselessness. Seriously, I dont think its fair to call them the Dark Ages if this is we were missing out on.

Apperently some college students in England decided to try this (and managed to get a grant of $2000). They put computers in a cage with monkeys at a zoo, and you know what happened? After initially beating the computer with a rock, peeing on it, and then pooping on it, they realized that hitting keys did stuff, and eagerly began typing. The result was five pages of nothing, mostly consisting of the letter "s".

So, in the resulting failure of London's top philosophical students, I have decided to do it myself. I may not have a monkey, but I have a Shnauzer, which is good enough in this case. I am going to sit him down here at the keyboard and see what he comes up with. Ready? Let's Go:

kldsfklgfnmkldsnkalfndeanm'
]d;\awsoq-=O0-RI9E4JKLWMFC;E, Q
4L3R93JRLK4EMRFKWESHJ[jmedls, alpui9cjm,es fcejwi9qmrl4,4ro39jdl;mewU oNCE IN iunupon a time, nkopjkdsjiowajifjkelpw'ajdckjodkdowa'kmfdmksamfl;jmajaKDKSMDLSJDLKSLAPKMmfkdmfvoldkoslmlv fpdj[s'jmv kfed97r392jmq/;5mr 4/;ers]gvf,f dhfidisoanfdbsioafjdinja9uhnk3n lmnde0sujn4,32..d.vc,dji9wsu5oi43n3wnbauhde9w0ajOPnce upon a midnight dreary as i pondered weak and weary Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
" 'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door;
Only this, and nothing more."Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore,.
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore,
Nameless here forevermore.And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
" 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.
This it is, and nothing more."Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you." Here I opened wide the door;---
Darkness there, and nothing more.Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,
Lenore?, This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,
"Lenore!" Merely this, and nothing more.Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before,
"Surely," said I, "surely, that is something at my window lattice.
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore.
" 'Tis the wind, and nothing more."Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven, of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But with mien of... ]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/15000614/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/15000614/ Wed, 10 Oct 2007 13:27:28 PDT
Another Wednesday afternoon and waiting around doing nothing. Working on a big, (ie.: BIG) project going on involving Canterbury Tales and A Knight’s Tale the movie and something to do with a professor named Reed. I dunno, I should’ve been paying more attention. I was thinking though about my school’s theatre department. You see, each year they do one play and one musical. And I was thinking of a great, brilliant idea for the musical: they should do a rock opera. Think about it. Styx’ Kilroy Was Here, Green Day’s American Idiot, David Bowie’s Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars. I’d even go for Pink Floyd, even if I don’t like them that much. My vote goes for Time by Electric Light Orchestra. Granted, I can see how some of these albums present the problem of being too short. They’ve done Wizard of Oz as the musical, and that’s what, two hours. An album is 45 minutes to one hour. But there’s long ones. There’s two disk operas. Just pick a concept album out there and you’ll make me happy. Unfortunately the role of the theatre department isn’t just to keep me happy. Would be cool if it was.

In other news, not much is happening. I wrote a screenplay about robots for class. The assignment was to write a screenplay about anything, and I challenged myself with the idea that if I could write an episode for the Twilight Zone, and then it came to me. Its pretty cool. I came very close to writing a monologue at the beginning and end for Rod Serling. I got back to class and everybody else’s pieces were about “relationships” and other girlie, channel 33 stuff. With my awesome screenplay about robots, I felt as out of place as Uno cards in a game of Yu-Gi-Oh! (“I play my Three Headed Super Emo Dragon and have a face down card for a trap.” “Umm… Wild Card draw 4?” True story.) Also, Transformers comes out Tuesday and that is pretty cool. I mean, seriously. It’s a movie about giant robots from space that turn into cars, and most importantly, they’re here to fight each other with cool special effects and impressive dialogue. I’d never seen Transformers before the movie, because before I was young and naïve, and I didn’t know how cool giant robots fighting were. Granted, it’s a concept that only could have been scientifically plausible in the 80’s, just like flying around the earth really fast being an effective method time travel. But still, now when I hear the words, “You failed me again Starscream” I am compelled to giggle uncontrollably and sing the sing the theme song.

Transformers…
More than meets the eye…

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/14814347/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/14814347/ Thu, 27 Sep 2007 14:02:18 PDT
"Well, first thing on my ___(noun) of ___(noun), ___(name). Anybody here ___(anything)? Anybody here like ___(same thing)? Well I have ___(same thing), but have yet to actually ___(verb) the supposed ___(noun) they ___(verb) so often. The ___(noun) goes out within about 30 ___(plural noun) of every time I ___(verb), and that's reliant on the big if of whether or not I could even ___(verb). If its really being ___(adjective), I have to turn off every other ___(noun), unplug any ___(noun), and say a few prayers to the ___(noun). The bottom line is: three ___(plural noun) must be ___(adjective) on the ___(noun). If there are only two, or, ___(name) forbid, one, than the ___(noun) is___(adjective) and the charade of ___(noun) must start over. At the moment, even as I write this, it's down to ___(noun), and one of them is ___(verb-ing) precariously. ___(noun), ha! Their ___(noun) is less ___(adjective) than ordering a live ___(noun) through eBay. So, I say we ___(verb) 'em.

Having fun yet? That was harder than I expected, and it very well may suck. In case you were wondering; yes, that is my "Let's Go Nuke Verizon!" blog from way back when, but let's face it, none of you were wondering cause none of you lazy bums have read it. Well, I say go back and read it, and you sure as Hellfire better laugh at it. With it. No, wait, at it. Either one works for me.

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/14688976/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/14688976/ Tue, 18 Sep 2007 14:50:48 PDT
Okay, first things first, I was nominated for Homecoming King. Pretty interesting. I'm the only dude in Yearbook, so I was the only choice. However, I gained a small but detirmined cult following. There's two ballots, and I was on the first, but didn't make it to the second. I kinda realized how it worked afterwards; you see, the school doesn't really want a novelty vote (like me) to win. So they arrange it by having each organization select a representative. This means, for starters, that its people who do things after school anyways, and that at least assures that the student in question holds a certain amount of pep. Except for me, because my yearbook is scheduled in as a class, and I have absolutely no pep or liking for the school itself. But the way the whole system of voting in is arranged is to spread the novelty votes thin over a bunch of weirdos (like me), so that the "normal" people's votes (which generally go for one particular, popular person) count more for that one person, even though the overall novelty vote is vastly bigger than the amount the winner gets. The good news is one novelty vote made it through to the second ballot, and now that we're uniting the novelty vote, we very well may overwhelm the popular vote and get a novelty vote into office. Here's hoping.

Second, There's some definitve problems in The Great Comic Book Artists Experiment! that are getting to be annoying. One artist dropped out for sure, and another artist I'm having problems getting ahold of. I may have one replacement in store, but it doesn't look for sure at all. Dissappointing at best, but the project will move forward, because I'm not giving up.

Third, I finally have managed to illegally download the Crush40 songs that aren't in Sonic games. Seven songs, all of which are extremely awesome and can only be listened to with awesome protection gear, were used for a Nascar Arcade game, and are less about running and more about driving, but still carry the same feel of blazing speed that Crush40 is all about. Jun Senoue is like the Dick Dale for land. So, anyways, I'm listening to that and practically wetting myself in the glory of its unadulterated awesomeness.

Fourth, with the assistance of my uncle, we hosted our first Bad Film Friday. We picked out three films at the local Blockbuster to watch, and see how far we got into them that Friday with the family. First movie was Stan Lee's Lightspeed. he back of the box was what convinced us, as it just got better and better the more you read it. Wanna hear? here goes. "The covert world of 'Ghost Squad' agent Daniel Leight comes crashing down when he is critically injured in a building collapse triggered by the genetically mutated terrorist called Python. But when Leight's radiation treatments are sabatoged, he discoveres he had the ability to move at hyper speeds only by risking potentially fatal metabolic damage. What happens when an inexperienced superhero buys his suit from a stoner store clerk? Why is his former scientist friend turned snake skinned psycho plitting the horrific Operation FireSky? And will the fastest man on the planet allow millions to die - including himself - to save the woman he loves?" Sounds great, right? We got about 30 minutes into it, and frankly I'm surprised we lasted that long. Good God it was bad. And unnecessarily bloody (or at least ketchup-y) and violent. Up next was Poseidon. Yeah, needless to say we lasted about 10 minutes. I did appreciate that the movie spared us character developement of people who are going to die one by one, but when the first guy falls down/up an elevator shaft onto jagged metal spikes (yes, jagged metal spikes at the TOP of an elevator shaft) and then gets crushed and blown up by the elevator itself, Poseidon was assigned to the same pile as Lightspeed. It was at this point that everyone else rebelled and made us watch a good film on Bad Film Friday, and I dont think we'll ever have another one.

Fifth, the next in line film that we were going to watch was Final Fantasy Advent Children. We didn't expect it to be bad, although we didn't expect it to be good either. We rented it mostly for the fact that the animation is incredible. And we did make it through the whole thing the next day, and it turned out to be pretty good and enjoyable. At least, enjoyable if all you want is no plot and fairly retarded dialouge, which are supplemented with mind meltingly cool fight scenes and a couple talking animals (which are okay, because they're purple.) It just so happens that I wanted exactly that. A movie with about as good of a plot as Asteroids, and actions sce... ]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/14442827/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/14442827/ Sat, 01 Sep 2007 14:44:00 PDT First things first. They have three parking lot like areas that can be used. One is the for the buses out back, one for the student parking lot out the other back, and one is a circle sweep out the front where the parents drop off. And they "work", or should I say, "work"-ed. Yes, they decided to change this too. Now the parents drop off and pick up where the buses used to go, and the buses drop off and pick up in the student parking lot. That's right. The student parking lot. Where all the students are trying to get in or out in one mad rush at the same time. You see, they saw the situation, they saw the jams created before and after school each day when the students try to get in or out of the student parking lot, and they said to themselves, "How can we make this worse? Oh, we can put the buses in there too!" And to make sure to bottleneck the lot further, the small and seldom used backway that leads from the student parking lot to where the buses used to go is now blocked off, and punishable with death by dodgeball squad if you cross it.
Next off, the lunches. Somebody had the brilliant idea that if you cut the lunch sizes in half and made you pay extra for each side that previously came with the food, they could score more cash. If you want the roll, it's now an extra 50 cents. If you want the fries, they're now an extra 50 cents. If you want a refill on the dixie cup that has now been cut into a half a dixie cup, you pay for the price of a new one. If you're still hungry after the chicken strips (which used to be two decent sized chicken strips; are now two nuggets of half the area and paper thin) you need to pay for a whole new lunch. The fries themselves used to be seasoned fries; now they're these icky, Yellow dye #14 fries that are a couple steps below Brahms. They also cut the drinks down as well. There used to be sweetened tea, unsweetened tea, and six flavors of juice, plus the soda machines. Now it's three flavors of juice, unsweetened tea (and no sugar packets), and no more soda machines. The only things they've actually added are two flavors of slushy which cost more. Now, the good news with the lunch room is that there are ways to cheat them. For instance, if you want a refill (which you're not allowed to have, and is punishable with death by boiling alive in the chili vats) if you're careful and wipe the styrofoam cup out with a napkin so there's no residue, then you can just say you didn't get your drink and were waiting for the lines to go down. Bingo, refill time. Ahh, the sweet taste of victory, and/or sugar water with Red dye #3.
Finally we come down to them telling us stuff. For about the first week, you're finding out the changes on your own. But eventually they gather everyone into the auditorium and give you a big list of things you're not allowed to do. The funny thing (that made me laugh out loud at them in audience), is that they prefaced the entire thing with a breif speech where the guy came out and forcefed us some BS about how he's just like us and doesn't like rules, and how he's not the bad guy, and he staunchly denied the existence of a special think tank over the summer creating new ways to screw us over. He assured us we weren't just down there to hear the things we cant do, that we'd hear things that had been added and things we could do; he then followed it up with nothing but a long list of things we're not allowed to do, with no other information. Mostly, it was the same things over again. There's no hugging, kissing, holding hands, balloons, blankets, stuffed animals, cell phones, laughing, smiling, being happy, listening to music of any kind, dancing, or doodling, and the breaking of any of these rules us punishable with death by being beat with rulers, and our bruised bodies being strung up in the Freshman hallway as a warning to anyone else who might think of such trifles as happiness. They also thought they'd add that if we were caught with a camera this year, anywhere near school grounds or on the bus, it would be taken away, the film pulled, and the photos deleted, and we would be punished with death by strangling with the film. We also are not allowed to wear t-shirts with, or draw pictures of snowmen, and failure to comply wuld be punishable with death by fatal carrot stabbing. Then they hearded us back to class, where the teacher said, "Well, now, that wasn't so bad, now was it."
All in all, its shaping up to be a normal year, just with more things we cant do, and more ways for them to mess with our heads and punish us over. My answer: REBELLION. Yes, I soon will be leading splinter cell of disgruntled students and we will take over the auditorium and gather all the faculty in and make them follow our new rules. An... ]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/14120485/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/14120485/ Sat, 11 Aug 2007 14:14:50 PDT [link]" width="150" height="330" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" menu="false" quality="high" wmode="transparent" allowScriptAccess="always" salign="lt" scale="noscale">

Chicka-chick-ah! Look at that. iTunes is doing something cool with these things called widgets. Never heard of them before, but it shows the artists I listen to the most, the bigger ones being the more heard. However, it seems to only show artists I bought on iTunes, not ones in my library, otherwise Muse, The Killers, and Crush40 would be really big words scrolling by. So here I am just having some fun with technology. Isn't it cool (when it works.)

So I'm sitting here, doing nothing, waiting around on a lazy Saturday, doing nothing, and listening to new music. I got the Arcade Fire, both albums, and almost entirely off of dogpile. I love free music. If it wasn't for free music off Dogpile, I'd never be able to get my own music. You see, the thing about it is this: in my family, music that everyone likes is incredibly hard to pick. Electric Light Orchestra, I love and my mom loves, but my sister hates; Muse, I love, my sister loves, but its too loud for my mom; Sixpense None the Richer, my sister loves and my mom is okay with, and I just hate. Its a never ending probelm, and so we end up getting things by the same artist over and over again, mostly Mark Knopfler or Billy Joel. But at the point we're at now (out of Dire Straits songs to download) there's not much else we can agree on. You see, I love Muse, Killer, Crush 40; I love all sorts of indy and alternative even emo music, as well as classic rock. If I had my way, I'd go off and buy My Chemical Romance and Talking Heads, but there's at least somebody that would object. So, I turn to Dogpile. I got all four Muse albums, the Killers first album, and most recently, both the Arcade Fire's albums. Top it off with elsewhere on the internet, I've managed to snag 140 video game songs I'd have no hope of even finding anywhere else, including Sonic Adventure 1, 2, Heroes and Shadow; Metroid Zero Mission, and NiGHTS: Into Dreams. I'd never be able to get these, not only because they either cant be found or afforded, or because I'm the only one here who likes them.

I'm the neglected child. Nothing bad against my mom, she does all she can. But my sister is whiny enough to get what she wants from my mom, and is my dad's favored spawn (because she allows him to buy her off after the divorce.) So because I dont bug my mom into buying me things, or because I dont trust gifts from Greeks, I end up with no toys, and hand me down clothes from my uncle in Arkansas. Not that they're bad clothes, actually they're very nice Arkansas Hawaiian shirts, and they are what I love and wear, just not what I picked out. My sister gets a two hundred dollar iPod that my dad paid half for, and then gets pretty clothes from my mom; and I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel to buy an outdated Sega Saturn on Ebay (best 20 bucks I ever spent.) It's looking like my sister's going to get my dad's Razeauxr when he gets his iPhone (poor, my butt), and I'll get to keep my free Nokia 320 (but actually, I want to keep it because it's got all my Sonic ringtones I made and sent to my phone; again, God bless the internet.) I'm not really complaining toward any one person. I'm a bit Spartan: I dine in Hell. No, not really, and in fact I hate and loath Frank Miller for turning the Queen of Sparta into a prostitute. No, I'm Spartan in the fact that if there's something I want, I'm contend to just not have it. If there's something I really want, I'll make it myself. I am a cardboard genius. Take for instance this. I wanted Heelies when they were popular the first time, and never got them, even now. So, when I just recently got a new pair of shoes, I took my old ones I'd had for four years, and cut off the bottoms and added inline skate wheels. Well, actually, I've gotten to the point where I've cut the bottoms off, and am going too, at some indecernable time in the future attach the wheels. It wont be too long, I just need to get some PVC pipes from Home Depot. Either way, I make due, and I'm fine with it. My sister doesn't make due, whines, gets everything she wants, and then decides she's bored with it and whines for something else. Heh, well, there's that approach, but I can say this. Most people like me better. So there...

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/13941424/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/13941424/ Mon, 30 Jul 2007 12:42:44 PDT
Join me next week, friends, when I compare Romen Noodles to divorce...

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/13846274/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/13846274/ Mon, 23 Jul 2007 12:30:30 PDT
It all started Friday night, which as it turned out would mark the opening of the last book. I didn't know this/think of this/care about this, and if my mom tells us on Tuesday that we're going to the bookstore on Friday night, I'd be planning on it and waiting for it, and you couldn't stop me even if it happened to host a Zombie Convention that night. I love the bookstore that much. Now, granted, when we got there, they happened to have big posters announcing a "Til Midnight Harry Potter Party" for that evening, and they did happen to have hald a dozen tables with sings above them announcing stuff like the "Face Painting Table", "Broomsticks For Sale Table", and the ever popular "Pin The Tail On The Lyger Table". Sure, okay fine, whatever. Those things were there, I saw them, but for the moment I didn't care, and was perfectly fine reading my comics around those things. They could bob for magic fruits or sacrifice virgins all night long for all I cared, so long as I got to read my comic books. Granny needs her stories, just remember that. We got there about, oh, say, 8:00 PM, and things were fine. Then about 8:45, people started showing up in costumes. And things went downhill from there. First person I saw was this 40 year old, sweating, balding man wearing a red cloak. I seriously couldn't tell if he was a pedophile, or was in fact a warlock. I didn't think it polite to ask him. Then started coming the fan girls. Actually, apart from the previously mentioned Don Juan and a few Klingons who had the wrong address, I dont think I saw a single male person there in costume who wasn't on the bookstore staff. Turns out they were obligated by law to dress up that night; the bookstore made a deal with the devil, AKA J.K. "I'm a billionaire" Rowling. When enough people arrived, they started their "festivities." First off was the small things, such as the "Who Can Eat The Most Disgustingly Flavored Jelly Beans Contest", followed by the (Magic) Raffle Ticket Drawing, the winner of which won a brand new Broomstick (must have a license to participate.) Things went a little awry when some Hufflepuff girls had a little too much mead, tried to get rowdy in the (Magic) Petting Zoo, and ended up Purina Gryphon Chow, but accidents happen, and no one was too concerened. By 9:30, the place was crawling with all sorts of unimaginable horrors who looked like they'd bought their costumes at Hell R Us. By the point that they tried sending my sister to Shebulba, and a Slitherian girl asked if I wanted to see her Sorcerer's Stone, things were getting a little edgy. Finally, we had to leave when they started to most horrifying thing I've ever seen in my life; joining hands and singing Kum Bai Ya. That was the time we officially had to scurry like the Muggles we are.

The next day I was greeted with the sad news that Harry Potter does not die at the end of the last book, which ruined the rest of my weekend. I also learned a few things I didn't know about their little universe. First off, I had no idea Dumbledore dies, and to be honest, I wasn't entirely convinced his name really was Dubmbledore. Seriously, and they think Bumblebee is a stupid name for a Transformer? I also learned that Snape is Alan Rickman. All this time I could've sworn that Snape was that bleach blonde warlock from California. Turns out that one is Draco and Alan Rickman's character is Snape, which means that if I'd known that when I heard all the raving fangirls talk about how hott Snape was I would've broken my Vomit Record long ago (haven't barfed since March 2003, BTW.) I also learned that a good friend of mine reads these books, and if I'd known that earlier, I wouldn't have told him Harry Potter doesn't die. Oops.

And lastly, I'd like to say, for those of you who think I'm too harsh on the raving Harry Potter fandom, take solice in the fact that I have, on multiple occasions, dressed up as Baragon from Godzilla and walked aimlessly around my apartment complex. And that for the last week of school the year when Revenge of the Sith came out, I carried a lightsaber (Samuel L. Jackson's purple lightsaber, foo' and would've had a Jedi robe on too, if they weren't all sold out Walgreens. Yes, I am/have been a raving fan of other things, I just happen to really hate Harry Potter, and am sick and tired of people calling me that just because my name is Harry. Next person who calls me that will get their broomstick shoved down their throat.

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/13794927/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/13794927/ Thu, 19 Jul 2007 12:32:18 PDT
Okay, the instructions are as follows:

1. Turn on your computer. Check.
2. Turn on your iTunes or music folder or something like it. Check
3. Turn on the random feature of said music program. Check
4. For each of the following "scategories", write down the song that is playing.
5. When you've written it down, press the "Next Song" button, and write it down for the next "scategory".
6. And dont cheat to look cool (yeah right.)

The categories, in order, are as follow.

Opening Credits
Waking Up
First Day At School
Falling In Love
Fight Song
Breaking Up
Prom
Life's OK
Mental Breakdown
Driving
Flashback
Getting Back Together
Wedding
Birth of Child
Final Battle
Death Scene
Funeral Song
End Credits

Ready? Let's begin. Here's mine.

Opening Credits:
Screenager by Muse

Waking Up:
Chaos 6 by Crush40 (instrumental from Sonic Adventure)

First Day At School:
News by Dire Straits

Falling In Love:
Birdhouse In Your Soul by They Might Be Giants

Fight Song:
Somebody Told Me (Acoustic) by The Killers

Breaking Up:
Whoop De Doo by Mark Knopfler

Prom:
Maria Maria by Santana

Life's OK:
Over The Rainbow by Chet Atkins and Les Paul

Mental Breakdown:
There She Goes Again by R.E.M.

Driving:
Mr. Melee by Laika and the Cosmonauts

Flashback:
Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day

Getting Back Together:
Are You Happy Now? by Michelle Branch

Wedding:
Wash Away by Vertical Horizon

Birth of Child:
Re-Hash by Gorillaz

Final Battle:
Swing, Swing by All-American Rejects

Death Scene:
Under Pressure by Queen and David Bowie

Funeral Song:
This River Is Wild by The Killers

End Credits:
Blue Monday by Orgy

So, are we all still awake? Good, cause now it's your turn. Have fun, and remember, there will be a test.

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/13757553/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/13757553/ Mon, 16 Jul 2007 13:26:29 PDT
First off, this weekend, I narrowly dodged two bullets. First was a Weird Al concert. Believe me, I think he's funny, his songs crack me up, but that doesn't mean I want to go to his concert. I really have no interest in going to any concert, by anybody. It would take Dire Straits making a comeback album to make me want to go to a concert, or a very special occasion (the one time I wanted to go to a concert was when Dick Dale passed through town a few months ago.) If seeing Los Lobos at the Dallas Museum of Art counts as a concert, I've been to one, and that was enough for me. The reason why I almost went goes back a bit. My dad has some new buddies, a really nice couple who are very cool. The guy collects pinball machines and is a big Mystery Science Theatre 3000 fan. Those are two of my favorite things in the world. Now, we had lunch with them a month or two ago, and it turns out they were going to a Weird Al concert that just happened this weekend past. Now, at the time, I thought I made it perfectly clear I'm not a fan of concerts, but I dont think they heard that part, and about a week later my dad calls up to say that they bought two extra tickets for my sister and me, and now we're kinda obligated to go. They're very, very, very nice people, and I'd hate to hurt their feelings, but I really dont want to go, and to a degree, I'm a little annoyed that they didn't listen to a word I said about "not wanting to go to concerts". No one ever does. Let's face it, you're not even listening to me now, are you? Either way, I was kinda dreading spending a whole Saturday evening with giant speakers blaring right into my ears, but it turns out if you sweep a problem under the rug, it will actually go away. That's my family's motto basically, and it really does work sometimes. Turns out my sister, who wanted to go even less than I did, was invited to a going away party for a girl she knows who's moving to Alaska (bad choice in my opinion, just too cold), and my sister got it into her head not to go. In concocting an excuse not to go, and doing her best to exclude me from those plans, it turns out they thought I was included anyways. She begged off a week early, and come morning of the concert, I still thought I was going. I call my dad to see when he's gonna pick me up, and turns out they gave my ticket away. If they had listened to my sister, they would've picked up on the fact that she was desperately trying to keep me going but getting her off. Either way, I was invited by people not listening, and I got out of it by people not listening. It all worked out in the end. I think my dad did end up going, and he didn't want to either, so it all worked out very well.

Next bullet, my dad throwing a big party. Like I've told him a milion times before, I dont like parties either. I'm just not a social person. I dont like being in groups larger than five people, even. And a great big party, where everyone is required to do one round of Dance Dance Revolution is not the way I want to spend my Sunday afternoon. This one wasn't to hard to get out of; I have no obligations to go with my dad just because he's nice, so that was was just a matter of telling him I'm not a party person, every time he brought up the stupid thing, and then just not answering any cell phone call, all sunday long. Simple really.

Anyways, so now that those close calls over the weekend are over, it's back to the tedium of sitting at home. Verizon hasn't been to annoying today, though a little bit slow here. I have all three lights on, so it's smooth sailing for a while. I have one last issue to write for my season four comics, and so that one might be finished by the end of the week. I still have 800 pages of Don Quixote, and a month and a half to read them, and so I better get cracking on that. I think Univision stopped playing my favorite Spanish sitcom (Hospital De La Paisa) and so it's back to watching Scrubs at 11:30. That's a big dissappointment, but life goes on as always. There is food in the fridge for now, but you never know when Tuscan Raiders will show up and steal all the food. Wish they'd take my sister. All she does is insult things she knows I like, but say its not supposed to be offensive. Seriously, she had just within the last few moments insulted Fastball, Vertical Horizon (which is her CD), DeviantArt, cadaver ventriloquism, Hospital De La Paisa, the word katana, and provalone cheese. She just cant stop.

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/13528404/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/13528404/ Thu, 28 Jun 2007 16:59:26 PDT
Now, as some may have noticed I haven't updated any new major greatest works of art of the 21st century in a bit. Well, that's all about to change. For the past week, I was housesitting for a friend (or, I should say my mom was housesitting, I was lounging around enjoying the pool and Tivo.) Ahh, nothing like being able to not only watch anything that comes on, but also to be able to pause, rewind, and fast forward through commercials to I dont miss anything. There's also nothing like it to remind you there's still nothing on. Now, I will admit it was nice to watch the programs I normally watch without the horrible snow hat covers half my screen here at home, but seeing as how the tv wasn't in my room, I couldn't watch my shows anyway because it was late night. I could record and watch them the next day, but somehow, Hospital De La Paisa is much more comforting watching it in my room, in my bed, on my tv. Besides, the Spanish stations come in perfectly anyways. Its the programs I watch in my own language I can only hear, not see. However, it was nice to get to watch Superfriends and Justice League on Boomerang (though I am very annoyed that Justice League is on there, not Cartoon Network; it's not an old show.) There were some ups and downs. My problem was that if there was something on, my sister had the remote; when I had it there wasn't anthing on. At the point that I finally managed to get both the remote, and something to watch, a freak storm knocked the antanae out. If anyone knows how the Tales From The Crypt episode "Only Skin Deep" ends, please tell me.

They also had a pool, which was totally freezing (here in Texas, that's the last thing I'd expect, but sure enough stay in there too long and you'll end up unconsious, and wake up missing a kidney. There are some problematic neighbors, too, I guess.) I seriously could only last 20 minutes in there, and am pretty much surprised I made it that long. Plus there was some green algae that tried to eat my sister while we were in there, and come to find out, a pool in your backyard for just you and your sister with nothing to do is really boring. We also came across some problems with the security system. Apperently the owners had made bitter enemies of Harry Houdini, Sean Connery, and Mikhail Gorbechav. First off, when you set the alarm, it doesn't just go off if a door or window opens, it goes off if something moves in the house. We had to learn the hard way that those white plastic plates in the walls are motion sensitive beams, and if set off, will turn on the high pitched alarm, phone the police, call every armed neighbor within 300 miles, and begin to fill the house with a highly corosive, flesh eating gelatinous goo that will kill on impact and leave the fresh scent of pine. So setting the alarm before going to bed that first night turned out to be a disaster (why did they put a motion sensor between the control panel and the nearest bedroom, I ask.) It also turns out that the dogs were planning a breakout, because when we set it when we went out for groceries, they managed to set it off too. So after two false alarms, and a call/fax/armed threat from each neighbor on the block telling us that the owners get charged for each alarm we decided it would be best not to mess with it. To top off the complexity of the situation, there was no (edible) food in the house, apart from the half eaten ice cream sandwhich in a plastic bag in the freezer. And despite a grocery store being mildly close (ie: within the state border); the fact that the neighborhood was a maze of complicated streets necessitated a GPS and a map of the London Underground to navigate our way out of there; and the fact that the neighborhood was located within an even larger maze of complicated highways, it added anothing 4000 miles to a quick trip to the closest grocery store. After the first time we foolishly tried to escape, and ended up in Cuba, we decided it would again be best not to mess with it. And finally, I come to the reason why we were there in the first place, the dog (or as the owners reffered to him in the instructions, "the bonnie Prince Andy Brown". Despite being the fattest, deafest Cocker Spaniel I've ever met, he was very sweet. Apart from the moments when he chased our cat under the bed, or barked at us to give him our dinner, he was very sweet, affectio... ]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/13360544/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/13360544/ Fri, 15 Jun 2007 19:28:24 PDT
In other news, my scaner has stopped working again; so I'm about ready to murder either it or my brand new computer (or, I should say my om's brand new computer, which we only have since the other one died last October.) The NiGHTS: Into Dreams I finally won from eBay is at least 17 days late, and the guy wont respond to my messages. Someone's about to get a very diplomaticly placed negative mark. The third light on my box just turned on... and just turned off again. If you cant already tell just how close to the edge I'm being pushed, let me sum up my current status: IT'S 11:59 UNTIL ARMAGEDDON!

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/13215360/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/13215360/ Mon, 04 Jun 2007 13:07:19 PDT
NO MORE HOMEWORK, NO MORE BOOKS,
NO MORE TEACHERS DIRTY LOOKS!

yep, that's right, school is out. And I couldn;t be happier for it to be over this year. I swear, it was the worst one yet. Thankfully, my next year is Senior, and I've heard its a-okay.

However, being the only 17 year old around here with no license, car, job, money, or friends, I am stuck here in my apartment, playing endless games of Tetris and Super Mario Brothers against my sister. It's been nothing but arcade games and listening to the Killers for a week now. I fear I ma be going insane. My mind is tugging at the corners of my skull, and attempting periodically to escape through my ears or something. There's no food in the fridge right now. I may have to revert to cannibalism very soon, but then there'd be no one who's butt I could kick at Balloon Fighter.

On the bright side, any day now, today perhaps, either Darkstalkers or NiGHTS Into Dreams should arrive from eBay (I finally got 'em), and then I'll have something new to do. A friend did loan me Metroid Fusion, and so I stayed up til 4 a.m. last night trying to beat the damn SA-X. I d have to say, they got to the point of that robot spider and the designers must have said, "hey, let's play a joke on all the players and make the bosses impossible." Seriously, the Spider, the Vine monster, the Nightmare, and the SA-X are near impossible to beat, and so rediculously hard that it almost ruins the awesomeness of the rest of the game. And not the fun but hard kind, they are cheap bosses, with no weaknesses and cheap attacks that will erase half your health bar in one hit or something stupid. The rest of the game is awesome, but the bosses are rediculous.

Also, I am working on my comics. The GREAT COMIC BOOK ARTIST EXPERIMENT is going quite nicely. At the moment, I've gotten responses from 3 out of the 5 artists who I have to contact through emails. I may have the wrong email address for the other two, which is unfortunate, but probably can be remedied. The other two artists are actually myself and one of my sister's friends, and I see both of them often enough that I can just give them the outlines by hand. So, The comics are doing good.

As for now, I hear the Russian midi music calling. Oh, Tetris is a cruel mistress, but I must answer her call. Goodbye for now, my lady desires my presence.

PS, Whoever caught my rampant Muppet Treasure Island reference in the title, good for you. Whoever didn't, you should be ashamed of yourself. Go rent it. Right now.

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/13060978/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/13060978/ Wed, 23 May 2007 09:15:37 PDT
In other news, my quest for the game NiGHTS remains going. When the Wii came out with its motion controllers, Critics everywhere kept mentioning this as being perfect grounds for a NiGHTS 2. On the off chance that it might actually happen, I promised myself to get a Wii if it came out. Turns out it had a better chance than I thought. Sad thing is, I still have just as much money as I thought ($0!), so it's still off limits. However, thanks to the magic of eBay, I still have a chance to play the original. So I went out and got a SEGA Saturn (which arrived Monday.) I also got a copy of the original game, which also arrived Monday. As it turns out there happens to be a Japanese version of the Saturn, and an American version. Games for either one do not play on the other. Same problems as Region 1 and 2 DVDs I guess. Well, it just so happens that I have an American Saturn, and a Japanese NiGHTS. So, while I have both of them together in the same house, they still dont work. So its back to the auctions.

Final exams start today, as well as the last Chicken Fried Steak. I hope they have those instant mashed potatoes (which they didn't Monday; they were replaced with what appeared to be kouse kouse, but was undoubtedly the ground up souls of "missing" PAS students.) So, I'm working hard here on exams (seriously, I'm working on one right now), and still have two more tomorrow.

Oh, by the way, HI MOM!

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/12912575/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/12912575/ Thu, 10 May 2007 15:39:58 PDT
Now for the real ISSUE at stake: THE GREAT COMIC BOOK ARTISTS EXPERIMENT!!! My webcomic, the Jalapeno Kronicles, has ben going for quite some time now. As of yet, I've been doing all the work, and only recently did I realize that my sister is such a ood colorer, and thus passed the reigns of that job to her. The comics move in terms of story arcs consisting of 10 comics each, and I'm onto the third story arc, Generations. Now, #5 is going to be about the main villain Psuedo, who recently has become far less villainy, and in fact has been "missing" for som time by the point of the current arc, Generations. So, in his new and respected role as reality controlling antihero, he's going to be featured with an entire story arc all to his own that explains where he's been the last few years, and will also flesh out a few incidents that have been referenced but not explained so far in Generations. The first three comics will consist of a brief adventure in Minute City, involving my character as well and a blonde ninja girl named Juliet (who has shown up in Generations with a mysterious past.) The last seven comics will make up the main meat of the arc, and feature Psuedo with a vilain entirely to his own whom he fights in South America somewhere.

And here's where the EXPERIMENT comes in: each of the seven comics will be drawn by a guest artist. I've looked around, and found some friends, and lo and behold, I have the list of artists. So, in short, coming soon is a bunch of comics drawn by guest artists. All I can say, is its going to be awesome.

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/12752946/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/12752946/ Fri, 27 Apr 2007 09:42:22 PDT
so here i am, surfing Deviant and listening to an endless playlist of totally awesome songs. whether its Sonic the Hedgehog instrumentals, The Killers, Muse, Dire Straits or Dick Dale, this is enough to take my mind off other things.

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/12529152/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/12529152/ Mon, 09 Apr 2007 17:56:36 PDT
my computer (and therefore my scanner) has been down and dead since last October. finally, recently, we took the damn thing to our local Geeksquad and guess what: the motherboard is shot and we need a new one. oddly enough, after waiting so long for the money to fix it, we ended up with the money to buy a new one; so here i am, scanner ready on a new laptop. oh they thought they'd keep my comics and my artowkr down when they killed my computer. little did they know that they'll never stop me. NEVER!!! you here me world? you here me Epsilon Team? You here me FBI, CIA, INTERPOL, UN, UNICEF, NAACP? You'll never take me alive, and you'll never stop me!

PS.: heh, i got a new Muse album (Absolution, not the new one) and have been listening to it non stop. no wonder i'm so paranoid right now.

]]> ~MilleniumRodan http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/9262874/ http://MilleniumRodan.deviantart.com/journal/9262874/ Mon, 03 Jul 2006 16:24:40 PDT ~MilleniumRodan