I’m not going to comment upon the length between now and my last post and the intricate rationalizations ruminating within my mind. That would be too easy a post to right about. Nor am i going to equate my writing dry spell to laziness. That would be too true a post to write about. Instead I will talk about the joy in my life that is Call of Duty 4 Modern Warfare 2. The name in itself is ridiculous. We are a culture of consumers. and this title combines our consumer practices with our inability to accept change. I’m sure the head of marketing for CoD4 MW2 knew right away that a name like Call of Duty 4 Modern Warfare 2 was ridiculous. It’s long. It’s generic. It has two sets of sequal numbers in it adding to more than six. Even Land Before Time knew not to go that far. It’s ridiculous sounding. But not as ridiculous as not calling this game Call of Duty 4 Modern Warfare 2. Its a grand total of twenty three letters not including spaces and numbers all put to the most cliched use to assure me that i am spending my money in the best way. The way I’ve been spending my money for the past ten years towards the rest of the Call of Duty franchise.

It’s funny. The developers of COD4MW2 were going to simply call the game Modern Warfare 2. Stupid sounding without the assurance of branding. Anyway, i forget what my main idea of this post was. . . . hmmmm . . .  this is definitely not worthy of publishing . . . even online . . . it’s like a sad elementary book report of a wikipedia article . . . not even a good wikipedia article . . . maybe one written about  an obscure farming tool specific to an unpopular rural region of asia during the early 11th century . . . or something.

Anyway, Call of Duty has ruined my life. But not as much as Halo as i am able to intake Call of Duty in moderation, for i am forced to play without friends as the game does not support split screen play. Therefore, i feel lonely and anti-social when i play and thus, am depressed even further by my unwillingness to see real people. Incidentally, this in itself defeats the purpose of video games which is to curb the sting of reality and responsibility.

I’m taking two Rhetoric/Film classes. They are great. There is a secret movie screening room in dwinelle that only lecturers can access via keys. its pretty boss. like a miniature theater.

I am moving. Moving approximately three doors down the hall to a bigger, nicer apartment. It’s remodeled with new granite kitchen tops, wooden cabinets, and hardwood floors. It’s a beautiful place but the price matches its luxury. Moving is always an emotional process. It’s full of excitement, aggrevation, and exhaustion, but ultimately its this change in life that comprises what life is about. My roomate and i have a lot of heavy lifting ahead. Our small studio is in shambles with boxes and bags scattered in every corner. There is little to no space to sit. Boxes are on the floor, on the chairs, on other boxes. I don’t know what to do in my room anymore but to stare at the eternal mess that represents hours of heavy lifting and heavy organization. Organization is niether mine nor my roomate’s strong points. Speaking for myself, i tend to focus on one thing while putting the rest on the backburner. This has led to piles of dishes and a moldy toilet, but thats okay.

I am okay with being myself. Ever since i found out that my personality was that of an ISFP (Introverted Sensing Feeling and Perceiving), i’ve felt validation for all my life choices. I am an Idealist. Internalizing but interracting with rest of the world. The fact that there is now a method to my madness makes has allowed me to take pride in my eccentricities i’ve considered weaknesses. Oh well. time to get back to moving.

I am writing this as a substitute for yesterday’s absence. I was visiting my relatives in San Francisco and forgot to bring my laptop with me. Forgive me. Life is all about forgiveness. More importantly life is about relationships. Relationships with loved ones, relationships with hated ones, relationships with your couch and a nice movie on a cool summer’s night. So what did i do yesterday? I went to Sunnyvale down south from Berkeley. The weather was rightly sunny, and the scenery was enjoyable. Afterwards, i went to my MaMa’s house and ate good food. Oh and i watched slumdog millionaire!!! hmmm, i guess i’ll write a review about that then . . . .

Obviously Slumdog Millionaire is a good movie. Critics loved it. audiences loved it. It won an Oscar for Best Motion picture of the year. This film has merit and has been proven to be of the highest caliber. Interestingly, Slumdog did not gain its notoriaty through weekend box office openings alone. I’m sure many of you stumbled upon this gem through word of mouth seeing as many theaters only chose to show the film after the nomination. I heard of this fim, i think, from Carol, my high school friend that knows indie things too cool for school. So naturally, i jumped at the chance to watch the movie on her laptop proving to myself that i too was alt cool. The exclusivity of watching such a powerful film on such a tiny laptop screen hightened every emotion. Going into the Oscars, i’m sure many saw this film as the underdog, darkhorse nomination that could never hold up against the likes of other more maintstream films. But i think it was the exclusive feeling that was carried by the smaller release of Slumdog that allowed all who watched it to feel like they alone were a part of something so special that no one else was taking part in. Their nominations a plea for all others to watch. Little did we know, we were all in on it the whole time.

I am really tired and exhausted from doing absolutely nothing today except watching movies. I saw Benjamin Button at home and Drag Me To Hell in theaters. I liked the latter more. DMTH is like a cautionary fable set in modern day times complete with revenge-seeking gypsies, posessed goats, and caniving bank tellers. So fun and campy. At one point, to fight away a ghost, the main character is trapped in her shed with the ghost’s arm all the way down her throat. She is fortunately holding an ice skate in her hand so she cuts a pulley that drops a coincidentally conveniently placed anvil right on top of the ghost’s head. Unfortunately her eyeball are launched from her head right on the face of the protagonist. So random. So funny. Anyway I’m tired.

Goodnight. sorry this is short.

Briana, David Fong, Justin, Jenna, Jef, Michelle, and I went to breakfast at Ikea today. After passing by the Klippan and the Billy and the Florgan Flagger, we made it to the cafeteria. The smell of freshly brewed coffee saturated the air, and the overcast sky reflected off the sterile white walls and plastic white tabletops. the value of 99 cents brought us outside the confines of the Royston apartments on this last day of Core retreat. What else could i buy with 99 cents? about ten minutes of parking in downtown San Francisco. One McChicken minus the cost of tax. About half an hour calling my family in Singapore. None of these worth a whole breakfast of eggs, bacon, and potatoes. . . heheh, just kidding family.

Anyway, we ate, and it was delicious. But really, why did we venture all the way down to Emeryville for breakfast? Not for nourishment, and not for value, but because we were all able to enjoy these perks together. As a family.

Mom. You know what im talking about.

In conclusion, Ikea was yummy and vastly enjoyable and i will definitely be looking forward to going there again in the near future.

Rockband used to be the staple of our Thursday night large groups. I remember the golden days of rocking out into the wee hours of the night along with three other instrumental maestros grooving along to color coated notations. I was king just for three minutes at a time, but in those three minutes, the world was my domain. My rule extended beyond the walls of the apartment past the Berkeley city limits and beyond the confines of this known universe. I was amazing. The drums were my specialty but any instrument would do, so long as i could rock out and be a man. Rockband had the power to captivate, yet after a few months, we abandoned Rockband for the next new fad . . . Bang! or Settlers or Halo or whatever.

There Rockband sat for many countless months. the drumheads collecting dust. The bass peddle cracked and taped over with duct tape. the grease stains on the guitars drying up. The spit on the microphone completely evaporated into lost times of grand adventure. Rockband was forever lost in the sea of our own short attention spans. We spent the same amount of time hanging out, but Rockband sat neglected next to a couch making it hard for people to plug things into a power strip located directly underneath the drumset. I had purchased Rockband for the PS2, so the resale value was near next to nothing. In the back of my mind, i figured there would be a time that i would feel like playing it again. Maybe when i had kids. Or maybe when those kids had their own kids and they wanted to play some old vintage game that swept the nation and held its attention for a total of eight weeks.

But no. Last night, we turned to the Rockband. I wiped the dust off of the drumheads. Changed the batteries of the wireless guitars. Plugged the PS2 into the back of the tv. Everything was in place for this one night revival. We would bring the dead back to life.

After a minute of load time and a reacquaintance with unfamiliar feelings, we recaptured the night. Everything and anything under the sky was ours as we, the Experts (our band name because everyone played on expert, clever huh?) drummed, picked, and slapped our way into eternal existence. An eternity that would last a little over three minutes.

This is the post Jess wrote when i was away from my computer playing rockband after a long day of AACF leadership retreating:

I like buying stuff. Over the past 1.2 days, i’ve wanted to buy a Dairy Leak Save Radio, an electronic drum kit, a new camping tent, and tight purple shirts that make me look metro and filipino. I like having new things.  Better, I love having my girlfriend. Actually, i like the idea of having new things more than i like actually having them. I have lots of things just sitting in my closet not fulfilling anything of value. But not my girlfriend, she’s full of value.  I should just invest.  Not buy all these new things…save up money and sweep jess off her feet.  Get that twenty million dollar ring from tiffanys and marry her.  Boy, would mike lin not like that one.  Consumerism.  They are items living unremarkable lives.  I have no idea what I meant when I wrote that last sentence.  I just don’t care if there is junk in my teeth.  Hipster you know? Don’t care.

Wow.

So i just saw a sneak preview of UP tonight in the Castro District of SF. After driving around for at least half an hour looking for parking, I got to wait in line for another hour to secure a seat for UP in 3-D! It was utter mayhem, waiting in a line that stretched around the theater hoping to get good seats, and to our success, we managed to get very decent views. I’m just going to jump right into how i felt about the movie because it was pretty amazing. I don’t think i’ve ever been that emotionally choked up while watching a cartoon before.

The first ten minutes were phenomenal.

I didn’t think i would enjoy UP, because the concept seemed one-note and contrived. A man makes his house fly with balloons. how could you make an entire movie about that?  This wasn’t high-concept like a futuristic utopia gone wrong or a tale of anamorphic talking toys, this was simply an old man going on a plain old adventure.

The movie proved my initial feelings to be both right and wrong.

The plot was pretty standard for a Disney movie, and the pacing was fun, yet lacked the creativity and uniqueness of other Pixar vehicles. The laughs harkened back to the golden age of disney movies introducing one comical companion after another. And the plot moved along well without any hitches or slowdowns. Yet, the Pixar magic dust didn’t seem to translate into the backbone of the story. If it were not for the first ten minutes of the movie, i would have dismissed this movie as a Pixar film alltogether and categorized it with the likes of other computer animated Disney movies like Chicken Little.

But this was not so. The first ten minutes defined the rest of the movie. The shallow typical Disney adventure storyline was made truly deep and fulfilling because of character defining exposition. I didn’t think i would really care for the old man, but in the first ten minutes of the story, i learned about his whole life and what he cherished most. Basically it went through a whole nother side story showing the seasons of true love–so beautiful. Anyway, I’m not going to say anymore to ruin or overhype a good thing.

Okay. short post. go see UP and cherish life.

hello all. I’m writing this as i have just come back form the theaters to see a back-to-back viewing of Terminator and Wolverine. Both equally sparse on the dialogue and both equally mind-numbing to watch from a critical English major standpoint. I’m going to put on my analytical thinking cap right now to make this post longer than “yeah, the explosions were really cool.” Becaus OF COURSE the explosions were really cool. thats why producers put hundreds of millions of dollars into production costs. To make those two seconds of explosions jump out from the screen and singe your eyebrows from twelve different angles.

This will be a review about the movie Terminator Salvation. I went to see Terminator on a pretty big screen in the middle of the theater in some pretty nice seats with just the perfect amount of leg space. I decided upon not purchasing popcorn because it cost almost as much as another ticket. But i bought popcorn in the end. There. that covers the latter portion of my title.

Now onto the movie review.

Terminator Salvation is basically Matrix Lite. Mankind is in the near future fighting a battle against computers and technology that became self-aware and is now stronger than us, systematically removing mankind from the face of the earth. Basically, it’s the end of humanity and we are the resistance. I always thought the Terminator series to be the more optimistic version of the Matrix, but I’ve found that it’s optimism exists only in the fact that it does not delve deep enough into the psychy of the human condition nor does it truly reconcile the true power technology has rule over man. It merely gives an excuse for one explosion to follow another. Sure, it might be masking itself with the time travel conundrum, but really, who are you kidding, Terminator? Time travel has already been done this summer with Star Trek with the same sleekness and stream-lined figure of the new Starfleet Enterprise. About twenty minutes in, i saw a movie completely derivitive of every other futuristic apocalyptic summer blockbuster. But the fault rests with me alone. Expecting more from the same man who directed Charlie’s Angels: Full Throttle can only be a testament to my own poor judgment.

So, lets talk about what i liked. The production value really shines through. Artistically, i could tell a lot of money went into the filming. The whole tone of the movie was perfect, because every shot consisted of either a dusty brown or a charcoal gray. The harshness of the landscape void of vegetation and life fills the screen. And the coldness and brutality of metal and machine mutes emotion and taints even the human characters who wear only black, gray, and almost brownish gray. I could really feel the tension in the landscape– the hopelessness all around me. And that is where my compliments shall end.

I didn’t like the pacing of the movie. Things would just randomly happen; whether good or bad or completely batcrap insane, they all just kind of happened. We get no backstory or set-up for these occurrences, each person just seems to stumble upon them to progress the “story” of the movie. One scene, it will be raining and a girl is talking to a friend, and the next scene, the rain will all of a sudden cease and she’s fighting off futuristic cowboy rapists. I didnt like any of the characters either. Batman . . .er . . . Christian Bale basically screamed at me the whole time. Don’t hurt me im just trying to enjoy my seven dollar popcorn. If my self-esteem needed to be any lower you could poke my belly too. why don’t you just do that, mr. bale. He screams and things get done, that’s just how it is.

Also, He has a major messiah complex. I don’t understand why either. I mean, every mission he goes on, he becomes the lone survivor. He causes a helicopter to crashland, all his friends get eaten by mechanical sea snakes, and he gets a pat on the back for being the fastest to run out of the water. Good on you for being a team player. and finally, he portrays less emotion than the terminators do. Seriously, the other main character turned out to be a terminator, and the terminator created more human attachments and drew more sympathy from the audience. But maybe that is the point of the movie. I hate to credit McG (the director’s name–or perhaps a new item from the dollar menu) with something he doesnt deserve, but i really admired the commentary the final ending of the movie revealed.

Don’t read this if you don’t want to know the ending, but its not that amazing anyway. Basically, the head talking computer tells this one terminator that he’d succeeded in his mission. This same terminator, throughout the whole movie, has been helping the humans and building strong emotional attachments to them. He willingly fights off other terminators and tries to protect the humans and even volunteers to go blow up the main computer headquarter. But in the end, the head bad guy tells him that he did all this to fulfill his mission. Unlike the terminators of the past who had a logical straightforward directive– go there, kill that guy– this terminator was tricked into actually helping the humans in order to unknowingly sabotage them later. Constrastingly, Christian Bale tells his people not to drop a bomb on the robot HQ because “if we act only on calculations, we are no better than the machines we are fighting.” So basically, he wants humans to maintain their humanity, because that is what defines them from the other intelligent robotic life.

So in order to actually succeed in his mission, the terminator inherited human characteristics. He built relationships, he put his life on the line to save others, he volunteered to be courageous for the greater good. In the end, he even sacrificed his heart to save Christian Bale. This human terminator only succeeded because he became human in deed and thought. So ultimately, humanity is the victorer, even if the robots do kill off every last human. It is not a matter of flesh vs. alloy but rather compassion vs. calculation. In the end, the robots only succeed in defeating the human resistance, because they inherit their ways of loving and caring for those around them and those they have allegience to. The good terminator had all the best intentions in mind, he truly thought he was helping the humans when he saved their lives time and time again, but really he was building a trust and luring them into a trap without his own knowledge of the consequence. So yay, go mankind!

anyway, after that, i saw Wolverine. It was fun. The explosions were really cool.

Today i worked a full shift at the museum. I haven’t worked in a while and it was kind of nice getting back into the grove of things. Counting all the artwork, turning on all the projectors and random computer displays, and telling patrons not to touch or take pictures of the artwork. In a way, it felt like coming home. I knew exactly where to go and what time to go and how to get there. But, also in a way, it was like coming home to a different house. There were a lot of new people working there, and a very few of the friends that i had made over last summers stint when i was jsut beginning to make the Berkeley Art Museum my home. I felt like the lone survivor, left on the island while all the other castaways were picked up by the rescue chopper. Interestingly, the day went by faster than i remembered it being. I had a lot of time to stand and think about my life and its trajectory, and i can only hope that i will have such amazing thinking time later in life when im not forced to stop and do nothing. It’s sad that reflection only comes when there’s nothing left to do but be in the presence of my own consciousness.

I got to thinking about the path my life is going to take in the next few years. Firstly, i lamented the number of summers i have between school years. Three. Only three. I’ve already spent one, and im beginning the second . . . doing the exact same thing . . . working. . . . and going to school. But really, both are and will be peppered with amazing journeys with friends and family. But i like to focus on the mediocre tedium because i sometimes have a pessimistic tendency. And pessimism is always more entertaining than optimism. Seriously, the sun can’t always shine.

So i asked myself some questions. GRE or LSAT? Eating healthy or excercising or both (!?!?!)? clean my room or just throw it all into the closet? fly to Seattle of Texas? write a story or a play? eat fried chicken or a burrito? and the questions persisted. Some deathly weighty, but most inconsequential. I thought long and hard about my place in college and on earth, and came to the conclusion that i wanted to be a space ninja.

So for the rest of the time until my lunch break, i pretended i was a space ninja, or more of an assassin for hire. I had a sword kind of like a lightsaber but not really, and two futuristic laser shooting six-shooters like the ones cowboys in movies would wear at their sides. I think my imagination was a tad manipulated by the recent movie star trek seeing as i would teleport to my locations, but still . . . i’d like to think my space ninja escepade was more or less my original idea. Halfway into a mission to do something that i can’t remember anymore, i took a mental step back and thought, “this is ridiculous.” I am twenty years old pretending to be a guy carrying a laser sword that can cut through anything. I am an adult. I can drive and pay bills. I vote for stuff. I am a student who reads hundreds and hundreds of pages of philisophical rhetoric mumbo-jumbo. I have to cook for myself. I have my own account with Blockbuster. Why am i acting like a five year old?

But then i took another mental step back. “This is awesome.” i am revisiting the euphoria of my youth. I’m being paid to enjoy what i loved doing most as a child. Using my imagination was the greatest way to pass time. Why i would ever want to pass time as a child in the first place is beyong me, but this was becoming a really awesome work tangent. If i had a computer in front of me, i would probably jsut be playing blockles or reading a blog about nothing, but instead. I GET TO BE A KID. and not only any kid. I get to be me.

Realizing this, i promptly went back to work slaying faceless soldiers with my dual-wielded six-shooters until i was forced to take my lunch break.

Upon my return. I forgot how to kill stuff and actually did my job. I guess imagination has a mind of its own.