While I don’t agree that we should start mass sterilizations of our population, I can’t help but feel like that would really be the only way to control some people.  The point, however, is that couples should not have more than two children.  We should just have enough to replace ourselves, and maintain the current population.  (In reality, we would be lowering the population slowly, due to accidental deaths.)  Using words like “parasites” and “plague” might be a strong way of putting it, but Lee is correct in those thoughts.  Far more of us destroy this planet than help it.

In closing, though, I’m going to say that strapping a bomb to yourself (even if it turns out that it’s a fake bomb) and demanding that a network change its programming lineup is the absolute wrong way to go about this.  You’re coming across as a crazy person, and won’t be taken seriously.  More importantly, you’re endangering lives.  While humanity may be destroying this planet, humanity is also a part of nature and has just as much a right to exist as the forests.  I hope no one gets hurt in this.

Around three years ago, I attended a funeral for a gaming friend of mine.  It was the first time I went to a funeral for someone who wasn’t family, and it was a little bit surreal.  Last month my neighbor, who had been fighting cancer for over a year, passed away.  The funeral was on a day that I had to travel, but I managed to make it to the viewing by myself.  And last Sunday, a friend of mine was murdered in his own home.  He wasn’t a close friend, but it would be an insult to say he was just an acquaintance.  His funeral is this afternoon.  Work has been busy this week, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to get out in time for it, but I want to go.  I think it’s odd that I would want to go to a funeral, when I hate them…

The point of this post, though, isn’t about going to funerals.  It’s about growing up, and accepting death.

Two weeks ago, I woke up in the middle of the night with a dull, squeezing pain in my chest.  I’ve had bad heartburn before, and the first time ever I thought I was dying.  This didn’t feel like that.  I’ve also had a reaction to an antibiotic that caused intermittent chest pains as a more serious side effect.  A side effect that could cause a heart attack.  It felt more like that.  Rather than wake Strutter up to call 911, I decided I’d wait until the morning to see.  I did, however, take my pulse and temperature, both of which were normal.

In the morning, the pains kept coming.  Once every three to five minutes, it felt like my chest was squeezing it on itself, like muscle flexing as hard as it could…  and there’s only one muscle that I know about in the middle of my chest.  So I called 911, right?  No.  I took a shower, got dressed, and went to work.

About three hours into my workday, I started to get a little bit light-headed, and then started feeling short of breath during the occurrences.  Lightheadedness and shortness of breath, combined with chest pains, are a definite sign of a heart attack, so I did what any sane person would do.  I drove myself to an urgent care facility, signed in, and waited a little over an hour to see a nurse practitioner.  Everything checked out fine, and it turned out to be heartburn.  It’s a little embarrassing to say that, but probably not as embarrassing as it would be if it was a real heart attack and I didn’t go get checked out at all.

Spending eighty-nine minutes in a waiting room full of people with colds while you’re experiencing what could possibly be a life-ending event gives one a lot of time to reflect on life, and that’s exactly what I did.  And here’s a brief breakdown of what I thought about:

I decided that my life has actually been a pretty good one, and I would have very few regrets.  My first, and biggest, regret is that I’m not a great son.  I’d venture to say that I’m actually a pretty crappy one.  I don’t buy my parents presents for Christmas, birthdays, or Mother’s/Father’s Day.  I don’t visit or call as often as my mother would like me to.  I tend to call only when I need medical advice, homeowner advice, or money.  The other regrets are petty, really, and small enough for me to accept with a shrug if I’m dying.

I also thought about the aftermath if I happened to die.  I don’t have a will, so no one would really have proof of anything I wanted.  I hope that my life insurance would be more than enough to cover the expenses of death.  (Apparently, it costs a lot to die.  How is that even possible?)  I also hope that the extra money would be enough to make house payments long enough for Strutter to find a new place, and hope that my parents, who are listed as my beneficiaries, would help her out with that.  (I don’t have mortgage insurance.  In my opinion, all insurance is a scam.  In most cases, you pay far more than you get back.)

I also thought about what I’d want for a memorial service, and decided that I don’t want one.  To me, this has always been an odd practice.  To want a memorial service, in my eyes, is vanity.  I don’t want to be remembered.  I want to be forgotten.  I do understand that some people need to see the body, need to have that service, for closure.  So the service is more for them than for the deceased.  (Because, really, what does the deceased care at that point?  No matter what you believe happens after this life, I think everyone can agree that a dead person probably doesn’t have much reason to keep tabs on the living world.)

So, since people will probably need some sort of service,  I decided that I want to be cremated.  (A cemetery is a waste of land.)  I don’t care what happens to my ashes, as long as no one pays a lot for an urn, and no one pays to put that urn in the ground.  You can throw them out the car window on the ride home, honestly.  I want my service to be held on a Friday afternoon, so that my friends and family will have a reason to leave work early and get a headstart on the weekend.  (You’re welcome.)  I don’t want people walking around murmuring to one another between somber hugs.  In fact, no sad people allowed.  Play some upbeat music.  Put out some balloons if you have to.  And once the service is done, get on with your life and enjoy your weekends.  From wherever I am, I won’t be watching.  I’ll be on some great new adventure.

So, anyway, I changed my relationship status from “In a Relationship” to “Engaged” and then posted a status update of “is engaged.  Go me.”  Most of the replies have been a simple congratulations, with the obligatory gay joke (“What’s his name?”) thrown in from Sculley.  But there have been more than a few messages wanting the juicy details of how I did it.  Because, let’s face it, I’m one romantic son of a bitch.  (Sorry, Mom.  Love you.)  While this tale might disappoint in the romance department, maybe it will stop the beeping.

Strutter and I had been talking about marriage for awhile.  So, like a month ago, I finally kidnapped her on a Saturday and drove her to a jewelry store to look at rings.  First, let me say that I’m not a fan of the whole commercialism that drives the wedding process.  Buying a $3,000 ring (Something like 2250 Euros, Len) to make a promise that you’re willing to be in debt for the rest of your life with someone else just seems counter-intuitive to me.  Then dropping $50,000 on a wedding and reception…  well, you get the point.  Anyway, I’ve wandered off-story.

So she tries on a few rings.  We both agreed that the solitaire style was the most appropriate, since we hate all the crushed diamond nonsense and the little sidecar gems.  Then we start looking at wedding bands, for (I assumed) me.  I don’t wear jewelery.  I didn’t really care, as long as it wasn’t flashy.  And then, we get in the truck to drive off and run some errands.

On the drive, Strutter informs me that she doesn’t like any of the rings, because they’re too dainty and they make her hand look weird.  I don’t really say anything, because I assume this is some girl mind-trick.  She then says that she would rather have one of the men’s bands.  Again, I keep relatively quiet.  I may have given a grunt.  Then she adds that she liked the Tungsten Carbide rings better than the precious metal ones, and that she wanted to just get one of those as her engagement and wedding rings.

So, let me summarize what that conversation meant.  She didn’t want a $3,000 ring and then another $500 ring afterward.  She just wanted a single $250 ring to serve as both.  So, of course, I’m expecting a catch, but I just shrug and say as little as possible.

Later, we’re talking about the actual wedding.  She doesn’t want some big service.  In fact, she wants to go to the courthouse and just do it simple.  After all, it seems like a waste of money to have all the bells and whistles.  I’m still relatively quiet, but it’s probably more from shock than from fear of a girl-trick.

So later still, when I’m alone, I try to recap what happened.  She doesn’t want an engagement ring.  She doesn’t want a wedding.  She’s basically saving me the cost of a small house with these decisions.  So I should be ecstatic, right?  Wait!  If she doesn’t want an engagement ring, how am I supposed to get down on one knee and “pop the question” all romantic-like?

Meanwhile, she’s talking to her family about her decisions on the ring, and her great-aunt decides to buy her a ring (not anything expensive, mind you) just so she has something for show.  And I’m talking to my parents to make sure they’re cool with me asking this girl to be their daughter-in-law.  (They are.)

The other night, she comes home from her mom’s house and puts a ring box in my hand and says, “Here.  Do it.”  I have to confess that I panicked.  This isn’t like anything I’ve ever seen in the movies.  I’ve imagined proposing a few times before in my mind, and it was always somewhere nice… like a cabin in the mountains, or a balcony overlooking the city at night… you know, something girly.  So I stammer and hesitate, which makes Strutter start to think that maybe I’m not ready for this.  “Fine!” she says and snatches the ring back and stomps off to the bathroom to put on her pajamas.

So, as romantically as I can muster, I push open the door to the bathroom while she’s looking in the mirror and squeezing blackheads, and I got down on one knee and proposed.

She said yes.

(And now that I’ve outed her about squeezing blackheads, I’ll probably be killed in my sleep.)

The graphics of this game are just awesome.  Playing a God of War title in high-definition is a real treat.  The voice acting is WAY over the top, but it actually fits the game.  In a world where you’re swinging swords attached to chains and ripping heads off of people, bathing yourself in blood, I guess you could say that everything is actually over the top.  And that brings me to the violence.

This series has always featured unadulterated violence, so I expected it.  But they really raised the bar in this title.  If you don’t want to know about certain scenes, stop reading now and skip to the next bold sentence, because I’m about to give two specifics which could spoil your surprise.  Within the first ten minutes of play, you fight, and kill, Poseidon.  While killing a god is nothing new (after all, you killed Ares and Athena earlier in the series), you finish this fight with your bare hands, while the game perspective shifts to first-person from Poseidon’s eyes!  So you get to see what it would be like to be physically beat to death.  It was a little disturbing.  The second most disturbing fight scene in the game is the fight with Helios, where you kill him by ripping his head from his shoulders with your bare hands… and then proceed to use his severed head for the remainder of the game as a lantern.  While it might be a practical use of the sun-god’s head, it just seems to be gratuitous.  There’s also a rather gruesome use of a princess you free from Poseidon’s Palace that I found disturbing.  (And it isn’t even sexual, which surprised me.)

Okay, I’m done spoiling.

Another aspect of the God of War series that’s come to be expected is the sex.  There are a lot of bared breasts bouncing around through the game, but it looked like there was only one actual sex mini-game, which I passed up.  (And I’m rather upset that I didn’t get a trophy for that!)  I’ve always thought this facet of the series caters to a gamer of a different sort.

The story is my favorite aspect of the game, by far.  I’ve always liked the writing in this series, and this final installment in the trilogy does not disappoint.  By the end, Kratos revisits many of the same people he encountered along the way in the first and second games, and he neatly wraps up all loose ends before the final act.  The end of the game was slightly disappointing, but I don’t really think it would’ve been as good to end it any other way.  Be sure to sit through the credits for a small cut-scene at the very end, too.

Once complete, the game unlocks some challenge mini-games as well as the ability to use several godly items you picked up through your play-through of story mode.  (Using the items disables gaining trophies while they’re active, so don’t think you’ll have an easy time of trophy-hunting once you’ve got them.)  I’m not sure that the story is worth playing through a second time.  I already know how it ends, after all.  The mini-games, though, might take me another few days to finish up.

If I could change the game, I’m not sure that I would.  While the violence is extreme, I also think it’s in-character.  Kratos is, after all, really, really pissed off and he has nothing to lose in his quest to avenge the death of his wife and child.  I’d love to see the game have some sort of co-op play (because I’d much rather play with friends than solo) but how would you work that into the story?  So, no, I think I’d leave the game the way it is.

All in all, I think the game was worth the price.  To any fan of the series, I’d say it’s a definite buy.  If violence really doesn’t suit your style, then by all means avoid this game.  If you’re thinking about getting this game for a younger relative, I want to make this very clear:  The game is rated M for a reason. I would not allow a child under 16 to play this game at all.  I wouldn’t want them in the room watching.  In fact, I’d probably save play sessions for when they weren’t in the house, or asleep.

First, there’s Bella.  Whatever this actress’ name is, and I’m not even going to bother looking it up, she can not act.  I’m sorry, but pouting in every scene is not a skill.

Next, there’s Cedric Diggory.  (That’s who he is.  He’ll never be anything else to me.)  He can act, but no matter what he does in this movie, no matter how badass he tries to be, he’s still going to get killed by Voldemort.

Third, there’s the quiet.  There are ENTIRELY too many pauses during dialogue.  Pausing during speech does not equal drama.  It equals irritation.

And lastly…  the story is just crap.  Yeah, I know it was written for teenage girls.  So was Harry Potter, and it’s awesome.

And that’s all I have to say about this waste of two hours.

Law Abiding Citizen was pretty awesome, however, as well as the FX series Archer.  And both of those managed to take my mind off of this terrible attempt at a movie.

Don’t get me wrong, though.  I’m willing to share my food, but only if I know in advance that I’ll be asked to share.  At that point, I’d just order extra food to compensate for the thievery.

Why do I bring this up?  Because I’m hungry all the time now.  I’ve been on a diet for four weeks, and my stomach has not become acclimated to being empty all the time yet.  And because Strutter keeps stealing what little food I’ve bought from the fridge, like a mouse in the night.

Again, don’t think that I’m unwilling to share, or provide for my woman.  Every time I leave for the store, which has been almost every day these past few weeks, I ask, “Do you want me to get you anything?”  When the answer isn’t something wholly un-diet, such as ice cream, cheesecake, or pizza, it’s a definite “No, thank you.”  So I buy for myself, and find her pilfering cheese crumbles from the fridge or croutons from the cabinet later that night.

To add to the mouse analogy, Strutter is completely incapable of opening a cardboard box along the designated “Open Here” perforations.  She always rips a small hole in the side from which to extract her ill-gotten food and drink.  (And I must admit, THIS behavior is cute.)

My point is this:  Just tell me to get you something.

You can download the demo here, which is just a “crippled” version of the full product.  I went ahead and purchased the game a couple of boards into the demo, before I even got to the crippled areas.  That’s how fun it is.

It’s a strategy game, based on the Tower Defense model.  Zombies are invading your yard and certain plants affect certain zombies differently.  But the main game isn’t the only point worth plugging.  It’s also got several mini-games and puzzle games which unlock during play, and those are just as fun.  And, did I mention that it has ZOMBIES in it?  That alone should sell the game to at least one of my friends.

For the price, the game is a must-buy.  At the very least, check out the demo.

My game of choice lately, if you haven’t guessed it, is Star Trek Online.  It’s an MMORPG (Massively-Multiplayer Onling Role-playing Game, and I’ll never spell it out like that ever again) set in the world of, obviously, Star Trek.  It launched last month, and I decided to jump on-board after particpating in the Beta test phase.

Let’s start out with the bad, shall we?

Due to the “unexpected” number of people playing, the servers are a little outmatched.  This is causing lag, disconnects, unexpected downtime for maintenance, and a whole mess of nerdrage on their community forums.  Cryptic (the game’s producer) claims the numbers weren’t expected, but I’m not sure that’s a feasible explanation.  I mean, it’s STAR TREK.  You’ve got an entire population of nerds and creepy geeks chomping at the bit for anything related to Star Trek, right?  Plus, wouldn’t they know how many copies they sold?  I am, however, willing to believe that they didn’t expect the high amount of players, and that they realized they’d be lacking in hardware too late in the process to get new servers up in time.  At least they’ve acknowledged the problem and are putting more infrastructure in place.

The content is not what I actually expected, and lacking.  MMOs, in general, are all about doing the same “Kill x number of bad guys and talk to me when you’re done” mission over and over again.  In Star Trek Online (hereafter referred to as STO) the number seems to be 5.  I’m fine with it, though, because it’s not too many and combat is actually fun for me.  What I expected, though, was “Star Trek” type missions.  In other words, missions with story.  To their credit, they have some attempts at this.  There’s a group of miners that are on strike which you’re asked to go negotiate with.  There’s several missions where you have to run around and scan things and not fight at all.  But it seems a little “unpolished.”  I think, over time, this problem will get resolved.

The Klingon content is awful.  This is my biggest complaint about the game.  They added Klingons as a playable faction late in the game’s development, and it shows.  There’s literally a small handful of missions you can do that are not PvP (player versus player), which means your only viable means of gaining skills is through PvP.  They’ve acknowledged this is a problem, and they’re planning on adding more content for the red side, but there’s no ETA on that.

And that’s it for the bad.  Sure, there are some minor bugs and small features which annoy me, but it’s only been out a month.  With a persistent-world MMO, these problems will certainly get corrected over time.

So what’s the good?

Everything else.  No, really.  I love this game. That’s saying a lot, considering I’ve played most of the other Star Trek single-player games out there, and hated every one them.  The only reason I even tried this one out was because the Beta invite was a perk from my Champions Online account.

Some people complain about the name-dropping, such as meeting the great-grandson of Sulu, seeing the USS Kirk and the USS McCoy, or talking to the daughter of Tom Paris and B’Elanna Torres.  To me, however, that’s the POINT of playing in a Star Trek world.  If I’m playing in a world based on Forgotten Realms (from Dungeons & Dragons) you can bet that I expect to bump into Elminster, Drizzt, and the Seven Sisters.  (Wow, I’m a nerd.)  The name-dropping does not take away from the immersion at all for me.  It adds to it.

The character customization is exactly what I expected from Cryptic.  After City of Heroes (their first MMO), no other character creator could compare.  I expected a vast array of customization, from uniform options to body types to facial structure, and STO delivered.

The rate of advancement through the game is measured.  There are people who will complain that the game is too fast, and that max level is easy to reach in a matter of days.  Those same people say the same thing about every MMO they play, though.  They don’t actually play the game.  They rush it.  They find the fastest path to get the next level and they take it.  For me, games aren’t about what’s at the end, but it’s about the ride that takes you there.

So what’s my verdict?

Buy the game.  If you’re a Star Trek fan, it’s worth playing if only for the free month.  If you’re also an MMO fan, you’ll probably won’t mind the $15/month fee.  And if you do buy it, look me up.  My global handle is @Stuck, and I’m running the fleet named Sirius Business. 

Aside from that, there really isn’t much going on in my life to talk about.  Unless we open the door to that dark place…  you know the place I’m talking about.  (No, not THAT place, Len.  Not quite that dark.)  I’m talking about the Game Room…

I don’t hide the fact that I’m a gamer.  Instead of watching television, I sit down at the computer.  Television has it’s place, of course.  I love watching Chuck, for example.  But mostly, television is just something to do to pass the time.  With a game, at least I get to participate in, if not control, the story.  And I like being in control.  (I promise you we aren’t going there, Len.)

And so, I’ve created a brand new post category on my blog.  Three, actually.  Stuck in the Gameroom, with two subcategories.  One for Video Games, and one for Tabletop games.  So now I can write about things I’m doing, what games I’m playing, how I like or dislike them, and pretty much alienate every reader I have left.  (Except Cap, because I know she likes Fable.  Although I don’t know if she still reads this, what with her being all busy with the job hunt and stuff.)  But at least I’ll be writing again, and I do like writing.

Me: “I know.  I’m sorry.”

Her: “It hurts bad.”

Me: “I think we should make an agreement that, for the duration of our relationship, neither of us complains about being sick.”

Her: “You don’t complain about being sick.”

Me: “Oh?  Then I guess what I meant to say was ‘Shut the hell up!’”

The conversation might not have ended exactly like that, but it did in my mind…