it’s in the game

This post has been “commissioned” by a friend. If you like it and fancy challenging me to another topic, write it in the comment box here.

Having owned consoles and PCs for the majority of my life, I have had a large degree of exposure to EA Games. Particularly, as a European, I have played a lot of their football / soccer franchise FIFA. In tribute to this fact, and also the fact that my friend has bet £5.00 that I can’t, here’s 500 words on “Will and FIFA: A life-long obsession”.

The first time a FIFA game came remotely close to a sensible and playable football game was way back in 1996. The European Cup was taking place, Gazza was lobbing Scots, and EA had made FIFA 96, what seemed to be their first real attempt at left to right style football simulation. It wasn’t great by today’s standards, with pointy booted players and slight glitches that allowed you to score from one place in the 18 yard box every single time. But it played well. It started my multiplayer football obsession.

The arrival of University in my life brought along the integration of Pro Evolution Soccer. But even then, Marc and I would find time for a blast on FIFA on his scatty Playstation perched by the TV. We played a lot. What always impressed me was how, every few games, out of nowhere an absolute blinder of a match would pop up. It would all start with some kind of horrendous error, leading to a speculative and extremely long shot that somehow, the keeper then manages to let dribble through his pixelated legs. Cue screams of frustration and celebration at exactly the same time. I don’t even know how to type the sound that occurs in those instances. Its always a blend between NooooArrrrrghhhhh! and Yeeeeeeeeaaaaaaah! respectively. Perhaps you could imagine it as a Nyeeeaaarrrrrrghhhhh!

If you want best results though, emulate it with a friend.

Back to the reflections. Uni came and went, and now, such games can only be relived through the powers of internet connections, for the distance between Manchester and Hampshire is rather vast. Which does of course destroy the manic scream meshing. Not that it stops me screaming anyway. People watching me could probably tape it and youtube it as the next angry gamer video. Tape it. Does anybody still “tape” things? I think I may have just used a term which in the modern world might be defined as archaic. Dammit.

What is it that we “do” now anyway?

Er… I meant what is the word for it nowadays.

C’mon people. Don’t be foul with those minds of yours. God.

There’s only ever one issue with FIFA, and football games in general that really irks me. The commentary. If you’ve played FIFA 09 for any length of time, you’ll notice after you utterly chop and dominate someone, that Andy Gray loves to announce that, though he really enjoyed watching it and felt it a very well executed tackle, he fears that the tackler (who of course by now is running around on the pitch again) has possibly taken on an injury as a result of his timely lunge (sometimes its as a result of not lunging at all – which begs the question how?). He says this a lot. A lot. We’re talking any instance where a tackle has taken place (or not in some instances) then boom – “… I think he might have injured himself with that one”.

Idiot.

If there’s anything that anybody can take away from this post, it is that playing games with your mates is nigh on one of the best things you can do in your living room. Whether your poison is singing, guitar replicating, shooting or playing football, consoles are there for you to completely hammer the crap out of each other in a safe and often most hilarious way.

If there’s one thing my good friend Marc can take from this, its that he can transfer the £5 English that he now owes me for the FIFA post.

…

As a parting gift, here’s an informative video on how to correctly pronounce “EA Sports: It’s in the game”.

there goes 3 more…

Procrastination.

Time wasting. Well, not wasting time, because whatever you’re doing always seems to have some kind of tangible reason behind it: you surf because you don’t want to do the chores / essay write / revise. But it is generally the engaged activity of the mind on anything other than that which it is supposed to be occupied on.

Humans are naturals to this. We do it all the time. It’s probably one of the reasons for human error, for terrible exam results, for car accidents. In fact I think it might be possible to directly link procrastination to most unwelcome events in life. It’s DEFINITELY the reason for all forms of paperwork taking weeks and weeks to process. Those guys in the offices just love to occupy their time with stuff other than your urgently needed passport / visa.

I suppose one way to run through this amicable pastime is to describe some of the many activities that I have developed over the years, and maybe even to share some of the delights that procrastinating has found me.

Some may well have already seen some of these on my Stumbleupon, but I’ll reference these chaps and talk a little about why I’ve listed them.

I just said list and gave myself a flutter of emotion. How I love lists. OK, so…

TOP TEN all time (up until more are found) PROCRASTINATION ACTIVITIES

10. Dogfight 2

Fire! Fire!

An fun filled 2D side scrolling aeroplane shooter, this chap provides hours of entertainment as it seems my Red Baron skills aren’t quite good enough to complete it. The premise is simple, shoot stuff and don’t die. Oh and don’t hit the ground. There’s also another flight based game that plays pretty much the same, except it’s for pacifists. You have to just fly through hoops on that one.

9. College Humor Videos.

Using Stumble video when you are bored is a very exciting and extravagant thing. Oh yes. You saunter through reams of videos that are kind of funny but not really good enough to make you want to re watch. And re watch. And re watch. Until, that moment you stumble into some of the videos posted on College Humor. This site is full of bad stuff, but the stuff I’ve stumbled on has generally been of high value. Take “Drumline meets Revenge of the Nerds” for example. A video display of why college bands can be amazing. They play a six minute homage to all things video games, through the music and clever little formations, my personal favourite moments being the Tetris and Super Mario displays. Utter class.

There’s more here too. This video gives you 4 minutes of interesting optical illusions, explaining them while you scratch your eyes out in disbelief.

8. AndysLife.org

Click the link. Do it. Now do you see?

This site has been up and running for a while now, and with that many games it seems a bit of a cheat to lump them all together. So I won’t. We’re looking specifically here. At one game. Hell of Sand. It’s premise is non existent. You just end up spending hours building vats of different things to then throw napalm all over it and grin inwardly. It just keeps giving.

Andy himself plays the games before he hosts them, and it seems he does alright. Most games here are fun enough for a couple of minutes. But if you don’t want to ween through the prickles to get the golden nuggets, I’d recommend the following: Totem destroyer 2, 99 Bricks, Fantastic Contraption and last but not least… Untangle.

7. Hoshi Saga

Another game, except this one is rather epic. It opens into a 6 x 6 square grid of small challenges, where your only aim is to unlock or find the star. Easy you say? Each challenge is ranked in difficulty and has no relation to its neighbours. It’s only made the list because much like Dogfight, I can’t finish the darn thing. I currently have two levels left. I like the puzzle type logic games that you find, so with this number I’ll throw in a couple of bonus tit bits, in the form of a rubik’s cube esque challenge and a very addictive game called Jelly Blocks, which I had the pleasure of completing about fifteen minutes ago.

…

Ok we are into the frequent fliers now. The rest in the list make constant reappearances on my screen, and probably will do for some time.

6. Wiki Answers

I first found this site when I was conducting some interview research / questionnaire work, and it seemed useful. I then saw it again on the FAIL Blog, with the following image:

How about that for a thesis question?

Cry indeed. For there are many such questions on this site, and the best part is they will never run out. People are asking stupid questions on a constant basis and there’s two ways you can react. You can cry yourself to sleep knowing that there are so many very unfortunate people out there that haven’t been graced with the gift of education, or, you can laugh yourself silly reading fantastic questions such as “What is Hawaii the capital of….Britain?” (Showing that you can ask and answer a question), “When can you skip a word that you don’t know?” (Handily filed under School Subjects and BIRTH CONTROL PILL) and “Coleslaw for 100 people?” (Which really makes you long for the back story).

5.  Stalking Following friends on facebook.

When I first joined facebook way back in 2005, it seemed the perfect way to keep in touch with people. I was abroad and it offered a chance to keep in touch and share photos and events in life with people across the world.

That still stands for some people in my list. But a lot of my time spent on facebook can really be defined as “being nosy”. The news feed crops up with the revelation that someone you know is, unbelievably, doing something somewhere else. You then spend the next few minutes leafing through their profile, photos and mutual friends until you see something or someone who warrants a comment. Repeat until dead from starvation.

Much of the things I liked about facebook have slowly been demoted in prominence after wave upon wave of revamped displays. Nowadays it seems I procrastinate on this site only because it is one place where I can pretty much find and speak to everyone I know under the age of 40. How bad is that?

4. FML

A list of people’s problems, accidents and confusion. A list that never ceases to make me laugh. A list like no other.

To promote this site, I hereby quote the “Top FML”, the sorry story that received the highest number of people completely agreeing that this person’s life sucks:

“Today, I received my passport in the mail. They got my birthdate wrong. Then I picked up my birth certificate that I had sent in with the application. Turns out my parents have been celebrating my birthday on the wrong day for 16 years. FML”

3. Nintendo Wii

Whee!

Now that we’ve all got over the silliness of the name, the Nintendo Wii is actually a lot of fun. Seeing as I have one, it is only fitting that it be mentioned as a procrastination device because, well, it is one. Without a doubt. I’m all about the Wii Fitness regime at the moment, with my pitiful attempts at finishing 20 press ups a real show of manliness and utter humiliation. Angela cannot watch me girate to the Hula Hoop without laughing histerically, and as for the ski jumping…

Suffice to say, if I ever go near a real ski jump, I reckon Team GB will have a new Olympian.

2. Twitter

This is a site that I completely underestimated. After joining on the 18th of March, I have fallen in love with posting 140 character bundles of joy. I’m not sure what I like to do more with this site, the restriction that intensifies the posts, or the fact that I, a lowly commoner, can stalk follow celebrities, and even, if I’m lucky, have direct correspondence with them. Yeah. That IS cool. It wastes so much time, because after you finished checking out the people you wanted to follow, you can click the “everyone” button, and have the tweets of the entire world. Everybody is friends, and you get to see what some dude in Brazil is doing at the same time as some Chinese guy.

1. TV

Lame! Boo! Hiss!

Really. If I think back through my many years of wasting time, there is only one winner. How many times I have sat and watched program after program because it was so much better than the work I had to do. The shows may change, but the medium remained constant.

Shows like Star Trek, Scrubs, Doctor Who, the Simpsons. Heroes, 24, Match of the Day. Desperate Housewives, Eastenders (wife’s choices). Many more that I can’t recall right now. They all play a much appreciated role in my wastage of time. Ooh, and House.

And CSI

My Name Is Earl.

Big Bang Theory.

Stopping now.
…

That all being said, I’ve just spent the last 3 hours writing this. Hmm.

0. What now…

curiosity cat

With the internet connection back up and running at my humble abode, I can recommence the writing that someone knows and loves. What better way to inaugurate my live connection than a request post.

Pets are something that have largely passed me by in life. My earliest memory of such creatures is one of an immortal goldfish. Well, not quite immortal seeing as the thing died, but for a fish that was won at a fair, the lifespan of almost 8 years is pretty incredible. Perhaps my parents switched him over part of the way through in a sneaky conspiracy to make me believe that goldfish live for ages. Not quite sure where the kick is there, but it is a very probable occurance.

Fish have been a staple diet of my pet lifestyle. There has always been some kind of fish hanging about the place. usually loitering in the kitchen. These days, my mother’s fish are quite, quite crazy. The latest death in the fishy world was one that had no tail, one fin and a strange vertical swimming technique. It was in the equal opportunites queue at the fish checkout. This guy was pretty darn retarded. Previous fish not so much. The afore mentioned dead-immortal fish grew, and grew, and grew. It got to be very big. For a goldfish. It wouldn’t challenge godzilla, but I reckon it could definitely intimidate a herring. Probably more so with it’s attitude rather than size though.

I’m rambling.

Best pet memory concerning myself that I can’t remember is one my mother glees to tell people. We used to have a cat. Smithy. He was one mean cat. If cats had a Mafia, he’d be a don. He was the kind of pet that wasn’t really a pet. He was more like an occupying force in the house, currently ruling until the local population could muster a retaliation. And one day, the first stages of rebellion came. An insurgency force, known as young boy, came into the kitchen, with a mind to disrupting the equilibrium. The cat was currently engaged with stapling his authority over the couch, before coming to eat his minion-prepared meal. But lo, as he was entering the kitchen for this meal he was confronted by a blatant attack on his dominance. For young boy was totally munching on down on that food. He was chomping on cat food like there was no tomorrow. Smithy had to address this situation. A tussle ensued, and the young boy retreated to plot another attack at another time, suffering only from minor scratch wounds.

Yes, that young boy was me.

I have no idea why I ate cat food. As far as I can recall, I think it was sheer curiosity. I think somewhere in my train of thought I had seen that i) it was food, and ii) it smelled ok so, iii) why not eat it? It must have been the meatiness that appealled to me. It looked like a gravy covered tasty meaty treat. I had to try it. I mean, it didn’t look terrible. It looked like chunks of stewy meat with jelly and gravy on. Think of the combination. I like the jelly in pork pies (tick). I like stewy meat (tick). I like gravy (tick). It fit the bill as awesome snack. In my head I must have been thinking “Why not munch on that chap? It fits the criteria for interesting and tasty food. The cat likes it, it must be good!“

Suffice to say, my mother thought it hilarious that her child went for the cat’s lunch. She relishes to tell this story, and many more. I don’t particularly mind these embarrassing moments, as long as I’m not naked during them (yes, there are some of those. NO you’re not hearing about them). Ah memories. Rich fun filled photographic moments of joy, pain or otherwise that shape the way you are and become. Magic.

…

Outside of my own home, I have had great friendships with other people’s pets. Cats seem to like to chill with me, or pretend to chill then scratch me (I think Smithy warned the population that I was a rebel. I think there’s a file on me in the feline pentagon). Dogs seem to enjoy the attention more than anything. I tend to find that not having a pet makes me more willing to play about with other people’s pets, to get my fill of pet moments through the short bursts of interaction with them. Plus, it means that I don’t have to toilet train the dogs, or pay for the food. All of the fun none of the frivery. Win win.

Looking to the future, I think there are pets on the cards. They do seem to provide a calming sense of comfort for me. I’m still very much undecided between having a cat or a dog. Cats appeal because there’s less maintainence and they can sit on the couch, whereas dogs (read: big labrador / German shepherd size) provide energy, instant affection and freakishly powerful tail wagging abilities. The decision is out there.

I don’t know when the day of houshold pets will arrive. What I do know is that cat food does not taste half as good as it looks.

celebratory collisions

Writing about crashing parties poses yet another problem for the writer. But I figure there must be some experiences I can relate to, and then render into some kind of tidy over arching statement to reflect upon. So revelations of posting structure aside, let’s dive in.

Personal experiences of crashing parties are somewhat limited. As a spotty bespectacled teenager, the parties I attended were for the largest part, ones that I was invited to. This didn’t detract from the events, all such parties were pretty darn fantastic: being 16, in a safe household setting, limited or no adult supervision, sausage rolls and pork pies blending into the stack upon stack of alcoholic beverages prepared for the occasion. Indeed, most enjoyable (I’m sat here just having a 10 minute regression into my childhood whims). There were so many “events” that helped shape this person into the furry russian creature you see before you. Vomit control, relationship development and negotiation… It all helped contort my mind and personality into its pre-university specifications. Universtiy came, and brought with it (as previously blogged) a wealth of growth in my confidence, which in turn led to the attendance of parties. Some of which could have been “crashed” parties, although for the most part they were never invite only parties in the first place. Crashing parties, I feel, has a swath of definitions. Well, two at least:

crashing parties (phrase)

1. to attend a social gathering or function to which one was not invited to, but was completely aware of.

2. to attend a social gathering or function to which one had no idea about.

Both definitions have clear issues. Let’s explore them a bit. The first can have very interesting consequences, all of which can be affected by many factors. The classic example being the uninvited wedding attendee, who then faces an evening of stares and abuse while they slowly drink enough to provide the obligatory drunken rant that befits their position. They cannot escape this. It is a prerequisite of uninvited drunk people to frustrate and annoy as many people as possible. It also generally raises the pleasure levels of the party tenfold (especially in England) because once the rant / revelry has taken place everyone steps up a gear to ensure that it doesn’t ruin the event for the host. It’s a fabulous way to amp a party up a notch.

Truly, crashing a party you have specifically not been invited to is challenging. It depends on the reason behind it, but in many cases crashing such parties generally never end well for the crashee. By going they open themselves to the fearsome “angry glare” from girls present and the nonchalant “I’m ignoring you” from many others. Although generally there will be someone to talk to, usually this will be because that person has problems of their own, and is looking to share them, and their life story over the two bottles of lambrini that they have managed to procure. Two words: Oh dear.

Crashing a party of which you had no previous idea of poses a very dangerous threat. You are entering a location where you have completely NO idea of what you are walking into. That’s a problem in itself. To further highlight awareness of this problem here’s a list (YAY) of case scenarios that could happen as a result of crashing parties of unknown origin:

A. You notice what seems to be a fancy dress party on your street. With it being October, you figure its an early Haloween party (there’s a red ghost at the window) and dress up like a ninja (hiding facial features for the easy crash). The door is open, so you wander in to the front room to find out just how very wrong you are…

October's AGM Meet. Ooops.

Turns out the Grand Dragon was wearing red that night and now you are in a room full of the Klan, dressed as a black ninja. Hmm. Do you take on the room in a Jackie Chan style rage, hopping around balancing on tables and catching vases? Or do you try to use your ninja stealth to tread silently out. of. the. room…

B. You see a steady stream of people entering a house, where it seems there is also a marquee established in the rear garden. There is music playing, and the party seems to show promise, especially compared to the last crash. You opt away from the fancy dress approach this time, it will attract too much attention. Instead you opt to play to your strengths in conversation and wit in order to grease your entry point (eugh). So you cruise on in. It seems remarkably quiet in the building, so you grab a beer and.. a canapé? Hmm. Odd food taste, and slightly expensive but hey, it’s a PARTAY! You meander on into the marquee to see everyone watching as two people walk toward you. All eyes zone in on you as you realise you’ve walked in on a civil wedding service. Ah. Jackie Chan moves definitely not an option, you scream “THIS ISN’T MILWAUKEE!” and run for your party going life.

Milwaukee! Marquee! They sound the same right?

C. Things have not been going well. Klan members and Wedding goers aside, you think “hey they were freak accidents. It can’t happen again right?”

Yes. You talk to yourself. So what.

You ponder your options and decide that the best way to avoid these situations is to stake your targets out a little longer than previous attempts. So you go cruising in your Pinto, seeing Homies as you pass (little do you know they’d probably kick your lily ass). You spy a party. In a quiet neighbourhood. No marquee. Hmm. Let’s play it safe though. We park up with our Nikon D3X Professional Camera (we’re scoping remember) and look through the window. You see and snap the following. Music (HOW?!). Teens. Alcohol. Dancing. Foodstuffs. Streamers. No, repeat NO adults. Definitely a party. You put the camera down and go to the door handle of your car, just as you notice a car pull up in front of you. Which is flourescent. With blue lights. Looking at you, and your Nikon. Then looking at the party house, where the party has hastily disappeared, and only scantily clad teens (those club get ups eh?) are now visible. Ninja moves? NO. Screaming? Probably not going to help. You settle and adopt the facial expression of someone who after trying so so hard just to have some fun, has realised that the world just hates them. F*** my Life.

Your face looks like this. It's over man. You didn't mean for this. We understand.

So. There you have it. Take these points of advice and learn from them. Crashing parties is bad. Well, crashing Klan meets, Weddings at exactly the wrong moment and being suspected of voyeuristic paedophilia is bad, but you get the point.

elusive pieces

Two days into my new ideas section and I have one request. Laughably, I have had to rely on my own mother to provide something to write about which just shows how lonely this site is. Indeed with it’s meagre average of 5 views a day, it’s hard to expect much else. Embarrassment for the stated fact aside, the idea itself poses a challenge. Having never completed a jigsaw, let alone wonder about their pieces, this topic poses a problem for the writer. So in order to make it that much easier, I am just going to fantasize an answer.

It’s jigsaw pygmies. The average jigsaw pygmy, or “jigmy” as they’re known, can grow to about 5 inches tall. Their habitat usually comprises of either attic or garage like domains, where jigsaw storage provides access to their food stuffs. Indeed the jigmies are very picky creatures when it comes to food. They have a habit of choosing only choice pieces, for example a corner piece or key clue piece (the ones that help you get started). They only have a taste for 1000+ jigsaw pieces, large simple pieces are the equivalent to boiled cabbage. Of course this selective eating style means that as a race, the jigmies are slowly dying out as the supply of corner and key puzzle pieces are eaten. The only way to save this endangered species is for all people to purchase jigsaws of high difficulty, and importantly, store them in an attic or garage. There is no need to play them, the storage will provide them food in their natural habitat, which in turn will prevent them from eating pieces you are currently using. If forced to choose, they are very partial to jigsaws that involve Escher imagery. Don’t ask why. Personally, I think it’s because there’s a higher proportion of edges…

Hope that helped.

In other thoughts of elusive pieces, I started to wonder about other things in life that seem to either lose their track or disappear when least wanted. Keys during moments of tardiness, change (just as you turn the engine off in a car park, when the cashier asks if you have a 20p to make the total), phone numbers written on pieces of paper. They all have that habit of not being available exactly when they are required. Frustrating. So much so that business has been made out of key finders and change purses for many years. This issue isn’t new, but elusive. We will always lose random little things, mainly because at the time of losing them, they are of little importance. It’s the moment that you need them that changes that. In that moment, the location of your key becomes more secretive and secluded than the current headquarters of Al-Qaeda. Osama has nothing on 20ps.

The real blame for all these issues lies within ourselves of course. Due care should be taken to safely house all small items and then the issue of their disappearance will never arise. Not that we’ll learn. An elusive segment of learning is that of learning from other’s mistakes – these small follies are due to be repeated through the generations of time, not because people are ignorant of their elders, but because nobody provides courses on the storage of loose items.

“Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” (George Santayana)

Generally people apply that to year 10 History lessons on the Second World War. But it is applicable to all walks of life. If you keep forgetting that due to inappropiate storage solutions, you lose small items of large importance, then you will be doomed, DOOMED to be forever searching for them.

Other elusive elements in life concern the people of this minor planet who have no determined or definitive career path. Ask most eight year olds what they’d like to be when they are older and they will usually have some sort of dream job that usually is shaped by either their parent’s professions or by interacting with television / literature too much for their own good. Doctors, pilots, soldiers, surgeons, vets. Models, sportsmen, celebrities. It is a fantastic thing when you know which path you want to take. It gives you drive, ambition and pleasure to know that this profession is you. Unequivically you. Unquestionably, it is your career, no other direction even flutters past your thoughts.

Unfortunately, there is a alternate branch of eight year old thinking. Same question, different answer. Or answers. These replies can be condensed into a single word. These children are the “dunno”s. They are all kinds of smart, strong, quick or powerful much like their ambitious counterparts. Except these children don’t know what to do or be. They are searching for that key elusive piece of life. The where and what to do with it. The saddest aspect of all this is that for the majority, they will spend their entire lives searching for it, and NEVER get lucky enough to find it. Pray to your diety of choice that this fate doesn’t become yours, or spend your life proactively searching for it.

The piece may be elusive, but eventually, if you look hard enough, you’ll find it was in the box all along.