8 posts tagged “perso”
Perhaps in a subconscious attempt to one-up Andrea's own jetsetting, I uploaded a number of pictures to Picasa from my trip to Paris three years ago. It's sad that my latent desire to get off this god-forsaken mountain has pushed me so far.
For several reasons, these pictures didn't turn out particularly well. I'm not a particularly skilled or thoughtful photographer anyway, and I don't even remember where I found the camera I was using. After I developed the film, scanned the photos and cropped them, a significant amount of resolution and clarity was lost -- what little there was to begin with. Incidentally, I know I took more (bad) pictures of statues and public art displays, but they've been lost to the ether, it seems.
Technical quality not withstanding, it was nice to see what I was interested in as an 18-year-old kid traipsing through Paris -- family, experiencing urban life for the first time ever, art, museums, dank architecture, the crushing sense of history that Paris evokes etc. And, for the love of God, I'm still fascinated by Foucault's Pendulum.
Also, fuck Flickr for totally nerfing free accounts. While Picasa offers less customization (sets and collections would be wonderful), it's more intuitive and no one is a second-class citizen. Anyway, the rest of the pictures can be found here.
That being said, it's delightful to have someone who knows what they're doing take your picture.
The photo to the left was taken by my editor, Buck, as part of a promotional packet for the admissions department, an attempt to highlight the Domain's extensive hiking trails and miscellaneous outdoors-ery. We hiked from Proctor's Hall to Morgan's Steep, and then about half a mile towards Bridal Veil.
We took about thirty pictures, most of which will probably never see any sort of publication, besides what little necromantic power I can bring into the equation. There are about a dozen of my favorites on my brand new (and likely to be seldom-used) Flickr account.
Quite frankly, Flickr's just an easy way to organize photos quickly and effectively -- it's communal aspects don't particularly appeal to me. Photobucket, while a good place to store individual images, is quite cumbersome with regards to albums or sets of related photos, hence my defection, at least for today.
[Editor's note: One of the best things about blogging is that it lets me and my like-minded narcissicists become the kings and queens of our respective e-domains. Which means that I get to make the rules. And no one can call me vain for posting pictures of myself. As pro-consul of this here blog, I deem that all who think me vain just GTFO right now.
There. That was fun.]
So -- I've never filmed myself before. Let me clarify -- I've never filmed myself before and put it on YouTube. That shit is for crack-addled teenage girls and pretentious boobs. Seriously, nobody gives a shit.
But.
What if someone did give a shit? What if half a dozen someones gave a shit? What if making videos of yourself is an incredibly effective procrastination tool?
One of the good things about the whole Destructoid thing is that, once you're a part of it, you can relate, at least on a few (perhaps perfunctory) levels, to everyone else there. We might not all like robots, or toys, or flannel shirts, but we all like Destructoid enough to have signed up for it and to check out where the mascot came from.
For the record, I didn't plan for the fucking robot to stall out at weird times and interrupt me when I was talking. I also don't know what compelled me to a.) use this take or b.) do this at all, except for the fact that it was more fun than studying.
I like to think that when you break your YouTube cherry, it's acceptable to compulsively watch yourself over and over. But, that might be my raging egocentrism talking.
When I move into somewhere more permanent than a dorm (or even my room at home -- between jetsetting around Europe, school, and various cons, I can't remember the last time I was home for more than 2 weeks) I want to dedicate a huge wall to art, inspired by Lippy's apartment in New Orleans. He framed a bunch of posters / ads / flyers and hung them all on one wall, kind of sporadically, with everything overlapping in various artsy places, like some sort of cubist explosion made manifest. I don't know much about aesthetics, but I know what I like. The problem is that I've never had enough prints to cover a space large enough for full effect.
In any case, the point is that a.) I like posters, even though I can't use them; b.) I'm a hobo, but when I settle down, I have an artistic vision of my interior decor; c.) I like this WiReD poster from NextFest.
Yes, this poster is awesome, a cosmic reflection of its eponymous magazine. Game|Life is consistently good, as is Wired as a whole. While gaming magazines are dying the slow, agonizing death of printed media, Wired is varied enough to keep from stagnating, and offers the really in-depth features that are missing from, say EGM or *shudder* GamePro. If I hadn't just spent so much money at E for All, I would totally throw down on a Wired subscription. But, then again, I'd spend more time trying to get them forwarded throughout the mid-South (and, oh my christ, France) than I would actually reading them.
P.S. My favorite poster that I do have is the one that came included in Sam and Max, season 1 (thank you, Telltale!), which I plan on playing this weekend, assuming I can finish Shadow of the Colossus, and can pull myself away from Phantom Hourglass, Katamari Damacy, Puzzle Quest, and Killer 7. If I had a working camera, I would show you it.
P.S.S. lol @ NextLust
I like troubling my little head over really abstract notions of "providence" and "fate" and "coincidence" and "probability" -- due, in part, to Dr. Conn's "God, Death, and the Meaning of Life" course 2 semesters ago (God, I hate that man) -- and this seems like some sort of cosmic, digitized message that conveys ... absolutely nothing at all. It was just a really sick throw.
[Via Gameroom]
Editor's Note: This in no way signifies my support of Major League Gaming. I'm of the firm disposition that video games are not a sport and shouldn't be treated as such. Also, watching other people play video games is boring as balls. I'd rather have a frontal lobotomy.
I wish I hadn't lost touch with Ben. Although he is significantly younger than I am, he always seemed wise (and cynical) beyond his years. He a drug-soaked L.A. native, I found myself living vicariously through him. Not to mention that he always hooked my backwater ass with the latest and greatest indie pop.
I remember being in Paris, looking over the Seine, drinking 1664 with my dad and feeling absolutely content. I was content to be in France, content to be home soon, content with my adventures in London, and looking forward to PAX with the jittery stomach of school boy waiting in the hall to pass a hastily-scrawled note to his would-be girlfriend.
I was even looking forward to coming back to school.
Intellectually, I know that I don't adjust to change well. I know that the first few weeks will be kind of difficult, as I settle back into school, surrounded by all the stupidity and vapid whores that money can buy. I also know that, despite the fact that the people who made my first two semesters amazing are scattered throughout western Europe and my one true friend from home is 8 hours away, I will eventually make new friends and won't be quite so lonely. At the very least, I'll busy enough to not need them.
It my brain, in my mind, in my frontal lobe, cerebellum, medulla oblongata, cortex -- I know these things to be self-evident and true.
But goddamn if it wasn't hard to pack up and leave my house this morning. In the midst of keeping a stiff upper-lip, my Mom called me, crying. Which, y'know, helped a lot.
In other news, highlights from the 4-hour trip through the mid-southern countryside include --
- A box of ties flying out of the back of the Green Goblin and exploding all over the street. Thankfully, the street was deserted, and I was able to recuperate most of them. Except that silver one. But Jessie gave it to me, and she kind of sucks now. I wasn't distraught to lose it -- it was ugly anyway. I did lose the first tie I ever owned, though. My mom bought it for me before my first 6th grade band concert
- A field full of presumably empty propane tanks painted various shades of green, yellow, blue, and red. An unintentional and Warhols-worthy testament to rural Americana.
- A group of Mennonites playing soccer. Fully clothed, in dark grey dresses and slacks, with those little yamulcas in their hair.
Alas, I've finally succumbed to the whole Web 2.0 thing. I mean, I do the blogging thing, I have Digg and Facebook accounts, and even a thankfully defunct Livejournal.
I had sworn off personal blogging for life, because it always brings out the worst in me. What I mean by that is that I tend to update when I'm upset, or morose, or on my period. I promise I'm a perfectly well-rounded, chipper guy, but that doesn't exactly translate.
Thankfully, the emotional fallout from PAX was enough to keep me more emo over the past two days than I've been since ... high school. And that means voxxxing.
But Orcist, why not just go write in your Livejournal instead of wasting hipster air on this new-fangled Vox?
Well, because my lj is a piece of shit, and I'd rather divorce myself from all that it represents in terms of what a whiny cunt I am. Besides, Vox iw, y'know, cooler. And hipper. And social-networking-er.
So!
You got this far, so here's a picture of a cat.
P.S. <3 .tiff.
P.S.S. I also live in the fattest state in the nation. But I'm not surprised, since we still elect fucking constables. Constables? Seriously? /facepalm
P.S.S.S. I have to include a title? Laym.
