One thing I forgot

I mentioned that I had hung several sketches by my friend Jason. Well, I acquired those when he gave me some old sketchbooks from his early drawing classes that he was going to throw out. I've still got those, and there are a ton of great drawings that I didn't have room to hang. Newsprint doesn't store at all, so I want to give them to anyone who'll have them this weekend. I've even got the spray fixer you need so they won't get charcoal all over your clothes.

And, if you come up Saturday, maybe I'll take you to this coffee shop I discovered last week, which is the weirdest coffee shop I can possibly imagine. First off, it's populated entirely by Christians. Tonight a constant stream of kids has been pouring in, fresh from youth group, every third one with an accoustic guitar it seems. (Or maybe I'm getting them confused with the pack of high school Incubus fans who were singing earlier. Money quote: "So this is my latest song. I wrote it today in geometry class. Because I had nothing else to do." Kid wasn't bad, though.)

Sitting at the table right next to me are six people: the requisite young youth leader with modest facial hair who has way too much energy; his female counterpart, who said one of the kids at her daycare asked her if she was a boy today; two too-hot high school girls; the girl who just blends in; and a girl who looks like a young, miniature version of a softball lesbian, but who is very good at the guitar and has an absolutely beautiful voice. They're all singing songs that remind me of mission trips and HEB Camp and the other haunts of my Oxford UMC days.

And stragely, everyone seems to no everyone else in here. I haven't seen someone get hit on yet, and I've been here at least an hour.

It's all like Spider House, except completely opposite.

Anyways, songs about Jesus' resurrection remind me...


The end of time




I'm sorry to have opened Pandora's Box, but the game looks fantastic. Don't believe me? Then see this great gameplay diary by Scott Sharkey, which Danny pointed me toward:

Right now I'd like to try making some people of my own. That's usually the best part of games like this (or real life for that matter.) Back with the original Sims I probably spent more time creating Sims and setting up goofy domestic situations than I did actually playing the game. It's always fun crafting replicas of Aeris and Sephiroth and letting them raise a family, or taking a pair of opposing presidential candidates and making them share a cramped apartment, or even just making my favorite celebrity, surrounding him or her with lawn flamingos (the single most flammable object in the universe) and forcing them do things with the oven until the inevitable happens.

People who crusade against games like Quake and Grand Theft Auto like to call them Murder Simulators. They could really say the same thing about the Sims, except instead of sniping grandmothers from the roof of a moving car, you make people swim in a pool and then take the ladder away.

You should read the whole thing to get the proper sense of the build-up, but Day 6 is priceless.

And if you think that's funny, take the plunge into the most sophisticated, most cerebral, most obscure brand of video game humor out there: Andore JR. From the post "Mario and Archetypal Psychology":

The story of Super Mario Brothers must be thought of chiefly as the story of Mario, not the story of the player's causation of Mario's actions.

And they will take a lede like that and somehow make it extremely funny, kind of like Kant is funny ... I guess.

Anyways, check out two classics: "ALEXEY PAJITNOV TEACHES DETERMINISM" and "Power Blade Life Lessons 2: Nova The Eschatologist."

Kriston, don't say I never gave you nothing.