Baby steps.

I'm finally taking drawing seriously. I've been practicing for a while, trying to improve my skill-sets by siphoning knowledge from my art-school friends. It has not been easy, but I don't really wanna remain mediocre forever.

It's gonna take time and effort. And I have both.

Def Poetry - Beau Sia

As I mentioned in my previous post, I had a little experience with Def Poetry during my composition course. While I was attempting to construct my final assignment, I reviewed tonnes of Def Poets in order to emulate their styles and tones. One particular Def Poet I grew fond of was Beau Sia.

Setting his poems to an angry tone mixed with a humorous combination of both frustration and indignation, Sia's poems are clean cut messages presented to the listener in a comical way. I love the way he draws parallels between his examples and meaning, and the way he transitions from one point to another, never losing pace. His style greatly influenced my final paper. Below are a couple of my favourite poems from Sia.

WET

I am Gamer, Hear Me Roar

Video games are not just a hobby for me. They are a passion. But often they are not held the the same esteem as other hobbies. Even Obama thinks they're a waste of time.

I disagree.

Video games are the natural evolution of every form of entertainment media into a composite singularity, an entity of complement, if you will. It connects the visual aspects of the greatest movies, the audio aspects of the greatest songs, and the aesthetic qualities of the greatest works of art, and molds them together through the funnel of interaction that is the user. In other words, video games are a culmination of everything that movies, music and art have tried to achieve, it is the epitome of human immersion in that of human creation.

For my composition course last semester, we were given the extremely unique (and might I add enjoyable) task of creating anything we want with the theme of art, and how it connects to us. We could have written an essay, a story, made a song or movie, or any other thing we could think of. Myself being fond of writing but lacking the motivation to exert myself beyond convenience in the cold winter of Indiana, I decided to write a poem about how video games connect to me, and how the negative preconceptions the industry is facing is commonly ignorant the achievements that are video games. The poem is not like other poems, because it was done it the style of Def Poetry, meaning that it is meant to be performed, and not read. However, I did not tape my performance in class, so the text alone will have to suffice for the purpose of this blog post.

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I Play Video Games
by Leon
My fingers are blistered,
Like broken hearts they each ache,
For much suffering have they gone through,
And much effort did they undertake.

For you see I am an artist,
And video games are my catharsis,
And these blistered fingers tell tales of adventures,
Far beyond the fences,
That surround your imagination.

With these blistered fingers,
I pick up sword and shield,
And bravely wield
Slaying dragons and demons and kings,
And fill my pockets with shiny things,
Earning the kisses of maidens impearled,
And saving the world,
Over and over and over again.

With these blistered fingers,
I go above and beyond the call of duty,
And with grace and beauty,
I aim my gun, For love, for loyalty,
For kingdom and royalty,
For everything even worth fighting for,
I pull the trigger that ends the war,

With these blistered fingers,
I’ve guided countries through wars and disasters,
I’ve been the commander and master,
These hands have defended and attacked and invaded,
And bought and sold and taxed and traded,
And built enough civilizations for me to be able to say that,
I know exactly how fucked up the economy is right now.

With these blistered fingers,
I slide and tackle and dribble and lob,
And cross and pass and steal and rob,
And score enough touchdowns and goals and aces,
To be the best athlete of a hundred different human races.

With these blistered fingers,
I have had countless adventures,
An eternity of lifetimes full of love and song,
Of right and wrong,
Yet there are those who say no!
I’m actually hollow.

They call me hollow,
For like a hologram these experiences are not quite real.
Get a REAL hobby they jeer, like football or beer,
Or at least trying to make sure you get laid once a year.

And with that, anger grips me like a seizure,
What the fuck do you care what I do in my leisure?

They say that idle hands are the Devil’s plaything,
And idle people are those worth hating,
Yet these blistered fingers are solid evidence,
That these two hands have never been residents,
Of the Devil’s Toybox

Apparently, games are the Devil’s tools
Apparently, it makes little children bring guns to school
Apparently, it makes them violent against their friends
Apparently, games are the root of all evil trends.

Apparently.
A-Parent-Ly.
“A” being a prefix meaning ‘in the absence of’,
And “Parent” meaning parent.

In the absence of a parent, games are the devil’s tools
In the absence of a parent, it makes little children bring guns to school
In the absence of a parent, it makes them violent against their friends
In the absence of a parent, games are the root of all evil trends.

But parents are not absent unless they choose to be,
So don’t go blaming society’s ills on a fledgling industry,
Instead look to your kids and fulfill their needs,
And for fucks sake take some goddamn responsibility.

One of my friends once said to me:
“Why don’t you try being a bit more athletic?”
Because when throwing a ball through a hoop I’m pathetic
But I will OWN you in any one game you choose to play,
On the condition we don’t leave the couch all day.

“Lame” I hear them sneer,
And lame rhymes with game, that much is clear,
But any poet know that just because it rhymes,
And goes with the flow, don’t make it true.

And therefore I put it to you:

When the time comes to be a hero,
We’ll see who knows how to kill.

When democracy decides it is our turn,
We’ll see who has the leadership skills,

When the economy grows so large it bursts,
We’ll see who sells more lemonade.

And when success comes knocking at our door,
We’ll see who answers,
And who doesn’t need to,
Because he’s already been made.

And when we all grow up and get a job,
And make a living like all grown men,
We’ll see who comes home from a hard day’s work.
And with blistered fingers,
Saves the world again.

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This poem bumped my grade from an A- to an A. Sweet.

I guess it's time for a ressurection

I know, I know, I'm a fucking retard. My life is dictated by inertia, whenever I come to a complete standstill, only an external force can get me moving again. I lack any internal mechanics to self propel. This blog has been inactive for months, so here I am, attempting to reignite the flame that I once passionately kindled.

To celebrate the reboot of this blog, I present to you my personal take on a reboot to one of my favourite childhood franchises: Doraemon.

Pencils Up!

Challenged myself to see if I could finish this comic in less than half an hour. I won.

There goes your childhood

It's the eve of my last final paper, and I'm psyched as hell. This last two months of 2008 will be very busy indeed. My sister's getting married, my friends have various trips and outings planned, and I have a fuckton of games I wanna buy and play.

I downloaded the Mirror's Edge demo from the PSN the other day, and turns out it's not a half bad game. Okay, it's not only half bad, it's good. Fuck that, it's awesome! I played the demo over and over again, and still couldn't satisfy my lust for first-person Parkour action. This is one game I'm getting on release.

Resistance 2 looks too good to be true. The possibility of over 120 hours of gameplay just blew my mind.

I'm also waiting for my copy of Little Big Planet to arrive. A game where you create your own levels, and can make almost anything? Sold!