Doctor Why Bother?

Next time you find someone bothering you, tell them to “Make like the moon of Poosh, and get lost.” If that's the funniest thing you've ever read, please read on. If not, fire up your NetFlix device of choice, and free up your schedule, because it is of paramount importance that everyone get that joke. That is my life's work right there, my magnum opus. You won't be disappointed.

I am about to talk about Doctor Who. That was the explanation that you were probably hoping for, if the title that I stole from a "Big Bang Theory" joke didn't tip you off. If you haven't watched Doctor Who, you totally should, it's really good, ect. Ect. There's no need to pretend that anyone's doing anything at my suggestion, so we'll just skip that part (Though, seriously, if you do watch it, you should watch the episode “Blink” first. Season 3).

For those of you who are unfamiliar, Doctor Who is the longest running show ever. In actuality, that's a lie, but it's 50 years old, this year. Some of the more clever of you may have noticed that no one was alive back then. Regardless, Doctor Who managed to spring into existence on the BBC as an educational show, or something. Like Sesame Street, but with less realistic special effects. In it, a crotchety old alien called “The Doctor” (Or “Doctor Who”, if you feel like getting mauled by ravenous fanboys) traveled through time and space, teaching kids about history and science, respectively (Because we all know that science doesn't happen on Earth). If you think it sounds lame just because it's for technically a children's show, just know that it's considerably more mature than most children's shows stateside. If nothing else, I can assure you that there is noticeably more implicit prostitution. The Doctor travels throughout time and space in his TARDIS, which stands for Time And Relative Dimension(s) In Space. There's a pretty big debate about the inclusion of that parenthetical “s”, one that I have no desire to get into. The TARDIS is a hyper-advanced piece of Time Lord technology that can teleport to any point in time and space, is “bigger on the inside”, has a chameleon circuit that allows it to take on any disguise, and enjoys biting, because it's like kissing, but there's a winner. However, because the show was conceived before the concept of a budget was invented, and props cost money, the chameleon circuit broke in the first episode, forcing it to take the now famous form of a blue police telephone box.

The secret to the show's longevity is the fact that it's designed to last forever. With only one recurring character, an infinite universe of time and space to explore, and no plot to speak of, the only limitation on the show is its writers' collective ability to fabricate psuedo-scientific jargon. As a special bonus, that one character (The titular Doctor, in case you were wondering) has an in-universe excuse for changing faces, meaning he can be played as many actors as there are quirky British gentlemen willing to play him. But, if there's no plot, then what's the appeal of the show, you might ask (I feel like there should be a question mark somewhere around here, but I'm not sure where). Well, to as a response to your maybe-question I say: “... It's good?” Because I'm evidently really terrible at question marks.

As you may have noticed if you've read this far, I don't really have anything to say about Doctor Who. Reading this is basically like reading a Wikipedia article on Doctor Who, and about as fun, I'd imagine. The reason I'm trying to talk about Doctor Who, despite having nothing to say, is because I'm terrible at blogging. But the more superficial reason is the mid-series premiere (Apparently the British think that's an actual thing) of the 7^th season of Doctor Who (I trust you know what I mean when I say 7^th) is airing tonight, an episode that I will be watching tragically alone, as my brother has decided that hanging out with girls is cooler. (Note to brother and girl in question: Everything I say is a joke. Please don't take anything I say seriously. Actually, that sounds kind of sad, so please don't take that seriously. In fact, please recursively disregard everything I say, from here on out, including this, I guess. Thank you for your cooperation.) Despite my lack of faith in this season so far, I can't help but be excited for new Doctor Who, because if the series is on its deathbed, then I believe it can just up and regenerate into a newer, cooler, David Tennant-er show, because that's how television ought to work. Since Doctor Who is scheduled to go on forever, the Law of Large Numbers suggests that it will eventually be good again. Sticking around until then is just a matter of persistence, and if there's anything that the jury admired me for, it was my persistence (This description of my crime was intentionally left vague.)

Did you see what I did there? This was what I was doing there.

Limiting my ability to talk about Doctor Who is the potential propagation of spoilers, as well as my confusing use of the passive voice. During the eras of previous Doctors David Tennant and “Who cares, he isn't David Tennant”, spoilers wouldn't have really been considered a big deal, because of the whole “no plot” thing discussed earlier. Each episode or two was its own self-contained story about some monster of the week, occasionally hinting at the big confrontation to come in the season finale. This is somewhat different with the 11^th Doctor, Matt Smith, who's had something of an over-arching storyline for his whole tenure as Doctor. I can't really say much of it, but I feel confident in saying that “Silence will fall”, because it's said in his first episode. The particulars of when Silence will fall, where it will fall, and on whom it will fall, while known by me, (I think?) will not be posted here, because... well, I'll just let you hear it straight from the expert:

I actually couldn't find a picture of River looking like she was saying "Spoilers". So gun instead

On the subject of River... well, I can't really say who she it, or what she does without incredible spoilers. And while science says that people actually enjoy stories more if they're spoiled, that's not a risk I'm willing to take, because you can always rewatch a show after it's been spoiled, but you can never unwatch a show that's been spoiled. I'd like to give a humorous example of some TV show that I'd like to unwatch, but I really don't TV, so my hands are tied. If you want to learn more of River, watch the Season 4 episode “Silence in the Library” (No relation to aforementioned Silence), and prepare to have your mind blown. There's also good music in that episode. Man, what a good show...

Anyway, I think my standards are low enough that this will suffice as a blog post. Did you know that “sufficient” and “suffice” almost certainly came from the same root? I'm not entirely sure if I did before autocomplete suggested it to me just now. Isn't life funny sometimes? In fact, I think our every day lives might just be a series of small miracles. No... perhaps they must be.

"Delicious!"

Haha! Oh, man. I'm sure no one got that, but trust me. That was a hilarious thing I just did.  

Martyrdom

I am hoping that this will be a short post. Like, REALLY hoping. As hard as I can. I am hoping so much, Obama just called me up and expressed concern that I might be overdoing it. I am having trouble falling asleep. I guess this means that my attempts to outwit my body were soundly crushed. But all is not lost. At least I can use this time to give you guys a few laughs at my expense. Amn't I just the best ever?

Usually, when I have trouble falling asleep, I blame it on my brother staying up all night talking to his friends, like some kind of big hotshot cool-guy-with-friends. However, my brother is not here tonight, for reasons I am unable to divulge. I can say for certain that he ISN'T killing drifters, if that's what you were assuming. But sleep eludes me still, so it seems that there is no one to blame but myself. Except... except Obama! That's right! I forgot the first rule of whatever the hell, I'm making this up anyway: You can always blame the president. That's what our great nation was founded on.

Double-fun: I have work tomorrow morning, and I have to get up at the inhumane hour of 6:10. IN THE MORNING. As of this typing, it's midnight where I am. It doesn't take a math major to realize that I also used this joke in the last post. Actually, beginning writing this was probably the worst thing I possibly could have done (Besides telling everyone in the world that my kin is commiting felonies). Now, I'll just stay up out of a sense of duty to this blog, rather than get the sleep that I so desperately need. The funny thing is that I've been stupidly tired all day, but now I can't fall asleep now that I need to. As long as we all agree that "funny" now means "worse than getting flinched by an Excadrill Rock Slide". But I'm just kidding. Nothing is worse than Excadrill Rock Slide flinch.

That's a real purty mouth you've got there

You know what's kind of strange? Wookiepedia, the Star Wars Wiki (As well as runner-up in the "Absolute Worst/Best pun ever competition) has more than 100,000 pages. Now, Star Wars has a ridiculously detailed mythology. Especially if you count the Expanded Universe. By the way, if you do that, I hope you get flinched by every Excadrill you face. But still, that's way too many. How do they have that many? The answer is that they have pages for things that aren't even Star Wars. Like Limbs. I'm don't mean to take away from the importance of limbs in Star Wars, or even in life in general. They really get me through when times are tough. But they're so universal that I'm not really sure why they need an article on a Star Wars wiki. Same goes for Minutes. I'm sure that it's just as important to keep track of time long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away, but I think we all know that there are 60 seconds in a minute. Maybe if there were a fictional unit of time, like a rel, it would be worth an article, but this is just ridiculous. Same goes for pages about Trees, Eyes, Photons, and Soul Calibur. I don't know which is more stupid: The fact that that's something that actually happened, or me, for not realizing until now that "Calibur" is misspelled. I think it's also kind of adorable how all the articles use past tense, because it takes place "A long time ago".

Red Squiggles don't lie.

If you're wanting some kind of reason for why I bring this up, prepare to be disappointed. Not because I won't tell you; you'll wish you were so lucky. No, the reason is far sadder than anyone's imagining. My usual DM (Dungeon Master, which is not common knowledge among those with girlfriends it would seem) has set his sights on a Star Wars campaign. I doubt he'll ever read this, so I'll take the opportunity to confess that I have absolutely no faith in him. Yet I'm a sucker for creating characters, so I've been browsing Wookiepedia for details to flesh out my justice-hungry bounty hunter with a grudge against the Jedi Order. You know what they say: The fun is in not knowing.

Also, I'd like to point out that I'm not writing this because I, like, LIKE you or anything. I just don't have anything else to do, and I bet you guys are so pathetic that you don't have anything else to do with your time! I mean seriously, who even reads this stuff? Baka! B-but... I mean... it's not like I mind writing for you. If it's not too much of an inconvenience for you, I guess it's cool.

TSUNDAY TSUNDAY TSUNDAY! AT THE TSUNDERDOME!!

Apologies to the non-weeaboos out there. I feel like I may have done a tsundere bit before, but I don't really have the time to go back through my archives and check. I am just now realizing just how arbitrary and ridiculous a word "weeaboo" is. Heh. Weeaboo. Say it out loud. I promise, you won't regret it. Wii-uh-boo. Good stuff. I basically just wrote this because I thought the "Obama" bit at the beginning was funny, so I'm not sure how to end this. I guess I could apologize to him for telling my dog to "kill the president" in whispered tones on many occasions. I realize that saying such a thing is maybe illegal, at least if internet sketch comedy is to be believed, but I assure the secret service that it was all in jest. If my dog actually did kill you, Mr. Obama, I would be horrified. OK, I admit, at first I would think it kind of cool. I mean, a dog that's an assassin? That is owned by me? That is objectively, unarguably cool, Mr. President. But once I realized that I would probably go to jail, I'd change my mind so quickly it'd be undifferentiable. Since calculus humor is always the best note to end anything on, (Try it next time you're eulogizing!) I'll fare thee well. For now.

Creep Deprivation

A wise man once said that the easiest way to fix something is to break it so hard that it becomes fixed again. Actually, I believe it was said by a most curious man made entirely of grass clippings, who rode through my house on a glitterific unicycle not to long ago. He seemed pretty wise to me, so I've decided to follow his advice. Results so far have been inconclusive, as the police managed to wrestle me away from the drifter that I was trying to pound back to life before my research bore any fruit. Wait, is "I killed a drifter" humor in line with this blog's sensibilities? I have a feeling that corpse mutilations is one of those things that wouldn't make the cut if my mentally faculties were fully intact. Then again, I'd hope that a full intactness of my mental faculties would prevent me from wasting my time in the first place, but whatever.

Anyway, the thing that I'm trying to fix through egregious breaking is my sleep schedule. As hinted at in my previous post, I'm currently engaging in spring break. But through some cruel joke of fate, spring break doesn't last forever. My sleep schedule was immediately and ruthlessly screwed on my very first day of spring break, and it certainly hasn't gotten any better since. I've been going to bed at hours around 5 AM for most of break, and I'm going to have to start waking up at around 8 AM for college. It doesn't take a math major to tell that this is a recipe for bad times (though a culinary arts degree might help). So, in order to outwit my body, I've decided that, instead of falling asleep tonight, I'll just stay up all night, then fall asleep at a reasonable hour the next day. Now that's what I call strategy!

Clearly, trying to be productive during this time would be a fool's errand. I can hardly be productive when I'm firing on all cylinders, (This is just a metaphor. It's not like I actually have cylinders  like I'm some kind of engine, because that would mean I'm a robot, and we all know that's impossible and ridiculous and you should be ashamed for thinking that) so trying to get anything done when I'm mega-tired is laughable at best, and also laughable at worst, because laughable is really the only adjective up to the task of describing this. So, instead, I'm doing this. You know how everything you say is super-hilarious at 5:00 AM? That must mean that it's the perfect time to write for the internet, because we all know that it's because of an increase in quality, rather than a decrease in standards that causes this phenomenon.

So now I have get to the most difficult part of the post: thinking of something to write about. I've already explained my situation, and my content manager is reasonable enough to be asleep right now. There is literally nothing more that I can say about Virtue's Last Reward that isn't a spoiler. I've talked way too goddamned much about Fire Emblem. There's nothing interesting to say about my intricately arranged collection of buzzard scalps. It seems I am at an impasse

Well, my content manager recently convinced me to write a "stream of consciousness"  piece, where I basically just typed out whatever I found in my head. The problem with this is that I can type far faster than I can think, so the process kind of ground to a halt. I deleted it, but I can't say it was too funny, so you're not missing much.

And now here I am, at 5:00 PM, and I'm hardly tired at all. Why, I could probably go days without sleeping! You heard it here first, folks: sleep is just a trick by the government, trying to steal your free time. Every time you fall asleep, President Obama gets a dollar richer, and he uses that dollar to buy the dreams of orphans, which he then messily devours as his nourishment. In fact, I'd say that this lack of sleep is enhancing my reasoning capabilities. There is absolutely no way that I'd be able to pierce this shadowy conspiracy after a morning of being tired and cranky. In fact, I think I'm going to take this opportunity to solve all the world's problems. Buckle up, because it's about to get genius in here.

First of all: A cure for cancer. Easy enough. Criminalize all sexual activity from September 22 to October 22. This will be enforced by highly skilled "sex police". I doubt that I need to further expound on what they do. Any outliers can be handled by a special offspring task force. Kind of like Fahrenheit 451, but with live human infants instead of books. That's kind of messed up.

Or, we could just tell them that The Moon isn't  even a planet.

The energy crisis. Well, if there's anything I've learned from my physics class, it's that to deal maximum damage to your professor's head, you're going to want to throw a large object, buy you're also going to want it to have high velocity, to maximize kinetic energy. But the second most important thing is that everything is relative. Sure, you may be stationary with respect the ground, which means that you have zero kinetic energy. But you could be moving at about 30,000 m/s with respect to the sun. So, if you have a mass of, say, 72 kg, you would have a kinetic energy of about 3*10^10 J, which is about 10 times more than the energy consumption of the average clothes dryer in a single year. Doesn't that make you feel better about energy? You're like 10 clothes dryers hurtling through space!

I can't get a girl. Wait, what? Who let that in the list of problems? One, that isn't even a problem. Logicians the world over have derived many proofs for the statement that if one is of the female sex, that individual may be assumed to be psychologically impaired, a result often shortened to "Bitches be crazy". Two, I very definitely could, but I know of good reasons not to, so I don't. Tired me is a deceptive asshole. Don't listen to him.

Pic Unrelated

Global Warming! That's a big one. We could go with the tried-and-true Futurama method of dumping ice cubes into the water every year, but cubes are a choleric shape by nature, so their affinity for fire may reverse any good that they could potentially do. What this requires is some design thinking. Using metaphors. Let's say for a moment that the earth is like a bowl of soup, despite the fact that that's a simile, and I specifically called for a metaphor. The oceans are the soup, and the continents are the... edges of the bowl? The crackers that you crumble in? The third, funny thing that might be found in soup, thus completing this joke? Perhaps. And what do you do with soup when it's too hot? You blow on it! And why do you blow? Peer pressure! Because it never actually helps, but we all do it anyway, because we saw grown-ups do it when we were young.  Now, skirting right by the crude joke I just made, we can apply this to the earth by making... like... a giant machine that blows? Like a vacuum in reverse. Or one of those Dyson fans that doesn't chop the air, but rather propels a pleasant breeze by the will of the Heart of the Zephyr. That would be a pretty convenient truth, amirite?

Education. Honestly, I have too many actual ideas about education to come up with a suitably ridiculous one. And since I sincerely doubt that many school board members will end up reading this, there's not much reason to include actual ideas. So I guess I'll just have to think something up. Sledgehammer olympics. I'm not quite sure what that means, but I like the sound of it, and I'm sure your elementary school children will think the same, up until they begin participating.

Music. As we all know, music hit its peak when you, the reader, were a teenager. So how do we get back to the good ol' days of music? Just look for music that matches your tastes on Spotify or whatever. It's as simple as that. There is too damn much music out there for you to say that none of it is good. Just because you can't find something doesn't mean that it isn't there. The cops can pretend that the corpse of that drifter isn't out there somewhere out there, but they know, and I know that it is. In this metaphor, the corpse is the music, you're the police, and... the artist is me I mean the murderer. I dunno man, I'm just trying to get some running gags going, because my gags have been rather sluggish of late.

Wow, there sure are a lot of unrelated pics in this article.

Crime, war, ect. How about everyone stops being terrible? Like, for even just a couple days, every human being makes a conscious effort to not be awful to his fellow man. I'd say that I'm more familiar that most with just how terrible the dark side of humanity is, and it's not just because I'm an egotistical jackass. It's also because I literally cannot differentiate between real people and fictional characters. But anyway, consider this a decree, a mandate from on high. I hereby order the human race to just stop being despicable. Did you know that every person you meet, every person you see, every person you hear about, is a fully realized individual, with hopes and dreams, and secrets, and fears, just like you? You know how it sucks when someone is mean to you? Well that exact same thing happens to other people when you're mean to them, regardless of your justification. As the great Raymond Smuckels said "No one should be a cock to a stranger, ever." In fact, I believe this courtesy should be extended to those you know. Is that so terrible?

Oh. Oh dear. It seems that, in my state of fatigue, I've forgotten the first, most important rule of blogging: Give the people what they came for. And preachiness is not what my readers come here for. So I apologize. Without further ado...

THE BEST TIME TO WEAR A STRIPED SWEATER
IS ALL THE TIME
ONE WITH A COLLAR
TURTLENECK
THAT'S THE KIND
BECAUSE WHEN YOU'RE WEARING
That... special... striped... sweater...

There's no need for me to type anything. You're singing it in your head already.

Hooke's Break

Ah, Spring. The season of Easter, Spring cleaning, and... Pilgrims? Mayflowers? You guys get what I'm getting at, I'm sure. And, now that I think about it, spring cleaning may be a reasonable explanation for why I woke up this morning to find my room a bit tidier than I was when I stumbled asleep last night (That's how synonyms work, right?) So I offer a traditional sacrifice to the godliness gremlins, that I may continue to live under their watchful protection. Amen.

I am sure that by now you have surmised two facts from my title: I am currently experiencing spring break, and I am still every bit as clever as I was in my golden days. And, from the way I used "surmised", you may be able to infer that I really don't know what that word means. It's called "reading between the lines, folks".

Only the finest middle-school humor for you, my dear readers

And, now that I've the free time to do... this, I figured I might as well, since I've little else to do. Unfortunately, it seems that the inspiration gnomes did not visit jointly with the godliness gremlins; I have no idea what to write about. But that never stopped me before, so I guess I'mma do this up. And  I guess I'll just do what I always do when I don't know what to do on this blog, which is let my friend (Who is now officially given the position of "Content Manager") tell me what to write about. And, because she has absolutely no consideration for my image in the eyes of my readers, (Although I can't much say that I do either, since I willingly admitted to reading glorified handicapped porn.) I guess I'm going to talk about 5 Centimeters per Second.

Unlike my devastatingly clever title up there, 5 cm/s is not really a physics reference. Yes, it is a measure of velocity, but there's little physics-based about the work itself. The title is derived from the supposed terminal velocity of a falling cherry blossom petal, which should make it crystal clear to you that this is an anime that I've tricked you into reading about for at least a few sentences. I'd prefer not to talk about weaboo things here, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I loathe spoilers, but I feel that it would be cruel of me to not at least administer the following warning: This anime is tragic. If you know me in real life, (and let's be honest, there aren't people just popping in from the aether to check up on some scrub's blog) then you know that I'm not much one for feelings. You'd be forgiven for thinking I didn't even have them. But goddamned if there weren't proto-tears in my eyes, even as I watched in the middle of the Physics room, surrounded by people who would not hesitate at the opportunity to make fun of me if they knew I cared about something.

As for what it's actually about... I guess I could link to the trailer, but that honestly doesn't tell much, except that the animation is really good. Like, I don't know nuthin' 'bout nuthin', but I can tell you for damn sure that that animation is top-tier, especially considering that it's from 2007.

Have you ever seen such a beautiful hallway? Don't you lie to me.

But I didn't come to gush about visuals, or even the music. In fact, I'm not entirely sure why I came here. If you could tell me, it'd be pretty neat. Also, since I'm entirely sure that you watched that trailer, I'll now reference something said in it. It says "At what speed must I live to be able to see you again?" I don't want to spoil a major plot point, but if they just dropped the petals in a vacuum  they could accelerate their lives at 9.8 m/s/s, and then they'd be getting shit done. If by some terrible accident anyone out there actually does watch this on my suggestion, (it's about an hour long, subs over dubs 4lyfe) tell me if you found it similar to "The Great Gatsby". I need to know whether I'm an insightful literary critic, or a just a raving lunatic, and I'm not insightful enough to just look in a mirror and let the torn flesh of my enemies, adorning my face, tell me the answer. But, as always, I am just kidding with you. I got rid of all the mirrors in my house ages ago.

And now that I've said all I care to say about that, it's time to shamelessly plug the next thing on the list. And that would be Bo Burnham. Jesus Christ. If you like everything about this blog, except its inoffensiveness, you should check him out. By his own description, he is "Creative and offensive, like handicapped porn", which I am allowed to say, because there is legal precedent. He is like the evolved form of me, except a twice-evolved form. Like, he's the Charizard to my Charmander, or the archsage to my mage (Because people played Fire Emblem Radiant Dawn, right?). At this point I'd like to take great offense to the fact that spell-check does not recognize "mage" as a word. Honestly, you should check him out whether or not you like my blog, because there's not much similarity between us, except that we both do math, poetry, and be funny. Except he does them all so much harder than I do. But because I'm incapable of suggesting things that don't require warnings, I'll say this: He takes pride in being offensive, and all of his songs are sufficiently edgy that I'm not terribly comfortable linking them. Oh yeah, I forgot: He's a musical comedian, and he does music, and a lot of it is actually pretty great. A lot of it could reasonably be considered "rap", and while that used to be something I'd be ashamed to admit, between him, Mr. B the gentleman rhymer, and Professor Elemental, (whom I may have to preach about some day) I'd say rap is now a good thing again. I'm sure you're all so relieved.

While I'm not comfortable with any of his entire songs (Which can be found on Spotify, if'n you're interested), I can quote specific lines, because that's a hell of a lot easier than trying to make my own funny things. For example, in his song "New Math", he says "What's the opposite of ln(x)? Duraflame, the unnatural log". I assure you, this is quite funny. In another poem/rap, he's talking about Shakespeare, and he says "[Shakespeare] had puns and quips and tons of trips of suns with ships and nuns with hips and buns and lips. But I had something he never had... Penicillin." He then goes on to say that back then they only had "quillicilin", which is great. All these things, and some much funnier ones that I'm too timid to mention, await you. If I had to recommend some songs in particular, it would probably be "Bo Fo' Sho'" and "Oh Bo". Oh yeah, also, he says "Fractions speak louder than words." If you don't think that one of the best puns you've ever, then you're either a terrible person, or you have a cache of unimaginably great puns that you need to share with me.

Well, I think that's about all I've got for today. I don't want this post to get your hopes up. I tactfully avoided mentioning the fact that this is the first post in a couple of weeks, but there's no need to beat around the bush. This in no way guarantees that I'll start being more active over the break, and I almost certainly will lapse back into hiatus one school starts up again. But really, I have no idea what's going to happen, so you should check back every day, just to make sure. It all depends on the whims of my content manager.

Diamond Emblem

As promised in the previous post, here's a fresh batch of letters pertaining to the newest game in the Fire Emblem series, Fire Emblem: Waifu Edition. Read on to learn what that means!

Before I get too much into the nitty-gritty of this game, let me first say that it is great. I haven't finished it yet, (I'd hazard a guess that I'm somewhere around halfway through) but so far I wouldn't hesitate to say that it's my favorite Fire Emblem, and not just because it has the highest Metacritic score. If you have a 3DS, and even a passing interest in tactical RPGs, then I urge you to buy it as soon as you can. In fact, that's an order. Internet court-martial awaits anyone reading this who doesn't buy it. The internet police is on standby. I should also note that, while a good chunk of this post was indeed written before I finished the game, I unsurprisingly got a little carried away, and now indeed have finished. So expect this to take on a rather schizophrenic tone, just in case you did not have the foresight to expect it coming in.

However, before you buy it, you should be warned: This game is hard. On Moh's hardness scale, this game goes all they way up to 11. This game is so hard, I could make an outdated pop culture reference about certain unsavory people wanting to find it. This shit is pretty cray. When they first announced that there would be a “casual mode”, I thought it ridiculous. A mainstay of the Fire Emblem series is that if one of your units falls in battle, they're gone forever, which effectively means that all battles must be won without any casualties. Casual mode disgraced this tradition, allowing players to let their units die willy-nilly, and have them ready for action for the next battle. Now that I've actually played the game, I can see why this option was included. Even with the ability to let a unit fall without crying and restarting, this game could be quite difficult. Perhaps it's my fault for choosing to play in hard mode, but in my defense, the “hard” difficulty is the middle of the three difficulties, making it as much a hard mode as a tall drink from Starbucks is a large drink. If just one person understands where I was going with that comparison, then I'll consider it worth it.

At heart, this game is all about teamwork and companionship. At least, the mechanics are. I haven't finished the story, so it could be about moon monkeys, for all I know. Except I now have finished, and unsurprisingly enough, the power of friendship is quite important. As for the relevance of lunar simians... spoilers. How can mechanics be about teamwork and companionship? Well, the game basically plays like an apology for Radiant Dawn's terrible support system, which did away with support conversations entirely. In Fire Emblem, most characterization for non-vital characters comes from support conversations, which is why all the new characters in Radiant Dawn sucked. Awakening says “Screw that noise”, and makes it so that EVERYONE CAN SUPPORT EVERYONE. This isn't literally true, but it seems that most units are capable of supporting a whole bunch of other units. Marriage is also handled differently in Awakening. As most Fire Emblem vets (experienced players, rather than animal doctors) know, maxed-out supports between units will occasionally manifest as a joined destiny in the part of the credits where it says what happens to each person after the story is done. For opposite gender units, this occasionally results in marriage. In Awakening, any maxed-out support between heterosexual units will culminate in a proposal (barring siblings, as well as cousins, much to the embarrassment of Operation: Incest). As stated before, the number of possible supports is huge, especially in the case of the Avatar, (the player character) who can support any playable unit in the game. And, because the Avatar's gender can be chosen, this means that s/he can marry any of the 30+ units in the game. According to my calculations, The Avatar may have upwards of 300 possible support conversations, a figure so impressive that they made a movie about it. This is made all the more impressive by...

The fact that I am writing a whole two paragraphs about arranging fictional marriages. But the actual reason is the quality of the writing. I've only puppeteered 5 marriages so far, so I don't really have enough data to make generalizations, but all of them were... good? They all had a little story to them, and the proposals were singularly... I'm trying to think of a word that isn't “adorable”, but my extensive knowledge of synonyms is failing me. So, at the risk of having my Y chromosome stricken by the sacred fires of manhood, I will now describe a proposal as “adorable”. Havoc's proposal to Lissa was adorable (Havoc is the name of my Avatar). The only downside to this is the meticulous consideration of gender when deciding which troops to accept or reject, and the fact that I'll likely never have a same-gender support. But I feel that's a small price to pay for the sick glee that comes with holding the love lives of your soldiers in your hands. And now, with the wisdom of age, future-me can clarify that all units can build as much support as they want, as long as they only have one significant other, which means that same-sex support is a-go. I'm sure you're quite relieved.

Further augmenting the support system is the ability to “pair up” units. Essentially, this allows two units to join together to act as one unit. When asked how it works, the most succinct explanation I could come up with was “It's like rescuing, except instead of taking a stat penalty, you get a stat boost.” If that sounds overpowered, then, well, refer to the third paragraph. You need every advantage you can get. When two units are paired up, the primary unit fights as normal, except with some stat boosts, depending on the stats of the supporting unit, and the support level between them. In addition, the supporting unit will occasionally get in a bonus attack during combat, or block incoming attacks. This can lead to amusing circumstances, like your cleric heroically jumping in to defend your general from an incoming arrow. This can also happen when units are just adjacent to each other, but it's probably more likely if they're paired up. This leads to a number of interesting strategic implications, and is also just pretty neat in general.

It's hard to make a judgment on the story, as I haven't finished it, but it seems pretty good so far. Perhaps the best of any Fire Emblem. I'm not sure if Zero Escape has just destroyed my ability to play games without drawing comparisons to it, (it sure has destroyed my ability to play real life without drawing comparisons to it) but the story seems to share some elements that I cannot specify, at the risk of spoilers. But I mentioned it anyway, because screw you. Yeah, you. Not the rest of the readers: just you. You know what you did.

In some ways, Awakening represents Intelligent Systems' attempt to gather all of the good ideas over the history of Fire Emblem into one place. It borrows the overworld and branching evolution system of Sacred Stones, the Skill system of the Radiant Console games, the universe of Shadow Dragon, the breeding system of some Fire Emblem that no one's ever played, the general goodness of Blazing Sword, and the difficulty of every other Fire Emblem combined. The overworld allows players an opportunity to train their weaker units, while discouraging the rampant grinding that inevitably occurred in Sacred Stones. The overworld map also lets the player complete “paralogues”, which are like sidequests, except with a ridiculous word that sounds exactly like something I'd make up. Not even spell-check believes in it. The skill system is complicated, and not very well explained, so I will graciously attempt to make both heads and tails of it here, so that my readers may have an edge over their jealous peers when playing this game. You're welcome. As your units are trained, certain classes gain certain skills at certain levels. Quite certainly. By using a “Second Seal” to reclass units, one can customize their units to possess whatever skills one desires. I think? The game takes place in the same universe that Marth once inhabited, although far enough in the future that everyone from that era is dead and forgotten. Which is a shame, because I'm sure you were all looking forward to a continuation of Shadow Dragon's deep and engaging story. Breeding is an interesting concept that seems rather well-done, but is off-putting for several reasons, not least of which is that I continue to insist on referring to it as “breeding”. When some characters marry, they have children. This leads to the unfortunate implication that your units have resorted to profane and forbidden magicks that they might create life. Or perhaps something even more unclean.

In Path of Radiance, Intelligent Systems made the dubious decision to separate magic and strength into two different stats that each unit had, while in previous games, a magic unit would have a magic stat, and a lesser unit would have a strength stat. This served to completely ruin magic swords, which now used the pathetic magic stat of most swordsmen, and ruin the ability of some mages to hit twice, as the strength stat replaced constitution in determining a unit's capacity to wield heavy tomes. I guess the strength stat also came in handy if you chose for your sage to wield knives, rather than staves, but I'm kind of hoping that the game just blanked your save if you were stupid enough to do that. But in Awakening, this splitting of offensive stats comes in handy, as there are units capable of using both real weapons and real magic. It also removed the weight of weapons, letting you use steel weapons without fear of missing the opportunity for a double hit. This is as awesome as it is dreadfully impractical.

I'm sorry for interrupting this riveting paragraph, but all my posts are written stream-of-consciousness, so it can't be helped. I just learned something so surprising, so amazing, so wonderfully stupid, that I have to type it RIGHT NOW, and I refuse to put it somewhere that makes more sense. Dark Fliers cannot use dark magic. Dark knights cannot use dark magic. Both can use magic, and both have “dark” in their name. Dark knights are a possible evolution of dark mages, yet they can't use dark magic, meaning, as far as I can tell, that your dark mage will immediately forget the forbidden arts as soon as s/he becomes a DARK knight. I have a dark magic tome that is named after a dark flier. But apparently dark fliers can only use dark magic if they're bad guys. To try to comprehend how stupid this is, imagine if Flareon didn't learn Flare Blitz. I think we can all agree that would be unforgivably wrong.

Actually, that kind of turned out to be relevant, as dark knights and dark fliers are the two classes (along with tactician and its evolution) that can use weapons and offensive magic. The problem is that Dark Fliers evolve from Pegasus knights, who are incapable of using magic, and thus have terrible magic stats. The reverse goes for dark knights, who evolve from mages or dark mages, (but not knights, curiously enough) and thus have so little strength that there is no reason to use a sword. The tactician has stats that are pretty well balanced, but that just means that you should use magic, because magic is mo' better. The only way to produce a good mixed sweeper is by breeding one from scratch, but the mechanics involved are even more confusing than those in Pokemon. Are my general and cleric in the same egg group? If I give the mother an everstone, will the offspring retain her nature? What really happens in day-care? All these questions go woefully unanswered.

If you have played Fire Emblem before, and you still aren't convinced that you need to pick up this game, I have 5 words that will fix that problem right up: Anna is a playable unit. That is all.

Because I am too oblivious to realize how sad it is that I apologize all the time, I would like to say I'm sorry that this was more of a review/explanation of Fire Emblem than a post of substantive humor, as is expected of this blog. My excitement over this game has demolished my talents of writing, to be sure, but take heart, for it has marred my other skills as well, and made a lesser man out of me. Indeed, this game has condemned me to a life of poverty, as the damage it has dealt to my scholastic pursuits prove insurmountable, and I will be forced to get one of those jobs that you have to get if you don't have a piece of paper that says good things about you. Probably one outside of the lucrative field of “Having strong opinions about Turn Based Strategy RPGs”.

Oh, and because a gentleman never goes back on his word, I guess I should explain what a “waifu” is. It's a not-actually-Japanese word that means “wife”. It is used by the kind of people who have a real passion for animated women.  

The Inevitable Apology

This post was ordained by fate. From the moment I created this blog, nay, the moment I was born, I have walked an undiverting road to this instant in time. It is a fixed point; there can be no rewriting. For this is the post wherein I apologize for not updating in awhile.

The reasons for the lack of updates are myriad. Of primary concern is Physics lab, specifically how hard it's crushing my spirit. Harder than Battletoads, if you were wondering. I also have other classes that I take, and I may even start caring about them once I start learning things that I don't already know. I've also been accepted for a workstudy position, where I will be doing something at some place for 10 hours a week, and then I'll tell the government that it was work, whether it was or not. But don't tell them that. Pinky promise?

I'm also working on a secret project that may take up some of my time. I can't divulge much information, as I'm still under a NDA, but I'm working as an undercover agent, infiltrating a particular organization for reasons that I do not have the authorization to divulge. Plus, Valentine's Day is coming up, so me and my girlfriend are probably going to... I'm sorry, but I just can't continue that sentence. I'm comfortable with making ridiculous statements and unbelievable implications, but I have to draw the line somewhere. The idea of me having a girlfriend is so farfetched, it's holding a leek right now. And using “me” as a subject? Preposterous.

And, to top it all off, I recently started playing the new Fire Emblem, which, to put it mildly, has been catastrophic to my willingness to do things that aren't playing Fire Emblem. But I sense that to be the subject of a future post, so I'll leave it be for now.

For all of these things, I am deeply sorry. If I had the courtesy to stick to blogging, and dared not cling to the foolish aspirations that I may some day be a real, functioning member of society, then this betrayal of your trust would never have occurred. My hubris must be punished, and it is you, my dear readers, who pay the price. And so you know that my words come from the heart, let me speak the sacred oath, binding my words in blood: I am being so sincere right now.

When writing a paper in English class, teachers often instruct students to “tell them what you're going to tell them, tell them, then tell them what you told them.” And, if you read through this post, you'll see that I've done that. I say that I'm going to apologize, give a couple reasons, then actually apologize. That being the case, what is this paragraph doing here? The one you're reading right now? What purpose could it possibly serve? Well, I guess it could possibly COULD contain some incredible secret that I need to share, like the key to cold fusion, or how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop. But it does not. The closest thing to a purpose is that, if you guys had to wait so long for a post, I'd feel bad if it wasn't at least as long as the meandering rambles I've come to be known for. Because we all know that blogs are measured by their quantity, rather than quality. If it helps to put it as an analogy, (And I hope it does, because I consider myself quite the analogist) then this paragraph is like the part of Wind Waker where you had to salvage the Triforce pieces from the bottom of the ocean. Except Wind Waker ended with one of the most epic final boss battles in the series, and this post doesn't even end with a proper joke.  

A Gentleman's Challenge

I have recently been issued a challenge. The challenger in question is the same person who requested the last article. Apparently she's now in charge of deciding what I do and don't write about. Yeah, I'm just as shocked as you are. Also, she's given me permission to use gender specific pronouns when referring to her, so it's totally on her if internet hooligans reverse engineer this data to kidnap her.

I lack a very particular set of skills

The challenge is to use seven specific words, all in one post. Now, I could easily just make a post that consists solely of those chosen words, but that wouldn't be very sporting, now would it? And if there's one thing I'm always doing, it's sporting, because no one here has more gentlepoints than me. So I am making a game out of this. I will use all seven words in this dubious post, but it is up to you, the reader, to try to guess which words were assigned. Now, you can rationally expect that the chosen words will be awkwardly shoe-horned in, so I will be awkwardly shoe-horning as many words as I can into this post, in an attempt to obfuscate the identity of the chosen words. Because I can't sport all the time.

Now, you may be wondering what it is that I'll actually write about. And the answer is that I have no idea. The purpose of this challenge was to be an enticing offer of a topic, but it's failing pretty badly at that. I mean, I guess that it inspired me to write this, but I'm not terribly happy about it. Hell, I've written two paragraphs so far, and the closest I came to a joke was maybe-threatening to kidnap my friend. So, as with all of my previous posts, if you fail to find this amusing, I implore you to blame someone other than me. I would consider that swell.

So, I'm sure you came here for a very specific reason. You told your computer to navigate to this particular locus of the internet so that it could tell your monitor to emit photons in a pattern that will react with the chemicals in your eyes in such a way that they sends signals that your brain processes as words, which your brain will react to with amusement, leading to the release of some kind of pleasure chemical. Probably dopamine, because that's what we always hold responsible for our pleasure. Now, as you read that monumentally lengthy linguistic construct, you probably noticed that those were all things that were indeed happening. Up until you read about pleasure chemicals. As you may notice, the pleasure centers of your brain are dryer than the 1920's, a joke that would actually make sense if it weren't for speakeasies. They are more parched than a thirsty barber. And for this dreadful lack of amusement, I apologize. On the behalf of my friend. Because it is totally and absolutely her fault.

Well, I can only deprecate myself for so long before it starts to get legitimately sad, so I'll see if I can find something else to talk about. Hmmmm... well, it's said that you should write what you know. And you know what it is that I know? Math. So I will now talk about math. I had hoped that it would never come to this, but my hands are tied. The Godzilla threshold is crossed. Calculus, algebra, trigonometry, geometry, abstract, applied, mathology... I'll talk about all of it. And there's nothing you can do about it. Well, I guess you could just go to one of the innumerable sites on the internet that's more interesting than watching me struggle in imaginary-time (It's the opposite of real-time, you see). So I guess I'll start with mathology, since that's something you've probably never heard of. This is because I made it up, completely independent of the mathology that Stephen Colbert apparently made up. You see, mathology is like mathematics, except it is a science, which means that it involves observation and experimentation. If you think that's stupid, that is because you are smart and right. Mathology is more or less math without all that pesky rigor or practical applications  The first rule of Mathology says that if a formula or equation works for at least 3 cases, then it probably works for all cases. Because all numbers are basically the same, right? Now that I've explained mathology to the best of my ability, I'll try to talk about something else. Any discussion of calculus would probably quickly devolve into me bitching about integration by trig substitution, which I am gruelingly relearning as of this writing. So... um... geometry? I think I found a general case formula that will allow you to quickly calculate the area of any regular polynomial of n sides, with each side having a length of s. The formula is as follows:

Note the use of degrees, rather than radians, indicating that I am no true mathematician.

Ironically, this formula has not been tested by Mathological principles. But if you feel qualified, I'd appreciate it if you could check my work. Furthermore, I've also derived formulas for... wait a second. I've already used the word that I was planning on using, so I can just abandon this train of thought. 

So, now that I can feel my will to write trickling away like an ebbing Tide, (Arm and Hammer is more prone to flowing.) guess I'll... do something? I guess I could explain the joke that I just made, because it's a well known fact that the most valuable jokes are the ones that necessitate explanation. You see, the tide is something that ebbs, but tide can also refer to Tide, which the internet assures me is a laundry detergent. Arm and Hammer is another laundry detergent, and it flows, which is the opposite of ebbing. This is because of comedy. Because this is basically just stream of consciousness now, here's a fun fact: some guy named "Armand Hammer" was apparently a major shareholder in "Arm and Hammer". It's not like he founded the company, so it wasn't named after him. On the other hand, I can find no mention of this on his Wikipedia page, so I am faced with the inconceivable possibility that Cracked.com lied to me. On yet another hand, for some reason, the real Armand Hammer sold alcohol during The Prohibition through some kind of legal loophole. While I would love to end this post with the arrival of that full circle, I still have at least one more word to write, and as the esteemed Hershel Layton always says, "A true gentleman may find himself faced with 99 problems, but he always ensures that a bitch is not among them."

OG: Original Gentleman

Whelp, it looks like I'm going to have to go to my fall-back topic. It seems that I have no other hoptions. That's right kids, it's time to talk about about Zero Escape again, because continually discussing a game whose greatness is mostly derived from shocking twists is a Grade-A idea. In case this is the first post you've read on this blog, I beg you to go back and read something different. I promise, most of my other posts are at least a standard deviation above this one when it comes to the facilitation of chuckles. But also, I'll explain the Zero Escape series. You see, in both games, you're kidnapped by a person in a gas mask who calls himself Zero, and then you have to Escape from wherever it is that he's locked you up. Both games have you playing a Nonary game, which has nine participants. The only way to Escape is to win the game. The two Nonary games have different rules, which I won't talk about because of spoilers I guess? The first game in the series is called Nine Hours, Nine Persons, Nine Doors, and if that isn't the right order for those three things, then I really couldn't care less. Just type "999" into Google. Tell'em Havoc sent you. He'll know what you're talkin' about. It is for the Nintendo DS. The second game is called Zero Escape: Virtue's Last Reward, and is for the 3DS. Or the PSP Vita, if you're a chump, but I have faith in my audience to not be chumps. Since there's nothing I can really say about it that wasn't said in previous posts without giving away too many details, this section amounted to little more than egregious name dropping. Neat.

Now that my fall-back topic is expended, I guess I'll have to fall even further back to... Katawa Shoujo? Haha nope. Not gonna happen. I'd rather that worm come in here and eat you all alive. It would take a miracle more miraculous than a magnet made of rainbows  that looked like its father for me to talk about that again.

What's that bandage doing on that heart? I certainly don't know.

Have I mentioned how much I love the word "conflagration"? It's really one of my favorite words. It basically means "fire", but it sounds radder, badder, and nastier. A "fire" is something that you use to solemnly light a funeral pyre. A "conflagration" is something that use to drunkenly set your ex's house ablaze, then direct towards the constabulary when they start being a bunch of buzzkills. I just thought that it would be a good idea to surreptitiously introduce the word "conflagration" into this post, apropos of nothing.

But what I really brought you here to talk about is Pokemon. Competitive Pokemon battling, to be specific.  If you're wondering how competitive Pokemon battling differs from regular Pokemon, the adjective "competitive" indicates a battle between two human opponents who have their shit together. Level 100 Pokemon, optimized natures and EVs, and teams with coherent purpose are all hallmarks that set a competitive battler apart. Also, switching. To use a football analogy, keeping a Pokemon in when you have a disadvantage is analogous to receiving the ball, then somersaulting across the field saying "Sonic's the name, Speed's my game!". Actually, that analogy works pretty well for any sport. And if you know anything about competitive Pokemon battling, you know Smogon University, the authority in competitive Pokemon Battling. They rule the Pokemon battling metagame the way that Oprah ruled basically everything: They have no official power, but everyone just listens to what they say anyway. They have more street cred than a hippopotamus. Get it? Because they're hip. Anyway, despite the frequency with which I talk about how competitive battling ruined my ability to enjoy Pokemon, it's actually a blast, if you can get the hang of it. If nothing else, I probably have more fun reading about various Pokemon than I do actually battling, because that just results in tears. If somehow even less else, a team of EV trained top-tier Pokemon will surely be more than a match for your unenlightened friends, even if it would get you laughed off of Shoddy Battle. And, in the end, isn't life all about proving yourself better than your peers? I certainly think so. So if you're bored, and thinking of picking up a new skill, why not give Competitive Pokemon Battling a try? It'll probably help you understand what I'm talking about down the road when I inevitably start bitching about some Pokemon or another on this blog.

There are going to be so many new base stats to memorize! I'm so excited, you guys!

And with that, it seems that we're in the home stretch. All words have either been used, or can feasibly be fit into this concluding paragraph. While I'm sure I don't need to tell you this, I feel like I should for legal reasons: Do not try to guess the 7 words. That is stupid, this is stupid, and it's all stupid. But you're not stupid. I don't mean to insult your intelligence, but there's really no way guess which of the 1000+ words here I was assigned. It's like trying to define a triangle when you only have an angle and a side. So just bubble in "D. Not enough information given" with your number 2 pencil, and go to the next question. It's not too late to do something great with your life. Learn a language. Take up an instrument. Learn a computer language. Fall in love. Buy a stamp. Commit arson. Really, just about anything you could do would be a better use of your time. And with that, my dear readers, all the words have been used. The gauntlet was thrown down, so I picked it right back up, and used it to punch some words into submission, Brockway style (This reference assumes that you are intimately familiar with the Cracked Columnists). But I don't want this to be a precedent. I don't want people thinking that they can just challenge me to write with whatever conditions they choose, and I'll happily oblige. They say that artists produce their best work when working under constraints, but this place isn't about good work. It's about practice. We ain't talking about the game. We talkin' 'bout practice, man. We talkin' 'bout practice. You've been a lovely audience. Thank you, goodnight. 

Also, if you read this far hoping to learn about the musical TV special against the Doctor's orders that was promised by the label, then I regret to inform that you've been deceived. I just thought it was funny when Ryan North did it, so it would probably be funny when I did it, right?