Music You Will Never Own: JJ&E Xtend[r]ed[d]

Last year's Dredd was such a disastrous undeserved box office flop, I have to buy a full-price BD copy. As a nerd who knows his duty, I'd advise every living soul on the planet to do the same, first, because it could redeem itself as a home video hit the same way Batman Begins did, and second, because it's a cool movie.

Think of a gritty, down to earth 2000 AD story, put it in The Raid's Die Hard's one place settings with the toned down, it's-almost-like-today futurism of the X-men movies for budgetary reasons, add a few glimpses of gimmicky 3D to the mix and you've got a nice little action flick with Karl Urban being cooler than anyone in the current cobwebbed Expendables cast. And although I hated Lena Headey as Sarah Connor, judging from this movie, she could easily take on the role of Ellen Ripley, but now I'm really drifting into theoretical off-topic waters here.

It's a shame that Paul Leonard-Morgan's score was mixed so low in most of the scenes, the same way Piranha killed its soundtrack in 2010: I was having a ball listening to the OST album for half a year before I finally got to see the movie (don't judge me for this: I lived in two countries during the last six months, and Dredd wasn't released in neither of them during my stay), and hardly hearing anything from the music I've loved so much was kind of a letdown. It's hard-hitting, kick-ass "John Carpenter meets pre-2000 style NIN" electro-industrial stuff, cool, violent, but melodic, with the just the right amount of tongue-in-cheek attitude, and best of all, it's repetitive as hell, which makes it awesome for workouts.

My favorite track is the almost feelgood "Judge, Jury and Executioner," originally about 2 minutes in length, but here you can listen to a looped to death 5:33 version. (vimeo mirror)

You can also take it with you by clicking here (MP3, 320kbps, 12,6 MB). Do some push-ups or cardio work while playing it, you'll feel like one badass mofo.

Joys and Fears, Forgotten Years

It's early December in 2009, and Chris is walking across Manchester Piccadilly, occupied with puzzling, although not too interesting thoughts. He doesn't notice the Red Cross girl until she's right in front of him, saying or asking something with with a huge grin.

"Sorry?" Chris stops and pulls out his earphones. The music is gone, but the heart of a city like this will always remain a noisy place.

"Why the long face? Come on, where's your Christmas Spirit?" the girl repeats herself, and the words feel what they exactly are: a smart business move. A friendly chatter with this cute little blonde in the middle of a cold grim winter day, and all you have to give is some blood or money in return. And since it's Red Cross and/or Cancer Research UK, you won't feel like a pathetic sob either.

Charity, not mental prostitution. Who could refuse a deal like that?

Soon enough, she is asking about his age. Chris knows it's hard to tell by appearance: he's not a kid now, but he couldn't really be called an adult either. By now he can't help smiling a little, mostly because of the sight of numerous rings all around the girl's lips, and even more of them inside her mouth. Has he finally met his first real-life British punk? A lovely disappointment.

No, he's not twenty-one yet, so they won't have any use of him. And they have a little language barrier here, he explains, so she asks where did he come from, and how's the UK treating him. Chris thinks back of the last few days, the people and events that left the biggest impression on him. Finally, he simply asks if he could hug the girl.

She doesn't refuse, it happens, and they probably both get a little creeped out, but after they say goodbye and part away, Chris can't help to feel a little better about his life. Little accidents like this, outbursts of almost nonexistent, but incredibly powerful manifestations of compassion and empathy can make you believe in angels. Even if they are only angels for their part-time jobs.

* * *

It's early January in 2013, and Chris is walking across Manchester Piccadilly, occupied with puzzling, although not too interesting thoughts. He's in a hurry today, so he tries to avoid eye contact with any of the Red Cross girls out there. A futile attempt.

"Now there's a smile!," cries out one of them, but it's not a sequel, remake or any kind of intentional reference to some 2009 events. She doesn't look like that girl, and Chris probably doesn't look like a kid anymore either, because her first question goes like this: "A little chatter, sir?"

Sorry, I'm kind of busy, is what Chris wants to say as he rushes past her, but the sudden realization freezes his tongue. Did she really mean he was smiling? Does he look happy? Is he even able to look happy?

Once again Chris thinks back of the last few days, the people and events that left the biggest impression on him. He celebrated new year's eve at a friend's place, they were drinking, watching movies, playing games and talking about everything and nothing at the same time. It was like any lazy summer week from their past lives.

He thinks about the many missed opportunities to just hang out like that with people he knows back at home; and he feels the stinging uncertainty pf not knowing when he will be able to do it again with anyone, anywhere. After a few minutes of walking, he decides to blog about something. And he already knows that as a gentle, but clear note to self, the final lines will go like this:

Let it go, man. You can't get back to how and was before. Stop whining, and try to make a future worthy of your past.

pixenomorphy #4

Tonight's gonna hurt.

Just Zeroes and Ones

Before taking a look at my dark and overly dramatic future vision, let's just say that I was a real jerk today.

You see, I'm one of those guys who couldn't live for 5 minutes without music in their ears. We listen to our players at every chance we've got: walking on the street, standing on the bus, at the library, during work, during classes, during breaks, before tests, before physical tests, before, after, and when it's allowed, during a major surgery of... whatever.

Long story short, this addiction of mine (really just like smoking, except I'm killing my ears instead of lungs) uses up probably 2 or 3 earphones every year. My recent little silver Sony friend died today, its right side gently slipping into eternal sleep while we were listening to the soothing voice of Academy Award winner Trent Reznor (screaming "Big time, hard line, bad luck, fist fuck!"). I happened to be at the library at the moment, so turning my two minutes of frustration into a twenty second eBay search, I found a pretty good deal on a pair of new earphones, reasonable price, one bid not too high, about 50 minutes till the auction ends.

I was sitting there like a patient, cold blooded predator waiting for the moment of strike. When the counter reached its final minute mark, only then did I place my own bid - only a few pennies higher than the original -, so the other person had no chance of taking the winning position back. Within a minute, I had the earphones and an amount of amazement at how huge of a jerk I was, and how easy it was to do this to that other user. Only because he didn't feel like another human being, complete with emotions and desires, like I am. He was just a few characters long information on my screen, seemingly nothing to do with real life. Snatching an eBay item didn't feel like a move against someone.

Since this realization I started to fear a possible future of ours; when the Internet gets a much bigger role in our world than simple add-on for business and entertainment. Think about bio-mechanics and other cyberpunk clichés, you know what I'm getting at. The days when our existence, or at least our well-being in the most physical sense will depend solely on a chunk of online information, turning us into an easy cyber-target. To people who have all the means and the bad intentions. To whom we won't be anything more than faceless users, silent characters on their screen, hopelessly bidding for a fair and long life.

No, this is most certainly not a symbolic interpretation of Facebook. Not its present form, anyway.

iseewhatyoudidthere.png

How much will the game cost?

We haven’t finalised pricing details just yet, however, we can confirm that the game will cost less than $20.

What if I told you that Slender: The Arrival, the upcoming sequel to The Eight Pages won't be a free game, but will provide decent gameplay time with an actual story? An actual story that has been co-written by Troy "Jay" Wagner, Joseph "Alex" DeLage and Tim "Bruce Campbell with sideburns" Sutton, the guys behind Marble Hornets.

Things are coming full circle it seems, if only they could get some input from Victor Surge... this is a neat move anyway. Mark me interested.

Here's everything you want to know about the project, embedded below is a cool little short flick, inspired by the original game. Ta-ta.

Briefing: Pacific Rim

The Good

A year before the big guy arrives, we'll get to see Guillermo del Toro's Pacific Rim, Legendary Pictures' other attempt on Americanizing all Japan-o-philes' and Godzilla fans' favorite giant monster sci-fi extravaganza genre, the kaiju eiga. ("Kaiju" means "monster" in Japanese, sometimes written as "daikaiju" for "giant monster", while "eiga" simply means "movie".) A viral video hit the web today, showing deleted scenes from Cloverfield a news report on a creature destroying the Golden Gate bridge (let's mourn it with The Room theme), narrated by a voice eerily similar to the "Would you like to know more?" guy's from Starship Troopers.

The Bad 

While the premise of kaijus attacking different parts of the world around the Pacific Ring of Fire (hence the title) sounds great to me, the plot will mostly focus on the Jaegers (from "jäger", the German word for "hunter"), these huge fighting machines built by mankind to battle the kaijus. Yup, giant robots vs. giant monsters will be our main attraction  Does it sound like a silly Transformers cash-in? Absolutely. But hey, it's a del Toro flick, let's give it a chance.

And the Ugly

According to the viral site Pan Pacific Defense Force, the American Jaeger is called Gipsy Danger, a name that may sound awesomely cool and romantic on the other side of the Atlantic, but will undoubtedly cause awkwardness in some Central-European countries. I don't envy the translators and distributors back home.

Pacific Rim is out on July 12, 2013. Visit here for in-game updates.

Keep On Calling Me

And just like that, I'm back in the UK, for Ian knows how long.

Eh, star-cult too much? Just an in-joke with no harm meant toward Good Ol' Life, Fate, God Or Whatever. I've been listening to a lot of Joy Division lately.

Update, two days later: just found out that Ian and Deborah Curtis actually lived in Chadderton for a few years, only two blocks away from my place. According to Debbie's book, they found it too depressing here. Heh.

After I saw Control (that goddamn powerful biopic on Ian) this summer, I did some reading, and became aware of the Joy Division/New Order story as a whole, but not its details, like this one. Or that they actually recorded some of their stuff (including the An Ideal for Living EP and two tracks from the famous Love Will Tear Us Apart single) up there in Oldham.

Back home I've been an avid listener of their discography all summer long. Coming back here to find out all of these information is the strangest, eeriest kind of culture shock I've ever experienced. I think it's safe to call me a fan.

pixenomorphy #3

Sharkcep Finception! - courtesy of G.I. Bernard/Oxford Scientific Films 

Da Funky Bunkah

Here's something I miss from UK cinemas, the latest "please turn off your phone" spot from Orange, featuring half of the Expendables 2 cast, and James Buckley (one of the actors from the long-running British TV show The Inbetweeners, kind of a celebrity over there), playing their awkward new recruit, "Orange Communications officer" Robert Crumper.

Lionsgate has been really busy taking the video down from every sharing site, so I'm not sure how long this copy will remain watchable. You can try find it on this link, too.

orange spot expendables 2 from Daniel on Vimeo.

All the jokes, especially the movie references with the subtlety of an average Michael Bay action scene - "Call Trench [the name of Arnie's character], we're evacuating! We'll be back for you, Crumpy" - fall magnificently flat. Still, there's something really fun and likable about that geeky kid. Probably just because I'm an egoist and he reminds me of myself and my webdwelling ge-generation. Also, that orange/grey military clothing actually looks kinda cool, unlike the try-hard com/ma/cho/ndo outfits worn by Sly and the others.

They should do a movie about Crumper. In the right hands he could be the John McClane of my generation, with some heavy, but actually entertaining camp value. Get Buckley for the role, and who knows, they might won't even need that boring blue/grey filter from every post-2007 action flick to make him appear young.

Gawd, now I told them real good, didn't I?

Just for the record, I still found The Expendables to be somewhat enjoyable, and you can bet your ass arse I'll be watching the sequel. Can't wait to see ol' Chuck single-handedly cameo-ing everyone out of existence. Or something like that.

Fiend Without a Face

It would make me a hipster to say it's a shame that Slender Man became so mainstream (yup, I hate that phrase too) thanks to that game from a few months ago. Saying that it doesn't bother me at all would make me a liar.

My problem isn't that the thing lost its underground appeal - with an online fakelore myth you can't seriously say that it had anything underground in it anyway. It does feel strange to hear and see people constantly talk about Slendy and using pictures of him as Facebook avatars without being aware of Victor Surge and Something Awful, having seen any of the video serials, ever mentioning Masky, the Operator Symbol or HABIT help us, mutha-wifin' Ron Browz's infamous 20 Dollaz epic, but eventually a growing fanbase isn't a bad thing. Unless you're that kind of sore hipster that I've just turned out to be.

Remember this tagline? He only exists because you think of him. Try not to think of him. Thing is... Slender Man was an awesome and awesomely inspiring phenomenon, inception of things both frightening and/or funny, a lot of video series and ARGs, thousands of in-game and factual blogs, millions of fan art pieces, theories, thoughts, a real modern urban legend of epic proportions. And most people won't know about any of that.

They won't, because he crept his way into spotlight as the 2scary48mins antagonist of a game. That's right, "Slender", as nowadays every other user calls him, has become, and always will be remembered as a simple video game character. And I can't help to feel some kind of loss, or a missed opportunity here. Once a truly frightening, but also insanely fun character of our collective fears, he's now sitting innocently among other conquered monsters of our pop-culture. Nothing new in that. The Cthulhu plush, the vampire Teddy, the facehugger pillow. Slendy never had a chance.

Still, I would never say anything bad about the game. It's clearly a work of an inspired fan, and it is really well-done, a great, totally  free of charge chance to experience about eight minutes of Marble Hornets-style paranoia and jump scares. Give it a try, crap your pants, then muster your courage and give it a few more tries.

And after all is said and done, do more one thing for me, an old-timer pathetic, suit-wearing mythsucker hipster: whether it was in the game or not, remember the very first time Ol' Slendah scared you. This is the least of what we, the fans owe to this legend and the creative minds behind it.

He only exists because you think of him. Think of, and never, ever forget him.