Album Review: Utada Hikaru-Ultra Blue

It has recently come to my attention, and subsequently, to my collection, that Utada Hikaru has released a new japanese album: Ultra Blue.

And after the putrid wompa faeces of a spectacle that was her last album [Exodus], I can happily say that Ultra Blue is the masterpiece we were expecting since Deep River.

I shall now do what every music site should partake and review each of the songs in the angelic album individually.

1)This is Love: An electrical trance-ish song with a lot of spirit and the usual J-Pop catchy-ness. 7/10

2)Keep Tryin': An upbeat, almost bubble-gum pop song which tries to get a blend of catchy J-Pop and some of her deeper, slower songs. 5/10

3)BLUE: A true Utada Hikaru classic. It has the ethereal quality of Passion blended with a certain special something that has me put it on repeat on more than one occassion. The best song on the album in my opinion. 10/10

4)Nichiyo no Asa: Another blended song which marries the maturity and pop of Deep River with the immaturity and R&B of Distance. Very good on its own, but compared to some of the evolved tracks on the album, its a decent attempt. 7/10

5)Making Love: The second classic of the album. A very catchy yet seemingly deep song with an entrancing tune and chorus. 10/10

6)Dareka no Negai ga Kanaukoro: A slow, Final Distance-ish ballad. Easy on the ears and a soul-stirring one at that. 8/10

7)COLORS: An old song by the time they included it into this album, but a good one at least. Very reminiscent of some of the songs of Deep River, not surprising since it was released a few months after the classic album. 6/10

8)One Night Magic feat. Yamada Masashi: A very R&B-ish song with some masterful sound effects. Reminiscent of her album- Distance. Very decent. 7/10

9)Kairo: A slow, rousing track consisiting of violins and an almost melancholic ambience. 8/10

10)WINGS: A beautiful, smooth track which almost sounds like it's some kind of anime outro or something. Lots of piano. Very good overall. 8/10

11)Be My Last: An average song that is best heard as the slow version Utada Hikaru sang live a while back. Hearkens to the Exodus 'incident'. Average song overall...but in relation to the rest of the album...meh. 4/10

12)Eclipse (Interlude): Its a non-vocal interlude that perfectly sets the mood of the rest of the album. Very nice. 7/10

13)Passion: Pretty much the single most famous song in this album, mainly for being the theme song to Kingdom Hearts II. A surreal song which seems to transcend the fabrics of time and space as the aurora does in the northern skies. Beautiful. 10/10

Overall thoughts: After the Exodus 'incident' it seems that Utada Hikaru is back in musical shape. This new album clearly shows her evolution as a musician as she grows in age and experience. Each song in the album seems to push the limits of genre-labelling to its limits...some even surpasses it and manages to make a new genre all to itself. An incredible undertaking and one that I personally am glad she managed to nail right. A rousing 9/10.

Note to Utada Hikaru: Get to work on surpassing this! Or marry me...either one will do! [I veto the second one!]

And from the ashes....a phoenix rises!

It has been nigh an eternity since I had last signed in to these accursed elecronic pages. An eternity...and a half for those of you keeping account. Thus I implore the general masses, the ants you are who will kneel before my coming storm, to set aside your seething rage, your crack-addict-like continuous itching, and your gigabytes of porn, and hear me but once more before my crushing hammer fells itself upon your American Idol-ed crests.

For I have returned.

And I do not bring peace. Once again I bring you the cerebral laxatives, the intellectual prunes, that shall cleanse you of your SouthPark-ed minds, your O.C infested cesspools of a GTA infected, spiritual gonorrhea-inducing minds.

I have returned.

And for the next few hours, I shall entome enough Scintillating Thoughts™ to make up for the last three weeks. And you, brainless peons, you shall stop watching Will & Grace long enough to sift through the ensuing madness and remember why I am your master.

I have returned.

Leave the virgin sacrifices at the door, knock twice, and leave.

I hear the drums echoeing in the night......and I want to go stab someone!

Today, in the rare occasion when I had some free time in between plotting world destruction and world domination [I'm confused as of now on which course I shall undertake...but it's good to be prepared], I was flicking through VH1. Now, I love VH1...even more so than MTV, because VH1 shows a lot of classic music while MTV caters to the trailer-park trash that predominantly makes up the American general population.

And I was watching a welcome slew of old Disney movie songs when they started showing 'contemporary' music. Suffice to say, along with the genocide of a million souls, I was forced to turn that infernal box [TV] off. And I started wondering:

Did I fall asleep for ten or fifteen years and all the female singers turned into 'hoes' and the males 'pimps'? I now imagine the stoic confines of Hell's infernal abyss to be overrun with graffiti with words such as 'ghetto 4 life' and 'slap ma hoes in them lo-los'...with Satan himself being belted by a large black woman for making 'eyes' at her 'man'. Crack addicts are a common sight.

I remember...nay, even today, on Classic VH1...I see artists with integrity and talent, doing what they do best. That is, croon their siren-like notes onto the musical ether, and wear decent clothing that emphasizes their natural vocal talents. They do NOT wear clothing that seemed stolen from two-year old prostitutes, with dancing moves which looks like some kind of mating dance for young epileptic giraffes. They do NOT let electronic appliances synthesize their voices in order to sound less like Margaret Thatcher and more like an orgasmic whore. They were an extinct race [at least in the US of good-ole-fashioned A] known as singers.

You 'young' singers can go back to your motel-rooms or street corners or wherever it was you were conceived. We need another Cindy Lauper...not another Ashley Simpson.

And for our male artistes...go back home homie! Do yo boo know you've been hittin' the ho-hos with yo lo-los fo shizzle ma bizzle? And all the white singers who do NOT want to be magically transformed into African-Americans [while keeping their country-club privileges]....you all need to find a nice young, compatible boyfriend. I hear Michael Jackson is hiring older men to sate his appetite now. GO BAHRAIN!

Well....that was a load off my pristine chest. I shall leave you all to your own machinations until my next post. Keep it real chums.

Ciao.

Feel like a molested teddy bear...without the leather and sadomasochistic pleasure.

I have returned.

Yes I know. I have indeed been missing from this little corner of the Internet for some time now. I was merely trying out leaving my house and socialising for once. I liked it. It became the dirty, STD-infected syringe through which the drug of Life flowed into me. But I decided that it still wouldn't stop me from leaving you all with a rant or something like that. Too close for comfort? I know...begin removing the gun from your temples.


*suspend #NAREGO*

Actually, I shall refrain from penning one of my usual rants. I actually don't feel like spreading hate throughout the world at this time. I shall simply write down some random thoughts and feelings in the deepest confines of my being.

1) Dragon Quest VIII is the greatest RPG I have ever had the good fortune to play. In terms of overall enjoyment, no other game comes close!

2) E3 2006 just came and went, and I so want a PS3...if only for the super-sweet MGS4 and FFXIII games. Oh...and the Wii is just too amazing. I want one of those!

3) It seems finding Love in this world is like finding pleasure in the act of being tied up by barbed-wire, and then being fed viciously pungent piles of diarrohea-afflicted humanoid feces through your nose: only those unsuitable to function in normal society seem to be able to.

4) I've listened to more music in the last two weeks than I have in the last decade. Damn you dames and wenches!

5) It's harder to keep friends when you care so much for them. Just tell them to sod off and watch them cling. I swear...

*resume #NAREGO*

It's 2 AM, and this is how I really feel at the moment.

Welcome to this quaintly exquisite corner of the blogosphere puny mortals...for hearken thou ears as....wait...no...something is wrong.

*suspend #NAREGO*

You cant do this to me!! Do you know who I AM?! Death shalt await you through every orifice of
your maggot...infeste...-ody.....

*suspending overly-wordy NARcissistic alter-EGO [NAREGO]*
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Well, hello readers. For the first time, it's me Shampad having a heart to heart chat [at least a very one-sided chat] with you folks. My narcissistic alter-ego has been temporarily put into stasis so that I could actually reveal something about myself and maybe even have a positive post for once. Well...here goes. Wish me luck.

Since the day before yesterday, a fact has been parading itself in front of my eyes and despite my attempts to ignore it...I simply could not. I spent a truly wonderful day with some of my best friends and I am happy to report to all you goths and suicide-contemplaters out there.

There is still hope.

For the last few weeks, I have indeed been feeling a sort of emptyness within me. A craving for something intangible, yet possibly very easily acquired. I just realized that after many years of trying to maybe start anew with new people and experiences, the greatest moments of my life, the greatest people in my life, all lay in the past. And the present. And I damn well will try to keep them around for the future.

That's not saying that my new friends aren't great. They are. They are just as great as the old ones and maybe 2-3 years later, I shall feel the same way about them. But recently, certain relationships took a turn for the wierd, and changes were made without consent or sensitivity towards feelings, and I was feeling trapped. I suppose that's partly like what a doomed marriage feels like.

So I had an epiphany. Let's combine the greats of olde, and the greats of the present, and short of a temporal displacement, great times may yet be had. And I decided to put that plan into action. Let's say that my grand, master plan hasn't come into effect, but I received a sample of my plan not more than 2 days ago.

And good lord was it one of the greatest moments of my life!

Which brings me to my point of the day/week/month/god knows how long. If you have a friend you REALLY feel comfortable around, a friend you can confide your deepest, darkest secrets to and maybe even show your most vulnerable sides: keep him/her/them. They are the greatest people you will probably ever have the privilege of knowing. Maybe they will seem insignificant now, maybe you have a fight with one or more of them, maybe you drifted apart, maybe you just thought the other person(s) changed, or maybe you think you changed too much to be comfortable around them.

Well....dont.

Pick up your phone, go online, do something. For once that window closes, it will never open again, and you will regret it for the rest of your lives. I know that I am lucky for catching that window an inch before it slammed shut on me. And I know that I'm gonna love the next few years of my life if all goes well.

For these aren't the hundreds of 'friends' you surround yourself with. These are the chosen few, the diamonds in the sea of sand and soil, these are for life.

This one is for you guys. I know you know who I am referring to, but I think I'll mention them anyways. Certain readers might be a bit put off by the following names, but I think you'll agree with me that we're not the kind of friends maybe even we would like to be yet.

Thank you Salman, Nahian, Shehzar, Fayad, Aroni, Ariq, Bashneen, Shabnaz, Niyaz.

This one's for you guys.

Ciao.

*resume #NAREGO*

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*pending...please wait*

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----------#NAREGO online


.....you prick.

Link fix to picture post below.

Well...I suppose a few problems were faced when clicking on the totally comatose-inducing link I put up on my last post.

Thus, therefore and hence, I have decided to dote upon you puny mortals by supplying you with another link that is sure to fix any and all problems you might have had with the amazing link below.

The link does not fix broken marriages and or brain disfunction. Regardless of what your mother's sister's husband's barber's second-cousin's best friend's mother's brother's son's nephew's teddy bear Binky says.

P.S-Morons. (You'll get it after clicking on the link)


Ciao.

Greatest Picture of ALL TIME!!11!!one!11!!

OMG!!!!

This picture is t3h r0x0rz i swear!! You guys have GOT to see this...this is totally amazing and shit so go now!!

*edit*-Due to the unprecedented number of hits this blog is getting...that picture might be unavailable for a moment or two. PLease just wait 5-10 minutes to see it.

IT ROCKS! (^_^)

Japan+Famitsu+Japanese Gamer Votes=Top 100 Games of All Time

Well, allow me to awaken from my self-induced slumber of epic proportions from the very recesses of this abominable blogosphere to bring to you, the simple mortal, this list which is sure to molest the very confines of the cerebrums of a million gamers; and give those otaku thingies a wet dream from which they shall never awake...until the next episode of Naruto is released.

I present to thee:

The Top 100 Video Games of All Time-Japanese Version

Because deep down, we all know that that's the only list that matters.

Well, I could simply copy/paste the entire list here and take all the credit for bringing you this list and claim that I acquired the aforementioned list by hiding in the commode of the editor of Famitsu while he had a serious bout of explosive diarrhea....but I refuse to engage in that sort of activity.

So I'll simply direct credit where credit is due: Next Genereration

And I'll just copy/paste the Top 10 on that accursedly delicious list:

1. Final Fantasy X (2001)
2. Final Fantasy VII (1997)
3. Dragon Quest III (1988)
4. Dragon Quest VIII (2004)
5. Machi (1998)
6. Final Fantasy IV (1991)
7. Tactics Ogre (1995)
8. Final Fantasy III (1990)
9. Dragon Quest VII (2000)
10. Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time (1998)

The entire list can be found here.

Well, looks like the winners are Final Fantasy and Dragon Quest [whoever did not expect that, stand up so I may slap you across the face and stuff you back into the pits of Hell, you ignorant, ignorant half-being], appearing multiple times throughout the list [Face it, I'm too lazy to count it for you]. And though bummed about Final Fantasy VII being anywhere except the number 1 position, it's all good.

Look to the skies for my arrival upon your insignificant lives mortals, for when the first sign appears, it shall be too late to repent for thy innattentiveness.

Ciao.

Chuck Norris? HAH! Don't make me laugh.

For the last couple of your earthly units of time you call 'months', I have noticed this strange fad or trend or whatever it is you white ghetto children have managed to popularise on the Internet. This strange popularisation ritual involves escalating a trifle man, as amazing as he is, into a god-like abomination. This man is Chuck Norris. And he is not what you think of him.

This entire concept was founded by Chuck Norris himself in order to sway public affection away from the ruling party and the true god-like beings of our magnificent universe. I have heard inside news that Chuck Norris himself sat at a menacing round table and ordered his 2 hellish minions to go out into the world and spread the fallacies, nay, the propaganda that we are unfortunately the unwilling guinea pigs of. This entire operation is actually to boost Chuck Norris' own morale to get away from the absolute fear that grips him from thinking of the aforementioned true god-like beings: The Ninja.

By orders of the Grand-Master of the UNA [United Ninja Association] him/herself [the Grand Master is always shrouded in darkness] I have been appointed to correct the wrong-doings of this strange hairy beast calling himself Chuck Norris via his own propaganda.

And so, here are the true and yet random facts....of The Ninja:

1)Guns don't kill people. Chuck Norris kills people.

But only Ninjas kill entire civilisations. Hard to believe, but the 'Atlantis Incident' was the cause of the King of Atlantis opening a window.

2)There is no theory of evolution. Just a list of animals Chuck Norris allows to live.

This list was made-up with the permission of The Ninja. Some parts [Numbers 1-56092 of 56093] was actually personally penned by a ninja and given to Chuck Norris to carry out.

3)The chief export of Chuck Norris is pain.

The chief export of The Ninja is death.

4)There is no chin under Chuck Norris' beard. There is only another fist.

No ninja has ever suffered from such a debilitatingly freakish physical abnormality.

5)Chuck Norris has two speeds: Walk, and kill.

Ninjas have four speeds: Walk, Fly, Flip-out, Kill.

6)Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.

Chuck Norris actually waits for the day ninjas will debase themselves enough to flip out and kill him. Thus, a loss of sleep is understandable.

7)The leading causes of death in the United States are: 1)Heart disease 2)Chuck Norris 3) Cancer

Ninjas nowadays mostly leave the art of killing alone, compared to before. One of their tamest killing sprees was later covered up as the bubonic plague in the 16th century in Europe.

8)When the Boogeyman goes to sleep every night, he checks his closet for Chuck Norris.

When Chuck Norris goes to sleep every night, he checks his closet for Ninjas.

9)Chuck Norris doesn't read books. He stares them down until he gets the information he wants.

Ninjas teach books the information they contain.

10)Chuck Norris has counted to infinity - twice.

Ninjas discovered the numbers after infinity. They are said to explode the minds of anyone non-Ninja.

11) When you see Chuck Norris and then you don't see Chuck Norris, you have at most 3 seconds to live.

You never see the Ninja preparing to kill you. And you have no amount of time to live.

12)Chuck Norris' first job was as a paperboy. There were no survivors.

Except for Chuck Norris himself. The entire world was destroyed when a low-level Ninja flipped out due to Chuck Norris' audacity. We call that the Dinosaur Extinction.

13)If Chuck Norris found out about this site....he would delete the Internet.

The only reason he hasn't, is because Ninjas own the Internet.

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Now, I am aware that a larger amount of such shameless propaganda are defecating on the Internet, but I can only do so much. I know I have been successful in opening your eyes to the extreme act of self morale boosting that flaccid Norris is masterminding. May The Ninja forgive his soul.

Ciao.

<3 Happy Valentines Day <3........

.....you utter morons.

Now, far be it for me to return to the blogosphere after such a lengthy absence and open with a rant against one of the most beloved days in the current slump of human culture, but...here we are.

I have been looking at the news and the general unsuspecting populace, and the sights and sounds being laid bare before my startlingly glorious visage is mortifying. People from all walks of life are going around celebrating Valentines Day...like its some kind of holiday!

Now call me old-fashioned and a hopeless romantic, but am I the only one who finds something wrong with devoting an entire day to 'Love'? This may sound the indescribably cringe-worthy cliche...but cannot everyday be a day to celebrate love? Why do we need a special day, just so we may be rudely reminded at every television channel and gift/greeting card shop that 'Go beat your wife/girlfriend/significant other some other day. Today, go home with a bouquet of flowers and one of our official licensed cards and wallow in the glorious light of love. Then tomorrow you can go beat that little shit!'

I mean, there are people hungry and dying and those that have not felt the warmth of love all their lives simply because they were born in a poor household, and we feel it necessary to shell out hundreds if not thousands of units of our [apparently] useless cash on cards with a big teddy bear with a heart shaped chest! Oh, and don't forget the boxed candy and ridiculously overpriced stuffed toy. You know that your girlfriend will leave your sorry ass for your best friend's father's cousin's dad if you don't give her a 'Hallmark Valentines'. Right?

For a few seconds of this 'love'ly day, stop and think about what you're doing. You are giving away your hard-earned/stolen/received cash on something that you don't even need. You are, in actuality, doing what multi-national conglomerates like Hallmark and Archie's [last time I checked...that was a comic book you 'tards] wants you to do. That is, pay them.

Valentines Day is the second-most commercialized event in human history, second only to the materialistic event that was once known as Christmas. The history behind Valentines Day is long and I'd rather not get into it, but let's just say that some poor Saint or something got screwed over. At least the greeting card companies are enjoying raping that poor man's special day to reach the end of their own nefarious plans...possibly to control humankind in some post-1984 kind of way.

Now that I have opened your eyes and minds to the copious amounts of excretion that had previously taken up a substantial...no, make that gargantuan portion of your seemingly love-struck minds, take my much needed advice: Today, go home just as usual and instead of beating your significant other for his/her trifle failings, give her/him a kiss. And tell him/her/them/it that you love her/them/him/it. And then tomorrow, at least once before and at least once after work or school or whatever it is that you waste time on in-between reading my blog, repeat the previous step. And continue that for the rest of your natural lives.

I promise that your divorce papers* will mysteriously disappear.

Ciao.

*Restraining orders may or may not be filed against you either. It all depends on a)Whether you are on good terms with your significant other, b)Whether or not your significant other knows your existance beyond the obscene phone calls and scary letters left at the foot of her bed...on the 27th floor.

Short Story: Sengoku-Hokori aru Haiboku

Well...here is a little something about me you people do not know...not that you know a lot about me anyways. In my spare time [and when I feel like it] I write short stories for this little special magazine that is published once a week in the local newspaper...the magazine is known as Rising Stars.

And most [ok...all] of the time...they print the nuggets of intellectual gold that I so skillfully grace the literary world with.

Except this time...those pedantic bastards.

Apparently...my story is too big and other such irrelevant issues not worth spewing forth like an inept cow. Thus, I decided that maybe it was time to let my dear reader(s) [tell me if there are more than one of you at a time] in on my strikingly godlike hobby.

Also...the Rising Stars version was supposed to contain a small foreword/preface that bore certain historical facts that a certain being of literary ineptitude and lack of integrity failed to stay true to in his/her 'historical' piece. I decided that robbing the person of his/her self-esteem and confidence [they're the same aren't they? oh well...] is not worth my precious time.

So if that person is reading this...try not to be too anal and offensive in your hate-comment. I can't help it if I have to mention the person who took what I started and attempted to engage in reputation-rape with his/her bird-brained scribblings. And try to use your real name...I so tire of anonymous people hating my guts...I deal with enough in the real world.

Oh, and before I forget...this story is actually the third part of an ongoing series I am writing. All the historical facts are, in fact, accurate. Except of course, the two main characters and the descriptions of the battle and battle-tactics. All figures and battle outcomes, including the leaders of each side are accurate. Please let me know if I have still made a mistake in the historical facts somewhere [unlikely].

Sengoku:
Hokori Aru Haiboku
By-Shampad Mutakabbir Rahmatullah

Prologue

Shimazu Ujitsuna’s feet were burning now. His eyes were growing heavy in tandem to every beat of his heart he felt banging at his eardrums. His spear was growing heavier in his firm grasp with each step he took. Wearily, he looked around and saw not only his platoon, but every other soldier around him as weary as him. Those not trained as he was were worse off; and seemed to be faltering as if wounded. Even the soldiers on horseback looked ready to call in a day, and they were supposed to keep up the morale of the rest of the soldiers, especially as Takeda daimyo (Japanese feudal lord) himself rode among them. It had been merely a few hours since they had last eaten and the journey caused images of the next mealtime to be many of the soldiers’ only motivation for walking. Even Shimazu himself felt hungry, even though he had trained under sterner conditions than most of the men there. But, as Shimazu himself knew, his duty came first. He would show his worth to Takeda daimyo and be strong and vigilant for both his lord and his men. Of the 28,000 men, Shimazu Ujitsuna would show them strength, if no one else would.

Otomo Yoshitsune rode out of Hamamatsu with his comrades, and allies he had met only hours ago. He and several other senior officers had received the orders in more detail than the rest of their lesser comrades in arms and so, fostered a deeper understanding of the events to transpire in a few hours. It would seem that the feared Takeda Shingen himself would lead an army to take over Hamamatsu, Tokugawa Ieyasu’s headquarters. Thus, to stop the Takeda domination of Tôtômi; Otomo’s lord; Oda Nobunaga sent 3,000 of his troops to aid his ally. Thus, under the lead of Tokugawa Ieyasu himself, Otomo and his companions rode out to the Mikata Plain to suppress the attacking army. Spear held unyielding, Otomo rode on as his mind wrapped itself around the cold edges of doubt.

Chapter-1

Shimazu was among the first of the soldiers to feel a distinct rumbling beneath their feet. Though he was not at the front of the lines, he could only guess that the ominous grumbling from Earth’s crust would not yield good tidings. A general on horseback rode out ahead, peered into the expansive landscape, and gave the order to stop marching. All the men and horses halted as one and Shimazu could now see the reason. Stretched out in front of them was an army ready to give battle. No, Shimazu thought. It was the enemy, ready to take away their lives and honor. His weariness leaving him, Shimazu stood at attention with his spear at the ready, prepared to rush forward at the instance of Lord Takeda's command.

His heart was again beating, despite the stoppage and subsequent activity of marching across entire territories. He realized that it was beating not due to any physical activity on his part, but because of the promise of battle stretched out across him. He had indeed been in battles before, but never one which was led by two Lords of such distinction. Never with honour at such precarious stake. As he continued to peer into the large army before him, his thoughts went to his platoon, standing beside him hoping that they would do as well as their superiors. So many of them were new, just as Shimazu himself was about a year ago in the battle to capture Iwamura. He got to know most of them and he prayed that they would come out of this battle in one piece. He could hear his superiors talking about strategies, but he was too far away and his superiors were too quiet for Shimazu to properly hear them.

In a few minutes, Shimazu took a deep breath as his Lord and his generals rode off to the centre of the battlefield. He could make out a few horsemen from the other side do the same as the leaders of the two factions began negotiations. There were quiet muttering throughout the battalions as friends discussed what they were probably saying and what they would do if the worse should happen. It took little more than a few minutes until the whole army inhaled as one, for Lord Takeda and his generals rode back. They listened as the generals gave them their orders. Some listened in horror, some with courage and bloodlust, and even more with quiet submission as they understood what was expected of them.

Shimazu Ujitsuna gave his armour a quick check and firmly gripped his spear as so many others were doing. The time for talk was over; the fate of this encounter would be decided not by pretty words or clever diplomacy, but by their skill, their resolve, and their blades. An order was given, and the archers moved into position, as did the cavalry. Finally, the awaited order was given, and the soldiers started their descent into the closest thing to Hell on Earth. They moved, as one, towards battle. Shimazu licked his lips in enthusiasm.

Chapter-2

Otomo sat mounted, peering coldly at the vast soldiers across the battlefield. It seemed to him that the enemy had the advantage in numbers. For a moment he thought he heard a distant rumbling, he only had to look down to see the cause of the sound. It was his own heart, beating in a manner that he had not felt before. He felt no fear but it was as if his very soul felt the icy gyrations of Death and was relaying him the information by the crescendo of sound his heart seemed to beat in his ears. He turned around slowly and joined in the discussion with the rest of the generals and Tokugawa Ieyasu. They decided to start negotiations with the enemy; maybe they could stop the battle before any lives were lost. Otomo, Tokugawa Ieyasu and two more generals rode off towards the centre of the field.

Otomo sat on his horse silently, concentrating on the matters at hand. The enemy generals, led by Takeda Shingen, demanded that Ieyasu's forces move aside and surrender to the might of Takeda. But Ieyasu was adamant, even faced with such odds; he was unyielding and demanded that Takeda's forces back down. The negotiations were not going as well as Otomo hoped. In just a few more minutes, the two daimyo exchanged goodbyes and were riding furiously towards their armies. Blood would be spilled on this land in mere moments. And unless Ieyasu's men fought hard, they would be over-run.

Being a general, it was Otomo's responsibility to confer with the generals and arrange the soldiers according to their strategies. But in such a textbook encounter, there was no other effective strategy but the text-book one. Tokugawa Ieyasu's men were outnumbered anyways, nothing but skill and perseverance would win this battle. Tokugawa and his generals ordered an assault with the more-experienced Oda troops up front to break the Takeda forward positions. This would leave the Tokugawa troops to handle the rest of the grand army displayed in front of them.

Otomo Yoshitsune sat on his mount and gazed into the peering eyes in front of him. He was not only a general, but an Oda general, and so the duty to lead some of the Oda troops fell to him. His wisdom knew that their mission was the hardest one of all the 14,000 soldiers assembled here. Their rash march into battle would be more akin to marching into the waiting hands of Izanami (the goddess of death according to Shinto belief). But he was not afraid; his duty to his master Oda Nobunaga surpassed all other human emotion.

He readied his spear and awaited Tokugawa Ieyasu's order; he noticed that the Takeda armies had already begun to move towards them. At last, the order from Tokugawa was given, and Otomo and his men marched onwards to meet their hateful invaders.

Chapter-3

Shimazu Ujitsuna marched onwards, the sight of his advancing enemy being the only motivation for him to keep going. He could feel his heart thumping deep in his chest, acting as a metronome to his footsteps, but even that was drowned out by the earth-shattering rumble of his own comrades and his enemies starting to sprint. Spear held at the ready, he took sight of the first person he would engage, his eyes focused into a tunnel-vision as he blocked out all other sensory perceptions. It was only a few seconds, but for a brief instance that seemed as if hours, he recalled his training under Hashiba Minamoto. It was strange, but remembering those moments helped him calm down in the heat of battle. He subconsciously looked down at his katana, his master had given it to him to inaugurate his being part of Takeda daimyo's clan.

He could hear the odd Takeda gun firing from behind their position, and he noticed some soldiers from the enemy's front lines fall. He was almost taken by surprise as the sound of a tremendous war cry erupted from the other side. He could make out the hail of arrows from both sides flying towards the centre of the intrepid battleground; he braced himself for impact as a mist of blood sprayed out the wounds of men from both sides. Finally, Shimazu drew breath, the calm before the storm had approached, he saw the next five seconds as if it had taken five hours. The two armies clashed near the centre of the field as Shimazu's senses went into overdrive and he heard; the cacophonous sound of spears and armour clashing, the breezy sound of swords being unsheathed, and the sickening noise made when metal penetrates the fragile human flesh; it all attempted to overwhelm Shimazu's senses. But he had been in battle before, and so did not falter. He aimed his spear at an approaching horseman's heart.

Otomo Yoshitsune rode hard against the onslaught of the army laid before him. He saw the sudden flash of the Takeda guns and moved his body violently, feeling a sudden heat go past his well armoured form. He yelled a few words of encouragement to his troops and he thought he could hear them answer back with a triumphant war cry. His spirits soared as adrenaline took over and he rode harder than ever. He swerved out of the middle of the armies as the deafening clash of their armours and spears reached his ears. The torrent of men fighting for their lords was proving much for Otomo's old body, but Otomo fought on. He swerved his horse around the approaching men, causing death at every move of his skillful spear. The second the fighting let up, he stole a look at his men, and felt de-spirited almost immediately. Many of his men had perished during the fated clash; he had failed as a leader. But then, he felt a new motivation to continue fighting, the most powerful motivation of all; survival.

He continued to strike all around him like a conquering typhoon; many men fell at his hands as he tried to make it to his own side. Just then he saw it. Like a flash of lightning, a lone enemy soldier had slipped in front of Otomo and had his spear at the ready. What happened next happened so fast that even Otomo himself could not make it out. The spear lunged towards Otomo's chest; aimed skillfully at his heart; and Otomo tried to shift his body to the right in order to avoid it, but all he managed to do in his tired and old body, was to shift a little to the right, causing the spear to impale his shoulder. But the strike was enough for Otomo to lose his balance, and he came tumbling to the ground. He fell hard against the blood-soaked body of one of his own men. He looked at his wound and saw the stream of blood gushing from his body, the armour itself had been damaged around the point of impact, so skillful the spearman was. He could feel a presence approach him, and so his finely honed reflexes quickly unsheathed his katana.

Chapter-4

Shimazu Ujitsuna felt most of his spear's blade break as it collided with the horseman. But he held it in place, and saw to it that the horseman fell to the ground. He quickly turned to an enemy soldier next to him and quickly dispatched him with his katana. Bloodlust had replaced guilt a long time ago, and was still ringing deep in Shimazu's soul, the Oni (Japanese demon) known as Shimazu turned to his previous victim, and saw him slowly getting up. He bolted towards the wounded horseman and was almost killed himself as a deadly iaijutsu (deadly move consisting of a lightning fast draw-and-slash technique) almost took his head.

In a flash, the wounded soldier was on his feet and the next few seconds went by in a blur as the two warriors faded into a world of their own, oblivious to the raging battle around them. The duel was desperate and calm, precise and chaotic, skillful and wild, as they collided against each other. Families and promises forgotten, they melded into a frenzy of bloodlust and instinct, locked in a battle far more exhausting than if they had taken on the entire army themselves. Then crimson lightning seemed to flash from a blade.

For a brief second, Otomo remembered back to the time of the order for him to leave for his current assignment. For a simple gut feeling, Otomo had left his prized armour to his son, Imagawa. He did not think about it afterwards, but, as the coldness of steel impaled his chest, he knew why he had done so. And as he stared into the blade dripping with his own crimson life, he thought he saw a tree, on fire, and then a familiar face seemed to smile at him as the cruel blade twisted, robbing him of life.

Shimazu felt the hurricane die down as the figure his sword was sticking into slumped silently onto the blood-drenched ground. There was an odd calm about the way the horseman, a general on closer inspection, died. Shimazu hoped that he would die as nobly. But then the full horrors of the battle re-entered his senses. He saw the Takeda horsemen rallying as they attacked the sides of the Tokugawa army. Shimazu himself ran towards the heart of the battle, as did countless others. His blade, a crimson such as the very flames of hell.

Epilogue

After many hours of frantic combat, Shimazu sat down in the makeshift tent on the outskirts of the Tokugawa headquarters. Drained of all energy, he let his body take over as his mind slipped into the warm embrace of sleep. He and countless other brave warriors fought hard for this victory, and they deserved their rest. There would either be a siege on the citadel, or they would return home as victors, but for now, no one cared about anything more than a good night's rest.

There wasn't a siege, and Takeda Shingen, content with the weakening of his enemy, returned triumphantly to his headquarters. Tokugawa Ieyasu, barely making it out of the battle alive, could nary breathe a sigh of relief. Thus, on this day, the 6th of January, 1573, ended the battle of Mikata-ga-hara in Tôtômi.

END

Title by Rekoxma.

Maybe I'll upload the previous two episodes if you like this. Let me know. And Rekoxma is a friend of mine.

And yes, I know...I do rock.

Ciao.

Happy New Year

Well...it is far from the crescending echo of time that is 'New Year' [how quaint] in Bangladesh. But I figured that it was a new year somewhere in this blue sphere of pain and ecstasy.

So, if you live in those parts where it is New Year already...go drown in some alcohol you hedonistic piece of inflammable luck. For those of you who are reading this after the new year has arrived and the mother, father, first cousin and awkward grandparent of hangovers is upon you: shame on you.

You should be sending me colourful and expensive gifts instead of lugging yourself around in your 2 bedroom apartment/palatial estate with slaves at every room.

And for those of you I have yet to specify or simply all of humanity:

HAPPY NEW YEAR

Ciao.

Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children---The Review

A long time ago, I played a little game that ended up changing my life. Final Fantasy VII was its name and it opened my mind to what a compelling story experience not only games can be the proud mediums of, but also to what greatness the human mind is capable of.

Now, almost 9 years later, the follow up to the greatest game of all time [at least in my superior and correct opinion] has been released. In the form of a CGI movie ala Spirits Within. So, as with everything to do with myself, I shall attempt to break all forms of tradition and present to you a quick and brief review of the movie.

First, the good news.

Unlike Hironobu Sakaguchi's [why are you making games for Micro$oft?! WHY?!] visually stunning yet cerebrally stupid movie...Advent Children rocks so badly that it makes me want to flip out and kill people. For those of you who are not 'in the know' or 'down with it' with such 'street' lingo...what I am trying to say is this: This movie is the greatest piece of action movie goodness you will ever watch until the next Final Fantasy movie.

Also unlike Spirits Within, this movie is directed by character designer of FFVII, FFVIII and FFX/X-2...Tetsuya Nomura. And my sentiments on his direction ability is this: a new Sakaguchi has risen.

I am still under the impression that no person living or dead has managed to put the sum of my [and at least 700,000 others'] feelings so skillfully and eloquently. Thus, I shall copy and paste [sans expletives] what the great Tycho [of Penny Arcade fame] had written:


"This film contains scenes that may be totally f******g awesome. Your favorite characters may be rendered in extreme detail as they take part in mind-blowing battles set in familiar locales. Futuristic scabbard/motorcycles might be depicted in a way that makes them appear sweet."

But I shall attempt to add something to that great piece of contemporary literature: I nearly cried like a baby while this great piece of film was being played before my eyes. Tears of joy people. Tears. Of. Joy.


Maybe I should also state the bad now...after all...this is a review:

Needed to be at least 60 hours long for me to start frothing at the mouth with pleasure and die [I would gladly die while watching this movie...I swear]...I want more swordfights and action. I want one of those Moogle dolls....and last but not least...

Where are the Chocobos?!!!

Now that I have that out of the way...allow me to rewatch that movie for like the 67th time. Believe me...I'm not joking.

Ciao.

Can't we all just get along?

A few of your earth days ago, I happened upon a scene which began to turn my cranial cogs like a magical cog-turning dragon thingy. It was of a comparitively well-off (financially) little girl-not more than 8 years of age- chatting non-chalantly with a young street boy.

Now, people outside of my native Bangladesh might be offended by calling a less privileged young human being a 'street' boy. But let me tell you this, as riven as my heart is at the thought of such a prospect, the denizens of Bangladesh live in a society in which the distribution of income is horrendously uneven. Where there are people living in near-famine conditions while there are those driving around in Porches and BMWs, sipping alcohol in a muslim nation just to be 'modern'. Now, let me make it clear that the improverished make up about 90-95% of our population and the alcohol-sipping cads make up around 1-2%. These disgusting abominations of our rapidly decaying society are usually the politicians, people we vote to lead us out of the aforementioned third-world poverty and into the bright light at the end of the tunnel-the title of 'developed' country. But alas, 90% of our foreign aid and even domestic revenue end up in these unethical beings' own pockets, leaving the general populace's dreams of a better life merely that...a dream.

Alas, I stray from the main point.

Thus, with this alarmingly gargantuan disparity in income levels, our society has degraded almost into a form of 'class' system. Where the well off turn their collective noses up at those whose only sin was to be fated with a poor household and a lack of proper education which would be the keystone to their rising the social ladders. Thus, us 'rich' ones...yes, I too am a member of this 1-2% minority [although not the BMW/Porche driving fanatics with their indian fashion sense and immoral vices. Fine...we aren't as well off as those retards.] usually segregate ourselves from the impoverished majority of our realm. There are, of course, exceptions to the rule, but they are few and too far between.

The scene I mentioned way up there in the beginning of this labyrinthine essay got me puzzling my puzzler until I realized a certain point we as humans almost never admit. We turn into uptight little pricks when we grow up.

Face the facts, when you were a young little ne'er-do-well, causing a ruckus for the denial of the purchase of some fabulous, obscure little toy, did you ever discriminate? Did you ever stop talking to a fellow human being just because he or she was different from you? Sift through the sin, swim through the pain and tears and hearken back to the days of yore. And the answer should hit you like that truck that keeps missing you on the highway: never. At least, not unless the grown-ups told you to.

Every gathering I ever went to that featured tiny tots [ages 2-8] in moderate numbers were met with the same sight. A smorgasbond [is that even a word? I remember hearing/reading that word somewhere once...some help is appreciated] of tolerance and equality is usually the sight you will behold once you see these hellraisers interact. Gone are social status, gone are differences in monetary conditions, gone are any form of discrimination. These kids are saints.

At least when you compare them to the absolute cesspool of ignorance, hate and intolerance that us creatures above the puberty-line are. We constantly check our little meter of social status like a healthbar in an especially hard videogame. Constantly behaving a certain way so as to show of our powers over those 'below' us. I'm not talking simply about the third-world here. I'm talking about the whole world. Even those from fully-developed and ultra-super-duper-extra powered-giga-futuristic metropoli are guilty of this sad by-product of a fast-paced world.

Where did we go wrong people?

It is a well known fact that during the years leading upto puberty, human beings are information sponges, absorbing even arbitrary and pointless information like a super absorbant piece of tissue paper in a pint of easily-absorbed liquid. And we all try hard to teach these children the harsh realities of life so that they grow up to be just as we are, and maybe even better. For human beings have the capacity to be better. But for once, I would like to take this opportunity to request you people over the age of 13, to take a page out of children's books and try to learn from them. We all yell and scream and pull each others' hair for human rights and for the fair treatment of the entire human race.

Maybe we should practice what we preach.

Ciao.

The Eight Immo...Myths of Gaming. [Now powered by BOOMERANGS]

Here is a nice little article on eight myths about video games debunked.

And here is a pleasantly surprising and not very well known fact about the PS3 controller.

Nothing else to report for today.....ummmm....yeah...

Ciao.

Knights of the New Final Fantasy Republic XII

I remember my first time playing a title out of a certain Role-Playing Game [RPG] franchise. As silly as I felt playing through the 8th carnation of a title, I gave it a try. The opening cinematic promised an action-packed adventure of biblical proportions and I licked my parched lips as I waited feverishly for the actual gameplay to begin. Then after about 15 minutes of getting accustomed to the controls and whatnot, I began a battle with a tiny blue bug, wondering about the gunblade armed, acrobatic leaps and magical bounds I would unleash upon this poor little creature, whose only sin was encountering me before the rest of the unsuspecting world. Then, after coming face-to-face with the realization that action in the game is in fact turn-based...I merely wanted to see some more of the story before the game would be chucked out the window like an expired laxative. Then I met the storyline.

And I stayed. Oh god did I stay!

Of course, as the more perceptive of you will realize, the game I just finished talking about was a little known title known as Final Fantasy VIII. A gem of a game that, besides introducing the atrocious Junction system, single-handedly changed my perceptions about the media form known as video games. Gone were the days when gaming meant mindlessly eviscerating foes with a cannon in your arms...gone were the days where I thought only America made all the good games...and gone were the days when I couldn't get emotionally attached to a game and its polygonal, digital entities. I was born to the greatness that is Final Fantasy.

It didn't take me long to hunt down Final Fantasy VII and soon, I had fallen behind Cloud and Co's mission to save the Planet from the evil, Aeris-killing blade of Sephiroth. And it was pretty much the greatest game I have ever played, even up to this very moment as I regale you with my adventures.

I have not played Final Fantasy IX, X, X-2 nor XI, as I never owned a console after the 16-bit era. But with the advent of the Ps3, believe me...I will. But besides XI, I have played a little of the others, including ye-olde FFV and FFVI, and Chrono Trigger...and I was convinced that the entity of Square [now Square-Enix] could do no wrong.

Until now.

Haters and the more observant take heed, my following opinions are based on the numerous reports and actual in-game footage I have seen, so keep the "But it hasn't even been released yet lol" card to yourselves. I hope I am proved wrong about this...believe me. God knows I've been wrong [rare] before.

Final Fantasy XII...the latest rendition of the honoured classic franchise. A blend of cutting-edge current-gen graphics, and some of the most sophisticated and detailed CGI ever coded...as well as being the latest in the Final Fantasy series is enough for gaming fanatics to get their stamps of approval out this instance. But as us fans of the series know...things are not always what they seem.

My main gripe with XII is the overall interface. It is basically a tweaked out version of FFXI and I, as well as many others, do not like that. FFXI was an online game, thus the drastic changes in battle mechanics was pardonable. But this...this is an offline game and yet they still decided to stick to the FFXI system, mostly I feel, to draw in the countless newbies and FFXI freaks who have never touched FF before in thier lives and who would be shocked out of their de-sensitized covenant-bashing stupors. Oh woe!

But in doing so, they have stripped away the juicy, almost ethereal soul of the majestic tradition that is Final Fantasy. The ATB battle system, the Junction system, that turn-based thingy FFX used, they were different yes, but the core mechanics were still the same. But with this abomination, they had destroyed that great tradition, the stress-free-yet-so-stressful battles and what did they achieve? What new age wonder and pinnacle of the role-playing universe are they developing? The answer, like so many others, lies in another.

Namely...Knights of the Old Republic.

Now don't get me wrong...KOTOR was a true masterpiece of the very highest standard, and Bioware successfully got me reading more about Star Wars in the space of a few days than I had all my life. But it was no Final Fantasy...which is not really a bad thing. In essence, they had successfully created a battle environment that was unique to KOTOR, much like Square and Enix with their respective Final Fantasies and Dragon Quests. And it was good, but not really the thing I would see the gaming gods at Square-Enix emulate.

Kingdom Hearts was a good game, featuring its own brand of battles which was more action than any Square-Enix game which featured characters from Final Fantasy. But we all hoped that at least after a gruelling day of studies or work or whatever it is we as human beings do...we could sit down and engage in some Final Fantasy...

But what I didnt want was to sit down and see this gay-looking boy who looks barely out of his pre-pubescent coddling, wielding a sword and shield against a monster, in a battle system which is more like FF flavoured KOTOR. Where is the originality there? Is Squenix going to go against the rest of their traditions and make a crappy game for once?

If you are reading this Square-Enix...take notice. Change the battle system. I like having control over all my characters, I like seeing some vestiges of testosterone in my main characters, and I like Limit Breaks. You've spent most of our lifetimes making this one game, I, as well as several others, worry about the quality of your games when you do that.

Then again...if you do not change the system, you had better make sure that this is the greatest piece of gaming software ever to grace our jaded Final Fantasizing eyes, and that we can sing hymns to the greatness of the game as it ascends the throne of Valhalla.

Ciao.

You know you've been in Japan too long if...

Yes, I'm still alive! Don't worry, none of those small people who hate this blog have brutally executed me with a cherry...it's all right.

But I have indeed been bored the last couple of days, so for the first time, I shall attempt to entertain you people from this little list I found on the net.

Enjoy.

You know you've been in Japan too long if...

...when you think it's alright to stick your head into a stranger's apartment to see if anybody's home.
...your hair is thinning and you consider it "barcode style".
...you think the natural location for a beer garden is on a roof.
...you think that you can impress foreigners by drinking Budweiser.
...you ride a Honda Cub with a sidecar.
...you think "white pills, blue pills, and pink powder" is an adequate answer to the
question "What are you giving me, doctor?".
...you remember when Yamamoto Linda came on at the very end of the show (NHK's
Yume de aimashou) and kept her mouth shut.
...you have discovered the attraction of high school navy uniforms.
...when you no longer find anything unusual in the concept of "Vermont curry".
...you think 4 layers of wrapping is reasonable for a simple piece of merchandise.
...you don't find anything strange about a city that puts a life sized, red-and-white
painted Eiffel tower imitation in its center, as well as a scale model of the Versaille Palace for its Crown Prince.
...you are only slightly puzzled by "Melty Kiss."
...a new Gaijin moves to your neighborhood and you know immediately you will get his mail for a while.
...you think the meaning of a red traffic light is: "Hurry up! Ten cars now in quick
succession, and then we'll think about slowing down."
...when you get on a train with a number of gaijin on it and you feel uneasy because the harmony is broken.
...you ask fellow foreigners the all-important question "How long have you been here?" in
order to be able to properly categorize them.
...when looking out the window of your office, you think "Wow, so many trees!" Instead
of "Wow, so much concrete!"
...when you find yourself thinking "great, it's almost time for Paul Harvey, have to turn on the radio."
...when you sing FEN's "Here's what's happening around the Kanto plain" song aloud in
your car while air-drumming.
...you think NHK is "the Japanese BBC."
...you think curry rice is food.
...the Yakult lady knows you by name.
...you think it is quite OK to play volleyball with 12 people per team.
...when in the middle of nowhere, totally surrounded by rice fields and abundant nature,
you aren't surprised to find a drink vending machine with no visible means of a power supply...
...and when you think nothing of it when that lonely vending machine says 'thank you' after you buy a coke.
...you stand before a sign on a bridge and ponder the possible meanings of "Bridge
Freezes Before Road."
...it takes fifteen seconds of deep thought to recall the first name of the President of the United States.
...a non-Japanese sits down next to you on the train and you get up and move. You're
not prejudiced, but who knows what they might do?
...you are outwardly appalled to see someone pour miso shiru over rice, but do it in private yourself (neko meshi).
....you only have 73 transparent, plastic umbrellas in your entrance because you have
donated 27 to the JR and various taxi companies in the past few months.
...you have over 100 small, transparent plastic umbrellas in your entrance even *after*
donating 27 of them to taxis and JR recently.
...you realize it's perfectly reasonable for the Post Office to designate you as the local
redistribution agent for all letters addressed in yokomoji.
...when you absolutely do not possess the ability to mispronounce Japanese words
"like a non-Japanese would."
...when you pay over 6000 yen for a lipstick and realize a few days later how much you
really spent. (Or 7000 yen for a Captain Santa T-shirt. -Pete)
...when your arguing with someone about the color of the traffic light being blue or
green...and you think it's blue.
...you are proud of yourself for beating the system by buying a case of Labbatt's Blue for 160 yen a can.
...you think rice imports should be prohibited, because Japanese consumers would never buy imported rice.
...when you think one kind of rice tastes better than another kind.
...you get a "Nihongo ga joozu" and feel really insulted.
...you see a road with two lanes going in the same direction and assume the one on the left is meant for parking.
...when you think Japan actually has only four seasons
...when you pull out your ruler to underline words.
...when getting ready for a trip you automatically calculate for omiyage and you leave
just the right amount of space in your suitcase for them.
...you manage "yankii-zuwari" without anything propping up your heels.
...not only do you overcome your childhood training and spit out the mikan membranes,
but you discover the knack of peeling the mikan so that the peel forms a neat
receptacle for you to spit the membranes into.
...when having gaijin around you is a source of stress.
...you watch the grocer's with interest to see when the price of mikans will break.
...on a cold autumn night, the only thing you want for dinner is nabe and nihonshu.
...you return the bow from the cash machine.
...you can't find the "open" and "close" buttons in the elevator because they're in English.
...when you think children should have to walk around in the freezing cold with only
short sleeves and shorts up to their butt (to make them strong!).
...when you think that coffee goes perfectly well with squid pizza.
...you can do arithmetic using man, oku, cho. and kei.
...you sympathize with your Japanese student because her daughter is baka because
she wears spring tops with winter skirts and you both sit down to try and see what can
be done about this wild child.
...you count things with chuu chuu tako kai na.
...you cound things using the ni no shi no ro no ya no to song.
...you can't read your kids the Three Little Pigs without giggling when you get the part
about "Not by the hair of chinny chin chin."
...you bow to other drivers who give you the right of way.
...you fully understand the concept of "cute culture."

Hmm...I personally don't live in Japan, but it seems that some of these points hold true for me as well. I wonder if that's a good sign...(^_^)


Well...that's all for now. Hopefully I shall have something controversial or just plain mean to say next time.

Ciao.

E-I-E-I-Otaku?! Nani???

It has recently come to my attention the absolute mania that pervades the use of this word: Otaku. It seems that every two-bit anime viewer who has seen at least two complete series or a substantially high number of anime movies considers him/herself an 'otaku'. This disgraceful phenomenon exists mainly in the males of our predominantly male societies. Irony seems to follow closely to the heels of this strange foreign word, obviously with Japanese origins, but mistranslated and now unfortunately mutated into the frightening Franken-Dracula-Goku love child it is. After a gruelling conversation with the highly learned in all things Japanese and 'anime' [emphasis on the apostrophes], I have come to the final conclusion.

All self-proclaimed 'otaku' should be dragged out into the streets; still clinging to their Escaflownes and Evangelions; and a swift-but-sure, precise-but-powerful, world-shattering shotgun should be efficiently utilised to render their sorry poser carcasses vulture-meat. In short, 'otaku' does not mean what you western mongrels make it out to be.

Being an 'otaku' does not grant you wisdom beyond all living creatures, it does not catapult you into the upper echelons of social scrutiny, it does not mean that you are 'cool' all of a sudden just because you spent all day with your behind planted in your sofa watching cartoons. Because at the end of the day...what you are is a nerd.

Of course, being a nerd is not a bad thing per se. Au contrair, it is actually a good thing. I myself am a nerd and I have laid waste to many an anime, manga, RPG and movie. But I don't go around parading that fact around. I don't suddenly expect damsels to land at my feet, clawing and tugging at me, begging me to grace their ears with a single word of deeply amorous undertones. Although that would be nice.

No, the fact of the matter is...there are different classifications of 'nerd'. There are nerds who, having spent the better part of their education careers involved with computers, are modern-day Mithrandirs...capable of more magicks with their keyboards than Gandalf himself. Then there are the nerds who are so involved with a particular fictional universe, that they devote their spare time making theories about how the moon of Endor shouldve been decimated by a fallout of cataclysmic proportions. Yes, extreme, but at least those guys dont want any special treatment sans the occasional mercy.

But now, with the advent of the wonderful creation known as 'anime' as a leading pop-culture source, some lame-brained Miyazaki-wannabe decided to take a quite uncool word in Japanese and turn it into a phenomenon, with geeks in the geek pantheon vying for dominion as the 'otaku' overlord. Go. Shoot. Yourselves. Please.

The word 'otaku' in japanese means 'maniac'. This word causes images of greasy, fat, bespectacled couch-potatoes too afraid of vitamin D to give fresh air and sunlight a chance; to float through the vortex that is the average japanese mind.

It does not cause images of super-beings too powerful for humanity to control and too weak for God to take into His bosom...to appear. Stop. Calling. Yourselves. That.

I am frankly quite disgusted by the average anime-enthusiast who reads a thing or two on japanese culture and learns a few words in japanese to suddenly declare him/herself [usually him], accompanied by proud smile, an 'otaku'. Sure, great accomplishment...let me contact Time Magazine. The scoop of the century. w00t. j00 @r3 teh r0x0rz!

The word 'otaku' was simply butchered by the west in much the same way as the word 'hentai' was. Great, now that I have piqued your waning attentions with the 'h' word...might as well explain it. The word 'hentai' in japanese means 'pervert' or 'sexual predator'...that's it. It does in no way connote a genre as a whole. It's like calling pornography 'pervert'. Like the now-[in]famous "All your base are belong to us" line...it simply became a part of pop-culture due to some 30-year old 50-inch waistlined dorito-muncher who couldn't come to grips with the subtle intricacies of the japanese syntax.

So my point and request is this...please! Enough is enough! Japanese is a beautiful language, don't butcher it, for everytime some 'Hello Kitty' cosplaying non-japanese person with delusions of grandeur calls himself an 'otaku' to express his clear superiority over the rest of us inferior beings...a part of Japanese culture dies. The japanese language is meant as a form of communication with our Japanese counterparts. Dont embarass the human race and the good people of Japan by calling yourself 'otaku' simply because you watched a bunch of bootlegged anime. It is nothing to be proud of. Stop it.

Please.

Ciao.

A PASSIONate Video

Well...just downloaded the 'Passion' Music Video by Utada Hikaru, and I must say, it was well worth the time invested. The animated sequence in the beginning tantalized all but my most amorous senses and of course...our intrepid singer looked as gorgeous as ever! The imagery in the video was up to par, sans the final thirty seconds with the horses...which came out of no where. Truth be told... I would have preferred it if they cut out the wild stallion part completely...it ruined the magic of the 'Blue-world'.

The video also gave me the biggest scare I have had since about...well, quite a substantial amount of time! Why? Let us simply say that Utada Hikaru videos and dancing harems do not mix. Of course...as always, our respected artist who has more integrity than any other singer since time was not there to dance with the aforementioned dancing girls...thank god! Not meaning to say that she can't dance or would look awful dancing...but if you have seen more than two of her videos...you will know what I mean.

Also...I loved the use of digital handycams in the video...very refreshing.

As always...amazing video. Keep it up.
Ciao.

ESUNA!!!

Yes, I'm cured of my debillitating writer's block.

Ciao.

Inspiration can do wonders...domo arigatou guzai masu H***i-chan!!

Well, here are the bare facts...I was simply sitting at my seat...minding my own business, when a blast of vibrations going straight to my ear drums catch me off guard. The next thing I know, I am writing like a machine on cyber-steroids...unable to stop, visions of a powerful world spurring me on, I was in a trance. And if you're reading this [which has a 90% probability of never happening], arigatou.

Well, here is a small excerpt of what I have so far written...most of it is quite essential to the plot...and due to my extreme paranoia about my work, I have decided not to grace this page with anything further. Well, enjoy!

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“Well, the charade is up Samus my friend. May I enter the hanger now?” he asked, as if asking a dear friend of several years.

“Why not? It’s not like it’s your first time…and knowing you, it surely won’t be your last.” Bellowed Samus, his face still bloated and red from the side-splitting bout of laughter he had just recovered from.

Samus turned around and went over to the little panel at the side of the heavily-guarded hanger. He nonchalantly inserted his Level-1 key into the small aperture and turned it. There was a faint click, and then where there was a discoloured wall merely seconds ago, revealed itself to be an intricate doorway, as the discoloured tiles slid and slipped over each other and moved aside, revealing a small passageway meant for small deliveries and personnel, the passage walls were lined with gold, a resource found aplenty in the Kingdom of Aracos.

Samus, having done his little favour, turned back to Ray and spoke, in a very serious tone: “Make sure you aren’t caught, or it’ll be my job.”

“I won’t. I promise.” Ray coldly replied. He never took favours for granted.

As Samus returned to his usual position in front of the passageway, Ray slowly slipped into the passageway, making sure that nobody saw him enter. As he walked cautiously through the dimly-lit catacombs that were the maintenance passages, and finally emerged into the other side, his feelings changed from those of caution into those of child-like wonder, an emotion lost to him in recent years. Forgetting Samus’ advice, he gazed into the largest airship he had ever laid his eyes upon.

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Well, that's it for now. Be sure to see the rest of this in a bookstore near you.

Ciao.

Ushering in a new age through writing is hard!!!

I used to be one of you inferior beings once. I used to wake up from my nightly slumber and scoff at any books lying around and go on to the bathroom to grace the world with my rugged good looks. I read books, of course I read books. But after every page of those tomes had given up their knowledge and declared me their master, I used to engage in non-productive thought by cursing at these 'authors' making a fast buck through writing. It seemed to me that writing was the easiest thing in the world, the only activity marginally easier being the art of talking, walking and thinking. I mean, one merely has to look at the fact that Drew Carey wrote a number 1 bestseller to come unfalteringly to my same conclusion.

Oh god...how wrong I was.

It merely took me to start taking up writing as a career choice; due in large parts to my own unmistakable talent, my friends and Utada Hikaru; for me to realize the stark misconceptions I had harbored until the day I myself took up the pen and paper [or, as more accurately...the keyboard and word]. The career path of a writer is strewn with as many obstacles in his'her path as the amount of commas and semi-colons that suffocately brandish the works of Tolkien or Khalil Jibran. The prospect of writing a complete original tome [commonly known...as a book] is staggering to behold to the common writer wannabe that currently pollutes the Earth as we know it.

Unless your name happens to be J.K.Rowling.

Now, I am a fan of J.K.Rowling's works. I read every single episode of her Harry Potter opus with relish and pure pleasure, and I will admit that she has a flair for the unexpected. Too bad her skill with words is as able as a platypus struggling with chinese. It pains me, an aspiring writer destined to be in the upper echelons of intellectuals and society as a whole, to realize that Rowling made more money with her 5 books using words simple enough for toddlers to understand than Tolkien probably ever did. It pains me to struggle with words only to have the letters from her books mock me at every page.

Well...look at me...I kind of got diverted from the beaten path. Where was I?

Right.

The literary life of a writer, whether a song-writer, poetry-writer [I am aware they are known as poets], or simply that of a story-writer is laced with a poison that merely mentioning causes fear, uncertainty and doubt among those creatively gifted. This poison is to be mentioned by only those who are the most maniacally brave...those who would brave a dragon's lair for shits and giggles. And I am that person, mainly because I am currently afflicted by this poison...someone cast Esuna. Brace yourself, hug your loved ones, and settle all your debts, as I announce the name of this evil: Writer's Block.

This ailment grabs ahold of your soul like an anvil strapped to your ankles and doesn't let go until you have garnered the will necessary to defeat it...or until you die. Take for example me, inspiration has struck me and I have spent many an hour typing away at a fantastical journey of rediscovery and lost dreams, filled with the most inventive contraptions and a wholly original world that continues to baffle my mind as I receive flashes of its beauty and elegance.

Too bad I have been unable to put that damn world into words as of 2 hours ago. I know my characters, they are complex, they have dreams, loves, devotion and friendships...I know how they think, how they react to the unimaginable circumstances I have yet to transcribe into words and how they ultimately end up. Yet I am unable to put these complexeties into words even as I see them flash by as a kaleidoscope of war, love and friendship.

Thus, I am filled with nothing but the utmost respect for all those who rely upon their creativity for sanity and a living. Except Drew Carey. And I am afraid that I have yet to usher in a new age. But please be patient...I'm strong enough to trudge along to fulfill my dreams. No. Matter. What.