Problem Attic. Insert witty tagline here.

Extracts from this wonderful example of the intarwebs:

The video with his site is clear evidence of temporal lobe delusional thinking.
ie Crap

Yes, clear evidence. The video with his site certainly… wait, what?

As I say, your approach is friendly and inclusive but remember convincing a whore that Jesus wants her to work on mathematics is difficult.

Yes, I imagine convincing a whore that Jesus wants her to work on mathematics would be exceedingly difficult. However, having never tried it, I couldn’t be sure. Maybe you’d be all “hey baby, Jesus says it’s time for some integration” and she’d be all “df of 2x is x to the two plus n” and you’d be all “right on!”

If anyone wants a data-entry job for the short-term, send me an email at ‘matt’ at this domain.

A Fictional Story

(This is, shall we say, a “teaser” of my attempt to answer one of Gus’s suggestions box offerings.)

Egads sighed as the door blew open, gusting his paperwork across the floor.

“Farout Mann, you are a pain in the butt.” he said. “Are you going to close that thing?”

Farout grinned sheepishly and closed the door, cutting off the minor inflow of dead leaves and snow. He took off his gloves and ear-flapped fur hat, and began unwinding his scarf.

“They’re a bit restless today—I nearly got bitten a couple of times.” he said.

“It’ll be the weather” said Egads. “It shouldn’t be snowing this early.”

“That’s probably it. Still, I might go check on them again a bit later.” Farout hung his scarf on the hook with his gloves and hat and crouched to gather Egads’s paperwork. His knees creaked, and he groaned.

“Why couldn’t we have been sent to a species that stands upright or something? My knees can’t take too much more of this crouching nonsense.”

Egads snorted. “The crouching is nothing. What gets me is having imaginary fleas continually picked out of my hair. I mean, I get this close to turning around and hitting them.”

“Something I imagine you’re quite careful not to do, after last time?”

Egads looked down at Farout. He lazily stretched out a boot, and gave Farout a shove that sent him (and the paperwork) sprawling across the floor. “Shut up, Mann.”

Gudo Blog is the blog of Zen Buddhist master Gudo Nishijima.

Sometimes, you find yourself doing strange things.

Like today, when it made perfect sense to me to name a file ideal_hogget_mating.

(This is the first in my Suggestions Box series.)

Today I’ll be answering a question from Stan, who wrote:

Why are the Street Fighter Alpha movies so disappointing?

Stan, here’s your answer.

Why are the Street Fighter Alpha movies so disappointing?

Firstly: let’s face it, a film will always struggle to imitate the narrative perfection and sublime characterisation that fish-and-chip shop arcade machines offer. I mean, that scene where that guy beats that other guy to a pulp and then does his victory move — that’s humanity, that’s triumph over adversity, there. Sure, it’s portrayed in pixels the size of your thumb, with about 3 different colours to choose from, but I’ve always said that constraints breed genius. The graphical limitations, in my humble opinion, simply served as a catalyst—an inspiration, if you will—to the writers and the voice actors, whose lack of recognition in the sphere of the arts is, quite simply, a crime of gross negligence.

So, to answer your question, Stan, you were bound to be disappointed. Your mistake lies not in expecting a beautiful, emotive experience from the film adaptations—by any other standards, the films are a meeting point of the divine and the human. No, your mistake lies in the fact that beside the perfection—the sublime transcendence—of the games, any work of art would pale. I sincerely believe that Michelangelo himself would have wept had he beheld the Custom Combo system, and Chuck Norris is reported to have based his character in Walker, Texas Ranger on the character of Akuma (the game version of course; the movie characterisation was shallow in comparison). Of course the films were disappointing; one cannot better perfection.