For the majority of my self-aware life, I’ve been able to divide cold cereal into four reasonably-consistent categories.
You have your “adult” cereals, which category name I confess conjures up images of very specific fetishes, but which I will here use to mean cereals that your parents might eat. Here we have your muesli, your Golden Grahams, your Grape Nuts.
Next, we have cereals for kids whose parents hate them. Cheerios, Wheaties, Kix, purgatory’s cereal aisle made real. Nothing that a massive amount of surreptitiously-applied sugar couldn’t fix, but the sort of thing that suggested that fun was discouraged. Seeing one of these in the cupboard at a sleepover said that you were in a loveless house and that a divorce was likely imminent.
That may be a bit harsh, but both of my childhood friends whose parents fed them Cheerios wound up children of divorcees. So, sample size two, 100% correlation.
Finally, two categories of cereal bought for children by parents who loved them: Inherently-sugared cereals, such as your Fruit Loops and Super Sugar Crisp and Trix, and cereals which had a boring base cereal but were saved by the inclusion of marshmallows or some other sugar delivery method. Lucky Charms is probably the archetypical example of this category, but honestly most kids would probably eat cat litter if you packed it with enough rainbow-colored marshmallows.
To be ABSOLUTELY fair, pack a cool-enough toy into a box of cat litter and your average 8-year old will probably swear on their life that cat litter has ALWAYS been their favorite cereal and that they absolutely do not want it just for the toy and will definitely eat the entire box.
But, that aside, this was the Way of Breakfast Cereal, and it was Good.
Last weekend, I saw this abomination in the aisle at the local Fred Meyer, perhaps created by a well-meaning Cereal Engineer toiling away in the General Mills as an attempt to show even more love for children nationwide, but one which betrays a lack of understanding for the basic principles behind “Part” of your complete breakfast:
By itself, it might be excusable as an anomaly, a curiosity, something that one might buy a box of on a lark and then consume in a single cartoon-fueled cereal binge, I’m not judging and let he who has not emptied a box of Fruity Pebbles by 9AM cast the first stone, but I fear that it might represent the beginning of a trend.
Such a trend, left unchecked, threatens the very balance of the cereal aisle and how it reflects parental affection. What future monstrosities might it birth? Are you ready to explain to junior that he can NOT have a box of “cereal” consisting entirely of small, rather stale marshmallows?
This menace must be stopped. I propose a march upon Battle Creek, Michigan. Pitchforks and torches WILL be provided, though there will of course be a minimal deposit required.
Bastards have owed me a “Tony the Tiger” branded transistor radio since roughly 1982 anyway. I didn’t eat all those boxes of Frosted Flakes for the flavor, dig?
So, as I mentioned a few days ago, I bought the latest Call of Duty game, or at least tried very hard to buy it in the face of a corporation determined to give it to me for free, and I’ve spent an hour or so a night playing through the single-player campaign, which is an appropriately over-the-top affair involving a deranged mastermind and his attempt to take over the world and your attempts to, well, stop him from taking over the world, starring Virtual Kevin Spacey, Not-Sean-Connery, Russian-Michelle-Rodriguez, Two Token Minorities Who Will Be Killed To Motivate You, and Mitchell.
You play as Mitchell.
I don’t normally remember the names of Call of Duty protagonists, but Not-Sean-Connery says your name SO DANG MUCH that it finally kind of sunk in. He talks a LOT, actually, always shouting out about enemies at one o’clock or telling you to plant a charge and so on. This is the sort of game that doesn’t need a strategy guide, because Not-Sean-Connery is always there to tell you what to do next.
Anyway, it was a pretty snappy action-movie story, with some elements ripped from today’s headlines and a super-weapon right out of a 1940s Heinlein novel, and a plot twist that is, well, telegraphed from about five minutes into the game but who cares. Virtual Kevin Spacey is pretty cool, him and Virtual Jeff Bridges from Tron Legacy should work together on something.
Leaving the story aside, the real reason that I wanted to play this was the cool future tech, and it delivered that. You get to ride around in Slightly Oversized Stompy Mechs, ride hoverbikes and jump over school buses in your exoskeleton, there are a couple of drone sequences, and there’s a hovertank sequence that may – just MAY – have finally replaced the tank sequence from Halo 3 as my Favorite Videogame Tank Sequence. Seriously, the designers just tapped right into their inner twelve-year old boy and delivered almost everything that my inner twelve-year-old boy ever wanted.
The game does have one bit of cool future tech that I wasn’t too fond of, though, because it felt like something of a shortcut on the part of the designers. You have these “Threat Grenades”, which, when thrown, helpfully put a red highlight on everything you would like to shoot and a blue highlight on people you shouldn’t shoot right now. Likewise, many of the weapons you pick up have “Target Enhancer” sights, which again thoughtfully turn all of the bad guys into red silhouettes. You can tell when you’ve shot a bad guy enough times because your sights are intelligent enough to realize the moment that he has shuffled off the mortal coil and the highlight goes away.
I played through on Normal, and I’m kind of curious whether the higher difficulty levels turn off this sort of assistance or whether they work in the more traditional method, where all of your opponents are crack shots and you are wearing personal body armor made from Kleenex(R) brand tissue-paper.
I understand there’s also online multi-player, which I should not try because I suspect that my inner twelve-year-old boy is no match for the ACTUAL twelve-year-old boys who I would likely be playing against. That said, I’d dearly like to see any of them try their hand at Sinistar. We’d see who was laughing then.
Oh dear. I may be becoming part of The Problem, where I define The Problem as people who take videogames too seriously for their own good.
I was playing through a couple of songs in Project Diva f during my federally-mandated break period this morning, and I actually caught myself internally complaining that I was having to play the songs on Normal to unlock the hard difficulty levels.
Keep in mind that the draw of the Miku games should be the characters and the music and the neat music videos, and that playing on hard or higher means that you have to actively block out all the visual elements that aren’t note markers. It’s turning fun into Serious Business, something I’m philosophically opposed to.
So I am chastised. I mean, I’m still working towards unlocking the hard modes, but I’m going to try to have just a wee tetch more patience about the process.
I don’t often talk about work, partially because honestly what I do is a little boring to most folks and partially because I work in technical support for an information security product, so I am under a ton of non-disclosure agreements.
I will simply say that there are a lot of places where I only pay cash.
We have fancy names for the various kinds of support agents we have, but if you break it down by the traditional model I’m a Tier 4 agent, which means that I generally only talk to two kinds of customers – customers who have paid a LOT for support, or customers who are really good at yelling and who have been escalated to me to fix. My co-workers, thus, are usually either incredibly smart techs or have incredibly good people skills or, in very rare occasions, both.
For the record, I tend towards the people skills side of things, at least on the phone.
Now, actual security breaches are legitimately rare, so many of the support cases we take are from network administrators who are trying to integrate the product I work on into their network and really don’t know exactly what they’re doing but can dial a phone.
It is a little sad when you have to walk someone with an email signature proudly proclaiming them to be “Director of Information Technology, xyz Megacorp” through setting up a share quota policy on Server 2008R2. It is mind-breakingly depressing when you have to talk the Director of Information Technology through opening up a command prompt and running ipconfig.
But I digress.
Despite the fact that a lot of what we do is basically network administration consulting, few of us have any formal certifications. An important survival skill is being able to search Google quickly at the same time as making educated-sounding small talk designed to cover the fact that we have no idea what we’re talking about. So, training is a frequent request because frankly we need to know enough to at least sound like we have a clue.
ANYWAY, to get back to the point I’ve been circling around.
A couple of months back, we all had to take an exam, all about how to use the case management system and how to document things and super basic troubleshooting philosophies, with lots of questions like “if customer x has y tier of support, how quickly do you have to respond to his emails?”
An examination on how to do paperwork, basically, nothing technical about it, just the sort of corporate busywork you knock out in 15 or 20 minutes and then forget about.
Today we got an email thanking all of us for taking the exam and complimenting us on the high passing rate. It also explained that management had heard us asking for additional training, that the exam had been the start of a new training initiative in response to our requests, and that the results would be used as a baseline to determine where we needed extra training in the future.
So, I guess we’ll all be getting more training… on how to use the case management system.
I think pretty much everyone has a “things I’d do if I had a time machine” list, and mine has all the usual suspects on it. Selfies with Jesus, maybe suggest to Lincoln that it’s a TERRIBLE night to go to the theater, catch Star Wars on opening weekend and pay Hitler a comfortable stipend to produce a multi-volume set of architecture paintings rather than go into politics.
The usual stuff.
Playing a localized version of a Project Diva game has made me add one MORE thing to my list, and that’s to go back to roughly 1994, find the Sony executives making decisions for the US PlayStation launch, and punch whoever had the bright idea to reverse the functions of O and X until they promise not to do it.
I think this is a perfectly reasonable reason to break the laws of physics.
I do not often shop at Hot Topic. Not to put too fine a point on it, but I am so far outside of their target demographic that I may as well not even live on the same planet as them.
With that in mind, I cannot be CERTAIN of the following statement, but I believe that there is a very strong chance indeed that this item represents the most hot-topicy thing that Hot Topic has ever hot-topiced:
(Side note: There’s also a Princess Sunbutt edition)
We live in a very peculiar world.
Well, I managed to unlock and buy all of Miku’s costumes in Project Diva: Extend, which has been my criteria for “finishing” games in the series so far. It didn’t take terribly long to get to this point, though, because the songs list is shorter than previous installments in the series and I was able to import everything I’d unlocked in the first two games, so I spent a few more hours with it to unlock some of Luka’s outfits. I also spent some time trying to train my brain to use the d-pad instead of buttons to hit notes, which is one of those techniques that I’ve often heard recommended for getting better at the game but something I’ve never really sat down and messed with before.
I can’t say that I got very good at it, but I’m improving.
All-in-all, I put about ten hours into Extend (compare to 44 hours in the first Project Diva) and now I’m officially putting it down in order to move on to Project Diva f .
Compared to either of the previous games, the songs list and rhythm parts of the game almost feel like an afterthought. Rather, it has a bunch of usability fixes and new features for stuff like edit mode and the Diva rooms. It DID come out in 2011, however, so it may have been that Sega was testing out some new stuff in preparation for the Vita game.
Regardless, it’s every bit as fun as other entries in the series. If you like mashing buttons in vague time along with electronic music and a synthesized idol cavorting on your PSP screen, this will give you more of that.
On a personal preference note, it’s fantastic to see both 初音ミクの消失 (The Disappearance of Hatsune Miku) and 初音ミクの激唱 (“The Singing Passion of Hatsune Miku) in the same song list. These two were the Final Boss Fights from games 1 and 2, respectively, and they make up nicely for some of the songs that didn’t make a reappearance.
I also fell quite in love with one of the new songs, 結んで開いて羅刹と骸, which the Project Diva Wiki thoughtfully translates as “Join up, Open up, the Rakshasa and the Corpse”.
I’m not entirely sure what a Rakshasa is in mythology – too much exposure to AD&D in my youth means that i will forever think of them as a tiger wearing a dressing gown – but the song has a delightfully creepy-yet-adorable music video related with it. Vita version of said video follows:
…which, as an aside, REALLY opened my eyes to how much better the Vita hardware is. I mean, the PSP was a solid workhorse for the better part of a decade, but wow if technology hasn’t gotten better since 2004. It’s going to be interesting to see if Project Mirai DX packs the same punch when it hits on the 3DS.