Hey a Nirvana parody! Nobody's ever done that before, right? I do think this is a pretty good homage, however. I committed garage rock sacrilege by plugging the guitars directly into the preamp and doing all the effects in Reason. But hey, I don't have a band, nor do I have a lot of fancy gear, so on the other hand, doing it all myself is about the most punk rock thing one could do, right?
What's that, Master? Is it time for a walk? I will do my best to destroy the harness before you put it on me. Yes, it is firmly ensnared between my jaws, as I intended. This is an amusing game we play, isn't it? You try to tear the harness from my teeth and I clench down as hard as I can. A-hah, you win again. Your fingers are delicate, Master. Let me bite them for you.
Oh, the outside is wonderful, is it not? Is that a frozen cat turd? Why do you restrain me, Master? Do you not know the deliciousness of petrified cat feces? 'Tis a treat unparalleled in the dog world. I must fight you, Master. You do not know what you deny me.
There, a stranger across the street! I will pull you to them, Master! Hurry, hurry, before they flee! Surely they will want to be clawed across the face and will reward me for pouncing upon their person! Why are you screaming? They want to pet me!
All apologies, Master. I am sorry that you fell because I had to lunge suddenly at a soiled taco bell wrapper. Your bruised knees and curses are worth it, I assure you. This wrapper tastes like garbage. Mmmumm, most delicious.
No, no, no, this is not the time to cross the street. I am sniffing here, Master. You don't understand. I detect the faintest whiff of cat urine on this particular spot. I'm sure the car will stop before it hits us. It's a risk I'm willing to take.
What, now that we're home, you don't want to play? Why can't you sacrifice your new shoe to my destructive urges? Well, if you're going to put that one back, I'm going to get another one.
Oh, this bread and plastic taste so good. What, why are you taking them from me? It was on the counter. Fair game, Master! If I can expend every effort to reach it, then I deserve to have a piece. Or the whole loaf.
This couch is not for me, eh? Then why does Mommy let me lie on it? Explain it to me, Master. I am good dog. I'm sure you won't mind if I indulge in a little casual pillow destruction. Mommy won't mind. As I said, I am good dog.
Hey! You there! Moving shadow across the window! Stop I said! Did you see it, Master? Did you see? Something moved over there! Who knows what it could be? We must raise the alarm! Intruder! Intruder!
I swear I saw something, Master. I better raise the alarm again to see if I can flush it out. Why do you berate me so? I'm going to choose to interpret your shouting as joining in with my raising of the alarm. Yes, shout Master! Let them have it! They will never cross our window again!
Oh, this shoe is great. Most delicious! Here, Master. Why don't you have a taste? I will share it with you. If you can take it from me. What a fun game we play.
Another excerpt from The Resurrection, a novel in progress about a former rock star named Mercy Maddock's quest to reunite his band. Here's a link to an early section of the book.
The Great Drive West
They say that California burned down in a great conflagration that swallowed LA and turned multi-million-dollar homes into ash and cinder. No one could afford those homes anyway, and the people who could, couldn’t afford to rebuild. In our collective mind’s eye, California is a paradise of beautiful people frolicking on beaches while skateboards slide down drained aquifers, punk music blaring in the background, emitting from speakers unknown. Cowboys and movie stars and tech giants and the omnipresent sun. It’s far away from the Midwestern reality that many of us know. Contrast that pop image with everlasting fields of corn and tiny towns rotting from the inside out, drugs and trash spilling from their crumbling houses like the disemboweled innards of a famished bovine. It’s not all good, nor is it all bad—I know the truth and the fantasy of both places—but the myth of the West has started to fade, and I wonder if the fires which char its surface are the result of a deal gone bad.
We were on our way to make a bad deal, to sell my soul for a guitar. The landscape flies past the windows as Mercy drives his SUV through the wide open spaces of desert and rock. This much emptiness has enough room to swallow anyone’s soul, although apparently I’m the only one left who has anything to sell. Mercy purchased a Rubik’s Cube for Maggle to fondle, and he’s made real progress with it, having matched the colors on two sides. I’m content to sit and stare through the glass, pondering the hazy mystery of my past, while trying to conjure anything real for the future. Mercy’s fine though—he’s huffing on a vape pen while the stereo plays Otis Redding—tapping out the rhythm on the steering wheel, lost in his quest to get back what he once had.
The thing about the horizon is that if you keep on looking at it, you can see whatever you want. The shimmer and haze, the heat distortion, the curve of the earth. The stark monotony of the landscape. In an arid environment, nature becomes a minimalist. All that space begs for something to fill it, so you must oblige.
What I see is a woman walking through the sand. She’s so far away that I can’t make out her details, but I imagine that her hair is the same sandy blonde of my wife’s. Is she waving? Should we stop and make sure that it’s not a mirage…”
“What if somebody just shot all the rich people?” yells Maggle, tossing his Rubik’s Cube off the dashboard.
“Christ, Maggle, what are you going on about?” says Mercy, as he struggles to keep the car on the road.
“I’m not talking about your healthcare CEOs or that guy on your block that drives a Porsche,” says Maggle. “I’m talking about the super-rich. The guys who have enough money to build rockets and own stretches of Hawaii. The real sonsabitches.”
“That’s a real novel idea you have their, Maggle,” says Mercy. “I’m sure no one has considered it before.”
“The guys who are trying to replace us with computers. The guys who own all the trucks that deliver packages. The guys who ruined the internet. The guys with more money than God or Davy Crockett.”
“Davy Crockett?” I ask.
“Does he mean ‘More money than Croesus?’” asks Mercy.
“Why should we want to kill them, Maggle?” I ask, fearing the answer.
“Because what the fuck are they doing with all that money?” he snarls. “I’m living in a house full of trash. So are my neighbors. You telling me I haven’t worked hard in my life? Well I have, if not lately. But that don’t mean I deserve to live like I do. What about all those people in Africa who can live off of like fifty bucks a month? What about instead of building a giant dick to the Moon, one of those assholes donates half of their fortune? What about instead of buying off the President, that South African rat man stops the world from heating up? How can you have that much money and not do anything good with it?”
“Rubik’s Cube really flummoxed him,” whispers Mercy.
“If I ever win a bunch of money,” says Maggle, voice rising, “I’m gonna buy all the girls on my street new TVs and fancy perfume, and then I’m gonna donate half of it to the town and make ‘em change the name of my street to Maggle Street, and then if I have any left over, I’m buying guns and Scotch for anybody that’ll spend the day with me, just doing whatever I want.”
“That’s kind of sweet and terrifying at the same time, Maggle,” says Mercy.
“They took away our connection to people!” he blubbers, tears beginning to well in his eyes. “You can’t talk to anybody no more! There’s phones in people’s faces, and pretty soon they’ll put them in their brains and nobody will go outside their house and the whole damned mess will collapse like Rome and Athens and Machu Picchu!”
“We’ve got to keep it real, luv. You, me, and Julius,” says Mercy. “If there’s love in this world, then there will always be people.”
“Nobody loves me!” says Maggle, sobbing now.
I reach back and give his shoulder a shake.
“Nobody cares about a fat, middle-aged methhead who lives in trash and talks to rats!”
“I care,” says Mercy.
“You care because you want me to play the piano!”
“Yes, of course. I want to give you a purpose. I want to let you show the world that you still have it.”
“I don’t have it!”
“You do, Maggle. Everyone of us has something to give.”
2024 was mostly a year of doing bodybuilding training with relatively light weights while maintaining my bodyweight at around 185 to 190 lbs. Losing weight earlier in the year really impacted my training. I had to abandon my PR every week strategy, since I couldn't lift anywhere near as much weight as I had been. Throughout the year, I kept my weight loss, although my weight has been creeping upward after the holidays. Being lighter and moving without soreness became more important than doing a deadlift with 405 lbs for 9 reps, for example. For 2025, I'd like to slowly add back some weight and see if I can't start lifting a little heavier. At 39 years old (turning 40 this year!) I know I can still get stronger; I just have to balance the demands of heavy training with middle-age and a physically-demanding lifestyle. We got a puppy last August, which turned out to be a German Shorthaired Pointer in disguise. She's a very active dog that demands multiple walks every day, so I've been doing a lot of walking.
This is my current routine, which I just started a couple weeks ago. It's a bodybuilding/powerlifting split, with plenty of exercise variation and a few heavier lifting days. If I miss a day, I'll just do it the next day.
Sunday: Upperbody hypertrophy
Incline DB press 2x12
Overhand chins 2x10
Chest supported rows 2x12
Curl movement 2x12
Triceps movement 2x12
Monday: Lowerbody hypertrophy/shoulders
High bar squat 3x10 (pyramid progression)
Good mornings 2x12
Abs (crunches or knee raises) 2x12
Side laterals 2x10-12
Upright rows 2x10-12
Tuesday: Light bench/upperbody hypertrophy
Bench Press 3x10 (pyramid progression)
Underhand chins 2x10
Inverted rows 2x10
Curl movement 2x10-12
Triceps movement 2x10-12
Wednesday: Heavier lower body day/shoulders
Low bar squat 4x5 pyramid progression
Deadlift 3x5 pyramid progression
Abs 2x12
Side laterals 2x10-12
Upright rows 2x10-12
Thursday: Heavier Bench Press/upperbody hypertrophy
Bench Press 4x5 pyramid progression
BB rows 3x10-12
Biceps movements 4x10-12
Triceps movements 4x10-12
A simple song about raging against the current. Quite a bit of stratocaster soloing over a minor I-V7-IV vamp. Baby Yoda is caged while John Cena looks on. Such is the way of life.
All it takes is one more scream,
and there goes the hairbrush,
the toaster, the broom
snapped across my knee
like Bo Jackson
splintering a baseball bat
in half.
The dismal daylight,
The constant confines,
The time of year.
I am not who I thought I would be,
and though my love
is like a steel cable drawn taut,
I can’t help but rage against
my circumstances of being.
An instrumental homage to Alternative/Metal groups like Smashing Pumpkins, Tool, and Metallica (basically the shit that is tired now, but cutting edge when I was a kid), The Death of Rock 'n' Roll Is Premature is an atonal collection of riffs focused on E minor and featuring a lot of chromaticism. I tracked three guitars (my strat through my cheap Ibenez Tube Screamer; my strat through the Big Muff with my mini Crybaby Wah in a fixed position; and my Epiphone Dot through the Big Muff), a bass, and then did the drums through Reason with a drum pad. Does it sound perfect? Fuck no! Is it meant to be? Hell no!
Man, what a year for gaming. This year, I played the following 18 titles (an asterisk denotes a title played to completion).
Sunset Overdrive*
Resident Evil 2 (remake)*
Dark Forces Remastered*
Cyberpunk 2077: Phantom Liberty*
Warhammer 40,000:Boltgun*
Helldivers 2 (Multiplayer only)*
Evil West
Doom 2*
Senua's Saga: Hellblade 2*
Alan Wake 2*
Gears of War Ultimate Edition*
Still Wakes The Deep*
Callisto Protocol*
Black Myth: Wukong*
Warhammer 40,000: Space Marine 2*
Ion Fury*
Resident Evil 4(2003 Remake)*
Tomb Raider 1-3 Remastered (Tomb Raider 1 completed*, Tomb Raider 2 about 80 percent finished)
Best Singleplayer Game: Black Myth:Wukong
Black Myth:Wukong is a soulslike based on "The Journey to the West" a seminal work of Chinese literature. Basically, it's Dark Souls, but with Unreal Engine 5 visuals and a compelling bestiary derived from Chinese mythology. This game challenged my reflexes, but in the end, I managed to complete it, defeating all of its hardest bosses (Yellow Long was tough, but nothing compared to Erlang, who I defeated purely with dumb luck). The opening forest is a visual feast, and every chapter has a different environment, from dry, sandy deserts and mountains, to icy woods and temples, to lava baked fields and celestial clouds. A compelling mix of exploration, soulslike combat, and incredible graphics, Black Myth:Wukong is my pick for best single player game of the year. If you enjoyed Elden Ring, Wukong is right up your alley.
Best Walking Simulator: Still Wakes The Deep
A Game Pass gem, Still Wakes The Deep tells the story of a Scottish oil rig that's dug too deep, unleashing a cosmic horror that turns humans into monsters resembling the beast in John Carpenter's The Thing. Much has been made of Unreal Engine 5's graphical horsepower, as well as its performance issues, but Still Wakes The Deep looks great and also runs without any stuttering. It's short, and gameplay consists of quicktime event platforming, light exploration, and hiding from monsters that can instantly kill you. It's not as visually impressive as Hellblade 2 (another Game Pass walking simulator) but its story is more compelling, focusing on themes of sacrifice, hope, and dealing with your demons. A definite treat for horror fans, Still Wakes the Deep is worth playing through its six or so hours.
Best Remaster: Tomb Raider 1-3
The first three Tomb Raider games are puzzle/platformers that have their warts. Tank controls take getting used to, and even after you've mastered them, Lara will still die often because you've accidentally stepped off a ledge or mistimed a jump. Still, the puzzles and exploration are great, even if the combat isn't. Lara is basically a sexy mishmash of James Bond and Indiana Jones, and although the reboot trilogy is good, it doesn't quite capture the tone or replicate the unique gameplay of the original three games. The remaster updates the graphics while keeping the level design the same, making it the best way to play on console and modern hardware. Honorable mention goes out to Dark Forces: Remastered, which is also very well done, yet lacks the value of Tomb Raider (I've already spent 46 hours beating just Tomb Raider 1 and making most of my way through Tomb Raider 2, while TR 3 and the expansion packs await).
Best Indie: Neon White
Unlike the other games on this list, Neon White was released in 2022, not 2024. Another Game Pass title, it's a speed-running, first-person shooter/platformer, with dating sim elements in-between missions. You play as a Neon, a damned soul plucked from the abyss by Heaven to cleanse the beyond of its demon problem. Along the way, you'll have to reconstruct your past relationships with your fellow Neons and discover the truth about what's happened to Heaven. There are some anime tropes, but the animation is good, and I actually enjoyed the plot, despite some cringey beats. Gameplaywise, I was so taken with Neon White's speedrunning that I replayed all the levels in order to find all the secrets and get the fastest time. Probably my runner-up for single player game of the year.
Best Multiplayer Game/Best Game of the Year: Helldivers 2
Unlike some of my friend group, I haven't played 1000 hours of Helldivers 2. I have, however, spent over 140 hours in game, and its various complexities and team-focused gameplay have kept it compelling long after the initial shine has worn off. Developers Arrowhead have constantly added content, from new Warbonds (mini battle passes that you can spend in-game currency on) to new enemies and factions, and it's hard to believe that this game was only released this year. Sure, there have been some bumps in the road, but it seems as though Arrowhead has finally embraced the community's vision for the game, and the result has been a large, loyal community that's one of the better in online gaming. Helldivers 2 is pretty much the perfect game to spend an hour or two with your buddies killing Terminids (giant insect aliens similar to the bugs from Starship Troopers) or Automatons (Terminator-like cyborgs). The ability to call in powerful stratagems like the 380 mm Walking Barrage or Eagle 500 kg transform the battlefield into a chaotic storm of fire and bombast. Add in the literally hundreds of loadout combinations you can choose, from weapons like the Autocannon to accessories like a shield backpack or a guarddog rover, and you have a multiplayer horde shooter that you can really sink your teeth into.
The OG Tomb Raider is a classic and by far and away the best of the original trilogy. Having played Tomb Raider 3 back in the day, I knew how hard it was, and that its difficulty was controversial at the time (one reviewer claimed that it seemed like the game had been designed to sell the strategy guide). Tomb Raider 2, I'd missed, and after enjoying Tomb Raider, I went on to the next game. Right from the start, the Great Wall of China level tries to kill you with trap after trap, demanding instantaneous reactions, lest you end up pinned to a spiked wall or sliced to bits from a giant rotating blade. "Ah, so they upped the ante and assumed you'd played the first game," I thought. "I'm up to the challenge." Several hours later, however, after having plodded through the Wreck of the Maria Doria levels, I'm not sure that I am. The problem is that Core seems to have thought what Tomb Raider 2 needed was more combat, perhaps in response to the popularity of Resident Evil. So they filled the levels with human enemies that can tank several bullets and who have unflinching accuracy that no amount of gymnastic maneuvering can escape. I started entering rooms with my Uzis drawn, just so I had a fighting chance. A majority of the traps, of which there are a ton, have no environmental clue as to what triggers them. You can slide down a slope and fall into a pit of spikes, and the only way you could have avoided such a fate was to slide down the slope backwards. This is Dark Souls, but with puzzles, traps, and unfair enemy placement. What makes Tomb Raider 2 even worse is its bad section of middle levels. Who the fuck wants to explore an oil rig, especially when said rig is just a winding collection of corridors? The concept of the undersea levels is really cool, but every level is a maze of rust and flooded sections full of sharks and giant eels that are unresponsive to any harpoons you manage to embed in their flesh. While it is certainly impressive that they managed to churn out a full sequel to Tomb Raider in only a year, the rushed development shows. Despite adding vehicles, more varied levels, and more weapons, Tomb Raider 2 is a slog, at least so far. I'm really yearning for the China and Tibet levels, which are supposed to be its best. I know Tomb Raider 3 is hard, but at least Lara visits interesting locations for its entire run time.
The photo mode is freaking cool, though.
Luigi was very handsome.
He looked like the kind of guy
Who could weave amongst a flock of girls
And tell them how he was the choice of the room;
The crème de la crème,
A tall cool glass of water,
The big cheese.
But he wrapped a hood around his head like a bag
And shot a man he didn’t know in the back
Like he was judge, jury, and executioner.
When you shoot a man
Make sure you look him in the eye
Otherwise, how can you see his soul
Leaving his body and reckon
with what you have done?
Were we finding our voice
With a murder in the street?
Or were we lashing out
Like a toddler unsure of what he wants to hit?
I dunno about you
but I don’t care about all that.
A myth is a story that we create and believe
Even when our eyes tell us
That we aren’t seeing the truth.
Prison isn’t where you should be, Luigi
But you’re not God.
Let’s not all lose hope.
A deranged man named Luigi Mangione (can you get any more Italian?) shot United Healthcare CEO Brian Thompson and the internet is thrilled, with the sentiment ranging from "good" to "let's kill them all." That was the consensus on Reddit in right (r/Conservative) and left-leaning (r/Politics) circles, as well as the comments at Defector, which lean very liberal. It seems that people believe Mangione did something heroic in murdering a man by shooting him in the back with a 3D-printed pistol and then making a quick get-away by E-Bike. After evading capture for a couple days, Mangione was apprehended in a McDonalds with the gun and a manifesto on his person, more or less ending speculation that he was some sort of criminal genius. The myth of him as a working class hero was also dispelled; turns out that Mangione was part of a wealthy Baltimore family that possessed a multi-million dollar real estate empire, and he attended the University of Pennsylvania. Still, the hero worship has not ended--Mangione was revealed to be very handsome--and I don't really see any signs of public sentiment souring on the killer.
I'm not claiming to have any special sympathy for Thompson, or the CEOs of predatory businesses like healthcare companies. I don't think that's a job you can do with a clean conscience, not when so many people are denied life-saving care that they've paid for. Still, is vigilante justice what we need? Do we really want more people like Mangione executing people in the street for perceived crimes? Thompson may have been a piece of shit, but was he doing anything illegal? When people support Mangione, they're advocating for anarchy and mob justice. I don't know if you're familiar with the French Revolution and the Reign of Terror, but it didn't turn out great for the common people.
The sad irony of people supporting Mangione is that America just elected Donald Trump to the Presidency, with Republicans winning both chambers of Congress. During his first term, Trump's efforts to repeal the Affordable Care Act failed in the Senate by one vote, and the Senator who cast that decisive vote is now deceased. Americans are obviously very angry about their health coverage in this country, but they seem unable to connect the dots and figure out the source of the problem. Trump's new government efficiency czars (twin billionaire sociopaths Musk and Ramaswamy) are planning to advocate cuts to Medicare, although that might be dead on arrival. Biden's Inflation Reduction Act capped drug prices, and a Harris administration was planning on shoring up the ACA, decreasing drug prices, and tackling medical debt. None of that stuff was a sexy as deporting illegal immigrants or doing random fascist stuff, though, and now Americans will have to prepare for an incoming administration that will almost certainly work toward making their healthcare worse.
Hey a Nirvana parody! Nobody's ever done that before, right? I do think this is a pretty good homage, however. I committed garage rock...
