Writer's Block: The Death of Art

 

The Death of Art

“I am sorry my friends, but it is high time that we proclaimed the death of art. Many times before have prognosticators predicted its demise—indeed, it seems every generation has its share of doomsayers—but there can be no doubt that our current era is art’s last. It is interesting to me that it was not censors or commercialism that delivered the deathblow, as many have predicted. What is killing art, and what will be its ultimate doom, is our collective attention deficit disorder. Let me explain before you regulate my argument to the waste bin.”

“Do you see that electronic device you are staring at? Yes, the mobile computer in your hands. That is the instrument through which your attention span has been decimated. You comb through your social media, click on whatever content that engages your immediate attention, and then watch it for a few seconds before moving on to something else. That his how you primarily experience media. Is it natural to have your attention stimulated in such a frequent manner thorough the utilization of algorithmic content engineered by professionals to commandeer your brain? Of course it is not. You don’t remember what you see, you simply yearn for the next piece of disposable content. And content is what it is—media designed to be consumed like a buffet spread, with only the choicest bits being eaten before the rest is discarded.”

“We don’t go to the cinema anymore, nor do we open up books or purchase a record. We watch whatever is streaming on various services, and it is background noise to be partially heard while we stare at our phones. Books require too much time and attention, and their immediate payoff is limited, so we shun them as antiquated and outdated methods of entertainment. Music is also something to be heard as ambiance, and so we listen to whatever the algorithm selects. Their is no choice in the matter, for we have delegated all of our decision-making to the machines, which in turn enslave us in a mindless search for dopamine stimulation.”

“If you doubt my thesis, let me ask you this: Where are the icons of our decade? Where is our Gertrude Stein, Picasso, Marlon Brando, or Miles Davis? Do we even have an equivalent to George Lucas? Eminem? Madonna? Where is the next Bob Dylan or Frida Kahlo? Do we even have a Snoop Dog? No, we do not. We have the vestiges of the past, exhumed and reanimated to perform for all time until all value has been extracted from their zombified remains. Nothing today has staying power because we can’t pay attention, and we are assaulted at all times with new content that takes the place of art.”

“It is not that art is not still being made. There are brilliant musicians, painters, writers, and film makers out there plying their trade. Yet they have not the means to achieve icon status because the monoculture that existed prior to the advent of the smartphone and the great fracturing of the internet does not exist to elevate them to that status. There is no system in place, no army of critics or even uncultured masses to bear witness to an artist’s greatness. Instead, the monolithic tech companies control what we see through the devices that they made us believe we must have. It goes far beyond art, actually. Do you think we could have had Donald Trump as President twice without our forty-five second attention spans? Just as there is no way for a piece of art to have staying power in the modern ecosystem, there is no way for a scandal to ferment and develop like Watergate. The President can investigate his enemies with the Justice Department while taking in a billion dollars in crypto assests while Americans die to ICE agents and farmers loses their farms due to increases in nitrogen prices due to Trump’s nonsensical Iran war. None of it lingers in the public consciousness because the public consciousness has been destroyed. Does anyone remember the Ukraine blackmail? The Muslim Ban? Covid? January 6^th?”

“What will the future bring? Technological despotism? What happens to a society that has killed art? With the arrival of artificial intelligence, art will be devalued even more. If you can create a movie or a piece of music with a simple prompt, will you care what others have created through more honest means? Music and movies have already faded to background noise. What do we lose when we don’t make things that speak to the human condition? AI can’t tell me what it means to be a human being. Will we even know how to be human beings in the future? Or will we be rats running on a wheel, chasing a block of cheese that we can never fully enjoy?”

 
“What do you want your children to learn? Do you want them to run outside and play? Do you want them to read and make imaginary games and listen to music? Or do you want them to stare unceasingly with eyes fixated to a screen? Because the death of art will affect them greatly. They will lose hope and imagination. They will not be able to think critically or understand their surroundings. They will grow stupid and lazy and despondent. Gradually, we will become extinct because a civilization incapable of art is a civilization incapable of existence. The death of art will herald the death of man.”

“So what can we do to prevent this downfall? Is it hopeless? We cannot will a smartphone out of everyone’s hand. But we can start by paying attention to things, from politics to music to what’s going on outside our window. We can stop letting our entertainment decisions be made by algorithms and instead actively search out new experiences. We can personally shun the smartphone dependence and try to teach such habits to our children. We can…”

“Alright, I think I’ve earned my ten dollars,” said the man.

“Wait a minute,” said the speaker. “I had just reached my conclusion.”

 “I’m not listening to anymore of this bullshit,” said the man. “I got a bus to catch.”

“Did I reach you? Were you convinced?” asked the speaker.

“I don’t care,” said the man. “I wasn’t really listening.”

The bus pulled up to the stop, and the man held out his hand expectantly. With a great sigh, the speaker took out his wallet.

Writer's Block: The State of the Nation

 

The State of The Nation

“Welcome to Graham Grahamson’s State of the Nation, where we discuss all of the political news of the week. This is my co-host Kathy Kelly.”

“Great to be here, Graham.”

“And let me also introduce former Conservative political adviser Craig Kolstein, author of Where Is My Country? Can you Find It? and host of the Straight Talk podcast, available on all the major platforms. How are you today, Craig?”

“I’m doing just swell, Graham. Really eager to get into the new developments of the week.”

“Alright. First, let’s discuss the events of KPAC, where the President had a set back this week when he attempted to seize a child in the audience and drag him backstage.”

“Oh boy. This is a doozy.”

“Frankly, I think you’re correct here, Craig. I can’t see how absconding with a small child helps the President’s political agenda.”

“It must be mentioned that onlookers at the event said that the President made several comments indicating that he planned on taking the child in question backstage with the purpose of draining said child of his bodily fluids and consuming his flesh.”

“That’s really pushing it, Graham. In the interest of impartiality, I don’t think you can repeat such ridiculous statements.”

“There’s apparently a recording, Craig.”

“For the record, KPAC have denied the allegations that the President intended to harm the child and have stated that any recording of the event played without the express consent of KPAC is forbidden and subject to legal action.”

“Well the President is certainly known for being impulsive. He’s not a typical politician.”

“This is just ammo for his critics, who are pushing the grotesque slander that the President is not entirely human.”

“Could you extrapolate further on that, Craig?”

“I don’t think it’s really my place to repeat them…”

“He certainly doesn’t show up much in the daytime.”

“That’s correct, Kelly, the President has yet to give a daytime appearance while the sun is still high in the sky.”

“What are you suggesting, Kelly? Come on. Don’t be afraid to say it.”

“Look, I’m not suggesting anything. I do think it is curious that the President seems to abhor the sunlight.”

“The man has a skin condition! You’re really going to buy into these rumors?”

“In other news, Secretary of War Pug Kegley said in a press conference yesterday that the war with the Vatican would soon be over. America troops seized control of the city-state Friday night. Critics of the administration have questioned the need for a military conflict with the Church, but officials claim that the Pope was harboring nuclear materials and planned on distributing them to terrorist groups.”

“Where’s the evidence? That’s what I want to know.”

“Look, the Pope and the President have been feuding all year, starting with the Pope’s comments criticizing the administration’s immigration policy. This is an unconventional President, one prone to battling it out in the arena with his critics, and while I don’t think any military action against the Church was warranted, I do think the Pope should have been careful with his comments. Look, he’s the vicar of Christ. He’s supposed to be above politics.”

“You think the Pope was wrong to speak out against the President’s detainment camps?”

“Yes, I do, Kelly. I don’t really think it’s his place.”

“There are substantial allegations that the people taken to these camps never come back, Craig. There are also photos circulating that appear to show mass burials.”

“Do you believe everything you see? Hell, half the videos on the internet are completely fabricated with AI. I think we have to take any claims of so-called ‘death-camps’ with a grain of salt. Could this administration be a little more transparent? Sure, I’d like that. Does that mean they’re harvesting illegal immigrants and sucking their blood? Now you’re talking crazy.”

“Alright. Well it’s time for our weekly voter check-in, where we interview an average Joe and ask them their opinion on the state of the nation. This week we have Mr. Lawrence White from Hillsboro, Ohio. How are you today, Lawrence?”

“I’m doing okay, Craig.”

“What is your opinion of the President’s war with the Vatican?”

“It’s stupid, Craig, just plain stupid. I’m still reeling from his last war. Gas prices are unaffordable, and most of my paycheck is spent at the grocery store. I can barely pay my mortgage! They’re also laying folks off at my warehouse left and right. What we have now is a country in crisis. It’s not what I voted for.”

“Did you vote for the President, Mr. White?”

“I did. Three times! You know, during his first administration, when the Blood Plague was running rampant, I didn’t blame the President. This country needs strong bio-weapons, and cuts during Stollmeyer’s Presidency really opened the door for a disaster. And then when Cortez won and the Blood Horde overran the Capital, I think the media really did the country a disservice by calling all of those patriots ‘monsters.’ But the President has lost focus. He’s not thinking about the red-blooded Americans who voted him into office two years ago.”

“What do you make, Mr. White, of the allegations that at KPAC the President tried to apprehend a small child and drag him away?”

“I don’t like it, Craig. The President ran on meat and potato issues like the price of eggs. What was he going to do to that kid back there? There’s a substantial portion of his base that want him to release the government’s files on human trafficker Count Orlok. But he won’t. He’s stonewalling us, and I don’t understand it.”

“You do realize that the President and Count Orlok were close friends? It’s been alleged that the President’s own name shows up in those documents over two-thousand times.”

“Yeah, I just don’t know, Craig. None of it makes any sense. The President said he was going to do something about all the illegal immigrants running around committing crimes, but agents came to my warehouse and grabbed my buddy Hernando, who was a good family man, and we haven’t seen him since.”

“What would you say to the President, if you could?”

“I’d tell him to get back to focusing on the working class. I voted for him because he was a tough guy, a business man who didn’t talk like a normal politician. Sure, some of the stuff he said was kind of vulgar, but we needed that in Washington. Too many people were afraid to say what they think. I think he needs to abandon turning the east wing of the White House into a mausoleum and do something about gas prices.”

“Thank you, Mr. White. That concludes our voter check-in segment. What do you think of what Mr. White said, Craig?”

“I think he was right on the money. The President needs to stop being distracted by children and right the ship and focus on the economy.”

“Kelly?”

“I guess I want to ask Mr. White why he continued to vote for the President despite all of the calamitous events that seem to follow in his wake.”

“Very good. Let’s close the show by briefly covering a comment made by former President Cortez yesterday at a fundraiser for her struggling Labor Party. I would like to warn our viewers that offensive language was used. Mrs. Cortez said to the media in attendance that ‘Somebody needs to do something about that fucking vampire in the Oval Office.” What do you think of Mrs. Cortez’s comment, Craig?”

“Completely uncalled for, Graham. Just deplorable. It seems to me that she’s advocating violence against the President, and I expect repercussions. You just can’t make a comment like that, not in today’s volatile political environment. I think the President would be completely in his rights to seek legal recourse against Mrs. Cortez utilizing all the power of the Justice Department.”

“Kelly?”

“Mrs. Cortez calls them like she sees them. What I want to know is…”

“I’m sorry, we’re all out of time. Catch us next week on Graham Grahamson’s State of the Nation. Thank you for watching. Goodnight.”

Video Game Review: Resident Evil Requiem

 

Resident Evil Requiem is Capcom's attempt to reconcile the various types of gameplay the series is known for. The first third or so of the game is a tense survival horror experience that evokes creeping around the Police Station in Resident Evil 2, albeit from a first person perspective like Resident Evil Village. The rest of the game is more akin to Leon Kennedy's adventures in Resident Evil 4. Both parts are great, however the earlier sequences involving Grace, a stammering FBI agent way out of her depth, are the stand out sections. Having been assigned to investigate a disappearance in the same hotel her mother was killed in (man, what a dick her boss must be), Grace finds herself kidnapped and taken to a crumbling hospital full of freshly-turned zombies and grotesque monsters that defy description. The Girl, a giant hag that tries to get the drop on you from vent shafts, in our Mr. X-like big bad. The Girl is creepy as hell, and she thunders around and wheezes through the darkened ruins, making circumnavigating her quite the thrill. She is heavily indebted in behavior to Alien Isolation's xenomorph, but there are no desks or lockers to hide inside, which is disappointing. As you wander through the hospital, you'll collect tools to help you unlock more of the place, and you'll struggle to manage your inventory. Every run outside the safe room is like a survival expedition, and it's classic Resident Evil. So when the game basically turns into Fallout 3: Leon Kennedy Edition, you might be a tad disappointed. It's not that these parts are bad--I actually really enjoyed upgrading Leon's arsenal while headshotting zombies--it's just such a difference from the earlier sections with Grace that it'll likely feel discombobulating. However, Leon's parts have their own highlights, including a tense climb through a falling apart skyscraper that evokes the bridge section from Half-Life 2.

Graphically, Resident Evil Requiem is a Triple-A title that earns its budget. Ray-tracing is used to great effect, and lights reflect convincingly on gleaming surfaces. All together, it's a really nice-looking game. I did encounter some stuttering during the Racoon City parts, but turning down Mesh Quality to low fixed it, and visuals didn't noticeably suffer.

Requiem is good, but it's about a fifteen hour game that lacks replay value and whose best parts come early. If you're a veteran of the series, it's probably worth it, but if you're looking for more than a mid-length single player adventure, then perhaps wait for a discount.

 

    

Writer's Block: A Poem For My Son

 

A Poem For My Son

My Love is a faint, fair thing

Cast out like the stars

Scattering across the sky

It twinkles when I remember

How I held you in my arms

A little breathing life

Curly-haired,

Writhing,

Too large to be rocked to sleep.

Yet we did it

And you fought.

And now

A decade past,

I look back at those scattered stars

And wonder where it went

My baby

I will always love you

No matter how time

Tears us apart.

Thoughts on Metroid Prime Remastered

 

Metroid Prime Remastered is the first Nintendo game I've ever completed. In short, it was a bit of a slog but fun over all. Here are my pros and cons of Metroid Prime.

Pros:

Exploring a well-developed world. A Switch remaster of a 2002 Gamecube title, Metroid Prime feels fairly modern in its world design. Samus must battle the various flora and fauna of Tallon IV as well as Space Pirates and mutated Metroids, and traversing the varied environments, from the dusty temples of Chozo Ruins to the frozen wastes of Phendrana Drifts feels natural while still being well-crafted. The Switch isn't powerful by modern standards, but the artistic design holds up, and I found myself appreciating the graphics.

Getting Upgrades Is Fun. Metroid games are all about getting suit and weapon upgrades that allow you to return to previous areas and unlock new ones, and Prime does this very well. It was always thrilling to get a new upgrade like the jump boots or plasma beam. Samus's armor feels like a real battle suit, with its various vision modes and the Morph Ball, which is used mostly for easy but cool platforming sections.

This Isn't a Normal FPS. Metroid Prime's gameplay is a blend of platforming, environmental exploration, and first-person combat. The left trigger locks on to enemies, so aim isn't a factor. Avoiding enemy attacks by jumping while cycling through your arm cannon weapons is what's important. Usually I detest platforming in first person games (Neon White being a huge exception) but I didn't miss many jumps in Metroid. Scanning enemies and figuring out what weapon works best is also crucial. In the late game, many Space Pirates will only be vulnerable to specific arm cannon modes. So gameplay is more complex than just pointing and shooting.

Cons:

Old Game Design Conventions Crop Up. No fast travel is a bit of a pain when you must traverse half of the map in order to find all of the Chozo Artifacts so that you can defeat the final bosses. Also, save points are few and far between. While I enjoyed the final boss fights against Meta Ridley and Metroid Prime, I could have used a save point right before each battle.

I Don't Think I Would Have Finished This Game Without a Walkthrough. Metroid Prime isn't terribly difficult, but man is it an artifact from a different time. The locations of some of the Chozo Artifacts, all twelve of which you need in order to fight the final bosses, are obscure to say the least. The one in the magma levels was literally hidden inside a pillar that you had to look at with your x-ray vision mode. To find another, you have to climb atop a not obviously accessible room, shoot a radar dish in an inaccessible area of the map so that it falls down and creates a hole that you can roll into with the Morph Ball. How you would have figured how to find the aforementioned artifacts without using a guide, I have no idea.

Do I recommend Metroid Prime Remastered? I think it's a cool entry point to a classic franchise as long as you're willing to use a walkthrough. If you want to keep your gamer cred and go into it blind, do so at your own risk.  

Writer's Block: The Voiding

 

The Voiding

Behold! Here we have a neighborhood just like any other in future America. Look at this house, with its peeling skin of flesh-colored siding revealing the rotten frame beneath. The truck in front is a rusted hunk of metal leaking black crude slowly onto the pavement to congeal in the storm drain like drying blood. The wind blows and rustles the garbage on the sidewalk, giving flight to plastic bags and paper wrappers. If you stand and watch the windows, you see nothing but darkness, no matter how long you linger. In the back yard, playground equipment sags askew, the tangled chains of a swing moving slightly in the breeze. You think of the little people who should be out there, swinging in the sunlight, giving voice to their merriment, but there is no sign that they exist anymore.

Across the street lies a school, its teal windows shut and locked. A robot kicks on suddenly, a small disk-shaped thing that resembles a pill bug, and it begins its systematic routine, cutting grass almost silently like the ghostly spirit of past janitors long ago replaced. A raccoon rummages in a trashcan only to emerge empty-handed; it considers the robot for a few moments before scurrying down the street, brazen in its lack of fear. You observe the pill bug—maybe it will finally die after all of these years—but it keeps on going somehow, a vestige of a more living past.

What is the past you think as your boots tread the split sidewalk. It is your memory—it lives in your imagination, in the pictures and emotions you carry inside your mind. It is the state of death, of things lost and consumed, and it is supposed to be dead but you see it as you walk through the neighborhood, witnessing the signs. Suddenly in the window of a derelict house you see light flickering on, so you stop and peer through the dusty panes of glass. From what you can see, the carpet is the color of mold, mossy with decay, the recliner with its back you similarly discolored and diseased. A flat panel mounted onto the wall has turned on, triggered, perhaps, by your passing. A human face moves on the screen—oh my god, she looks so young you think—her ruby lips parting to mouth words you cannot hear or understand. You stand transfixed by this golden-hair siren. She has an object in her hands, a little piece of plastic, and she keeps gesticulating toward it as though touting its obvious benefits. What can she be attempting to convey to you? You don’t understand. Around you is the dead dream of a million minds and this is the specter they send? You can’t accept that it is meaningless, that everything around you moves only to decay. You pounds on the glass and shout. What is that voice? Why does it cause the hairs to stand up on your neck? Have you awoken the dead? Will they come seeking vengeance?

As fast as you can you flee, the echo of your own steps in pursuit.

Video Game Review: Slay The Spire 2 (Early Access)

 

Slay The Spire 2 is the sequel to one of my favorite games of all time. Mega Crit have kept the formula the same--this is an iterative sequel to the deck-building rougelike original--but there's enough new variety to keep things fresh and just as addictive as the first game. The Ironclad, Silent, and Defect return, along with new characters the Necrobinder and the Regent. New cards have been added for the original trio along with a new mechanic for each. For example, the Silent now draws cards that have Sly, which means if they are discarded, they play for free. This makes drawing and discarding really powerful for her, along with the usual Shiv and Poison cards. The Defect has new Glass orbs that damage all enemies but lose power quickly and are not affected by Focus. Losing health is now very powerful for the Ironclad in conjunction with Rupture because there are so many cards that lose HP now, making Rupture the main way to quickly gain strength. As for the new characters, the Necrobinder is my favorite and perhaps the most powerful. She has a minion named Osty who takes hits for her as well as deals out damage. The Necrobinder can play cards that have Summon which gain health for Osty, and many of its damage cards increase their output based on its health. She also has a mechanic called Doom, which accumulates like Poison, but instead of taking health off per turn, Doom will only kill an enemy when it fills up the enemy's health bar. The Regent can Forge a Cosmic Sword to do increasing damage, as well as mine another resource called Stars. He's been my toughest character to master so far, as I've found his cards to be rather feast or famine.

    As for the game's progression, it's still a roguelike with three acts, with the final fourth act still in development. The first act can vary between a jungle and a seaside dock, with six possible bosses, while the second act takes place in a desert, and the third in the experimental halls of the Spire. I've found most of the bosses pretty good. My least favorite is the Queen, who binds many of your cards, letting you only play one per turn. The improved animation and effects are very welcome, and unlike the original, Slay the Spire 2 is a pretty game, even if you could run it on anything. Groups of enemies are more frequent, making it important to choose cards that hit everybody at once. There are more varied random encounters and way more enemies in all. The balance seems really good so far, although a few enemies, like the Hunter Killer that turns up in act two, could probably use a nerf or get turned into Elites. There's a ton of content here, far more than the first game. Having beat the third act with every character, I can say that for twenty-five dollars, I don't think you'll play a better game this year. I say this as someone who had no experience with deck builders before playing Slay the Spire. Don't even watch the trailer--just get this game. 

  

Writer's Block: Eat The Rich

 

Eat The Rich Before They Eat You

Bill Isenburg entered his suite and let out a sigh. It had been a long day full of virtual meetings, and the extended luncheon with the Prime Minister of Sweden had exhausted his energies, which he had been unable to recover even after an hour long massage and top-off. A quick glance into the bedroom revealed his wife resting on the enormous bed, her voluptuous figure almost a caricature, a living cartoon. There was no point at this stage of his life denying what he wanted—he wanted everything and he wanted more of it—and when he had married her after leaving his first wife, he’d saw no reason to keep the straight-laced stiff image. He was the richest man in the world, so why not act like it? He was currently wearing a pair of leather pants and a leopard-patterned swinger shirt that billowed around his muscled physique, enhanced the last few years through testosterone replacement therapy and weight-training. What he needed right now was a little bit of a nap or maybe some cocaine, but first he’d choke down a health elixir made from kale and protein powder and then he’d have a little drink and make a decision on whether he wanted to continue the night or wind down.

Having managed to finish the disgusting concoction and then retreated to the bar, he was in the process of pouring himself a long shot of Scotch when he felt the distinct feeling of being observed. He knew instinctively that it was not his wife, so as subtly as he could he tried to push the emergency button on his smart watch. A cold, clammy hand clamped down on his, extraordinary strong, and he suddenly felt himself being launched into the air to land hard on the floor. The ceiling seemed to rock back and forth, and Isenburg felt himself being lifted again, this time into a chair where someone bound his hands with cord behind his back.

“That’s good. Now you can’t cause any trouble,” said a woman’s voice.

Looking across into the bar’s mirror, Isenburg saw nobody, even though the woman sounded as though she was right behind him.

“Who are you?” he asked, spitting blood out of his mouth.

“Don’t spit anymore blood out,” she said, her voice straining. “I can’t stand it, and this will be over quicker than it should.”

“The code to the safe is 8745,” he said. “There’s a lot of cash in there, along with a pistol. Just take it and leave.”

“I don’t want any money,” she said, laughing. “Those days are over, unfortunately. Would’ve come in handy in the past, of course. But I don’t need your bloody cash now.”

“Why can’t I see you?” he asked.

“Oh you want to see me, huh? I’ll let you have a glimpse.”

She swung her head in front of his, and Isenburg pushed back into his chair in shock. Her hair was matted and wet, and her skin was as ghastly pale as a corpse, but her eyes were vivid red and her teeth were sharp and protruding like the fangs of a predatory beast.

“I didn’t know if I could come aboard this ship, this ridiculous super yacht, but apparently no invitation was required. This doesn’t qualify as a home, I suppose. Who makes these rules? Hell if I know. There’s so much I don’t know, though.”

“What do you want?” Isenburg asked.

“What do I want? Beside peace, love, and understanding? I want to go back in time. That’s what most people would really want, not all of this ostentatious, vulgar wealth. They’d want to go back in time when they could fix things. But that’s not possible, not unless you got a time machine around here. You don’t, do you, Bill? At this point, I’d believe almost anything.”

He wondered suddenly if she knew about his wife in the next room. He must have glanced that way, since her eyes looked toward the bedroom before returning to focus on him.

“Oh don’t worry about her. She’s taking a long nap. She’ll be out for a while. I mean a long time.”

She smiled then, and Isenburg wondered what was wrong with this woman and what sort of bizarre dental surgery surgery she must have undertaken to have such a toothy denture.

“Do you care about her, Bill, or is she just another object to possess? A fetish in more than one sense? How much did all those enhancements cost? Pocket change for somebody like you, right?”

“Listen, there are hidden cameras and microphones in this room recording all of this. You don’t have much time. Just leave and they might not shoot you on sight.”

“Again with the negotiating, Bill! I’m not one of your corporate whores to be tossed scraps like a dog. Your security team is in pretty bad shape. Some of them are suffering from torn limbs, broken necks, loss of bodily fluids. What you need to be worried about right now is yourself, not me.”

She grabbed a chair and pulled it in front of him, and sat down, hunched forward. He could see the stained blood all over her fingers and the front of her tattered white shirt. She stared at him with those red eyes and again revealed all of her jagged teeth.

“Let me tell you my story. We have time. I was once a dutiful little software engineer plugging away at one of your subsidiaries. I was one of the people that kept your web server business running. Long hours but good pay. Nice benefits. A profit making branch of your massive conglomerate. So I’d been working for years, missed many a birthday, lost a couple relationships, but I’d stuck by the job and my performance review was coming up. We just had a successful roll out of the new cloud hosting servers, and I expected to be well-compensated. I had a nice little house picked out in one of the best suburbs in San Francisco. My boyfriend, who was also a computer engineer, was planning on proposing that night. What I’d worked hard for, what I’d sacrificed my youth for, was about to bear fruit. I walked into that review confident, radiant, smiling from ear to ear like an idiot. I see that manager sitting across from me, a dour expression on his face, and my confidence slips, but just a little. There was no way I wasn’t getting promoted. But then he opens his mouth and says ‘I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to let you go.’ ‘What?’ I exclaim. ‘It’s has nothing to do with your performance,” he explains. “We’re letting the entire senior engineering team go. Orders from up top. They think that the language-learning machines can do your job. Frankly, I don’t agree, but you know how it is.’”

“I did not know how it was, Bill. I knew that they were replacing people with AI, but I didn’t think it would come for me, not in my moment of triumph. As I walked home that evening, I got a call from the hospital. My boyfriend had also been fired, and in his dejection, he had neglected to pay attention when he crossed the street. He died before I could even get to him. And guess what? His company was also a subsidiary of yours, Bill! I didn’t even realize it until after he died. Do you know who issued the vast directive to destroy the lives of hard-working people like my boyfriend and I? You, Bill Isenberg! You and your billionaire cronies who need more money even though you're richer than literal nations.”

She placed one of her lean, emaciated hands on Isenburg’s bald pate.

“I always wanted to do this,” she admitted, rubbing his head. “Do you think there’s any luck for me? Or is it all for you? After being fired and losing my partner, I drove out to the Golden Gate bridge in the early morning and planned to jump into those icy waters. I parked near one of those old World War Two gun bunkers that line the hillsides around the Bay. I was just starting to walk toward the bridge when I saw someone in the derelict fortification. I just noticed his hand, long and skeletal like these” —she held up her claws—“the first two fingers pinching a cigarette, which glowed in the early darkness of the morning. A suicidal urge made me approach. Maybe it would be better, I thought, to be strangled inside a bunker rather than flail in the cold darkness of the Bay. But he didn’t strangle me. When I looked at him, I could tell what he was. He saw I was desperate, and he made me into what you would call a monster. Do you know what a revenant is, Bill? It’s an undead, vengeful spirit. I am the vengeance of all the people you’ve fucked over in your ridiculous life. Did you really think you could live so large and leave so little for the rest of us? Did you think one man was meant to hold the power and wealth that you possess? You break all of the natural laws of the universe. And so I guess it’s time that we do so as well.”

She opened her mouth of jagged teeth and cold, festering death poured out onto Bill Isenberg’s face. But I’m so rich he thought as she eased closer toward him. I can never die.

The door burst open and Isenberg saw something emerge from the monster’s torso. Is that a stake? She slumped forward, red eyes wide with surprise. A faint death croak whispered something that he didn’t bother to hear as he shook her off of him with disgust.

“Christ, what took you so long?” he complained. “Untie me.”

A hulking security officer walked toward him, brandishing a crossbow. In a moment, he had freed Isenburg, and the billionaire stood up, massaging his wrists.

“Apologies, sir. She incapacitated most of our team. Thankfully, we had a prior warning from our intelligence branch that a vampire was targeting men of your economic stature.”

He displayed the crossbow but Isenberg had no interest in examining it.

“Vampire? What do we do with it?”

“It’ll have to be decapitated and burned,” said the officer. “Are you all right, sir? Did she bite you?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “We’re not going to dispose of the body. I want her secured and taken to one of our science labs. I’ll make the calls. You just make sure she can’t escape.”

He watched as the security officer put the vampire in handcuffs and dragged her from his quarters. Isenberg went back to the bar and poured himself a nice shot of Scotch. Maybe he really was too rich to die. Maybe inside that walking corpse was the secret to immortality.

“Damn, it’s good to be me,” he said before the whiskey burned his throat.

“Did you say something, honey?” croaked a voice.

He turned around and saw his wife in the doorway of the bedroom, her throat a jagged mess of exposed flesh, her chest stained red.

“Alicia…” he stammered.

“Don’t I look pretty?” she wheezed. “Tell me I’m pretty, Bill. I can’t see myself. Why can’t I see myself?”

“You look…” managed Isenberg.

She held up her hands which were now long, skeletal claws. Her eyes were vivid red, and as she tried to scream, she revealed a mouth of gleaming white fangs.

“Why am I so goddamn thirsty?” she moaned. “Is this how you feel, Bill? Are you always thirsty for more? I am insatiable. I feel as though I could drink the blood of millions. Did you hear me, Bill? I said I could drink blood!”

“Just wait a minute, honey, let me call someone,” he said.

He thought he might be able to make it to the door, but she lunged and seized him, and suddenly he was on the floor and she was on top, a grotesque perversion of the female form, and as she tore his throat out he wondered how this could be happening to him, the ego, the self that threatened to swallow the world. I’m too rich… he tried, but then the world was black and there was nothing but the icy void to stretch his meager spirit into nothingness.

New Music: On The Edge Of A Cliff

 

Took me ages to get the vocals right on this track. I had to rewrite the melody because I couldn't sing in the higher register without it sounding thin and reedy. I think this track has one of my better guitar solos. Used a real bass on this one as opposed to my pitchfork lowering my guitar. 

Three Quick Video Game Reviews: Expedition 33: Clair Obscur; Doom 3; Metroid Prime Remastered

 

Clair Obscur: This game truly is worth of all the accolades it received last year. A turn-based JRPG created by French studio Sandfall Interactive, Expedition 33 has great combat, incredible graphics, and a gripping story that you'll want to see through, even though the twist that comes at the end of the second act is controversial. In the world of Clair Obscur, every one only lives to 33, and every year the number ticks down as the Paintress, a god-like being across the ocean from the starting city of Lumiere, takes her toll. You'll play as the members of the 33rd expedition as they attempt to defeat the Paintress and discover the secret of the Gommage. Based off of games like Persona and Final Fantasy, Clair Obscur has turn-based combat with the addition of a real-time parry and dodge system that plays out a lot like a rhythm game. Initially, I struggled with the real-time mechanics, but I learned to parry when the combat animation of the enemy is moving downward and also to listen for a tell-tale audio cue. Still the game gives you plenty of Luminos and Pictos (swappable buffs that you can switch out at anytime) to tweak your characters to your play style. Oh, and the music is awesome too. It took me approximately 50 hours to beat the game with some of the side quests completed. A recommended RPG to basically anyone, even those without experience playing JRPGS such as myself.

Doom 3: I set up a retro PC upstairs with an AMD Athlon X2 6000+ CPU and a Geforce GTS 250 GPU, hooked up to a Samsung CRT monitor that I bought in Chicago around 2004. Doom 3 was the first title I revisited. Atmospherically, it still holds up. The attention id paid to lighting the Mars base really brings the space station to life. Combat though is another story. The shotgun is pathetically weak and an insult to its predecessors. Your movement speed is so slow and the rooms are so cramped that it's hard to avoid damage or dodge projectiles. Also, your vision blurs and shakes when you take damage, making it very easy to die as soon as a monster gets into your face. The monster designs, however, are pretty great. Id must have take inspiration from the Resident Evil series--you could put the Hell Knight and the Pinky into those games and not have them look out of place. Dated jump-scares aside, I enjoyed my first couple of hours with the game. It's only when you reach the Delta Labs that gameplay starts to drag, as the game has shown all of its cards at that point. Hell is a treat, but the constant darkness and mediocre combat weaken the otherwise coolness of the demonic dimension. I'm almost to the end but at this point I'm unsure I'll make it.

Metroid Prime Remastered: I've never played a Metroid game, but Metroid Prime Remastered is pretty good so far, four or so hours in. I've had to consult a walkthrough a couple times because Metroid expects you to revisit its connected levels after you've acquired new abilities, like the boost ball or jump boots to unlock new pathways. A little more direction would be appreciated. However, the mix of plaftorming, shooting, and exploration is very good, and as a PC gamer I'm appreciating this Switch classic.  

Video Game Reviews: Battlefield 6

 

Battlefield 6 is a good-old time with your mates. Played solo, it can be a lot of fun, but having a tight-knit squad is optimal to obtain enjoyment from this large multiplayer shooter. Sure, there is a single-player campaign, but I'm not currently in the mood for rah-rah-our-military-is-badass-type jingoism so I haven't touched it and I'm not sure that I ever will. Multiplayer has always been the focus of these games (the OG Battlefield didn't even have a campaign) and most people probably will jump straight into the multiplayer.

There are several modes this time. Old-favorite Conquest is what I've spent the most time with, but there's also Escalation (7 points to capture instead of 5 like Conquest), Rush (the battlefield keeps shrinking), and Team Deathmatch (Call of Duty), as well as Redsec, a Battle-Royale mode. I'm sure Escalation plays out different than Conquest, but I haven't played it very much, and Rush is cool if you enjoy the meat-grinder. Redsec I have no interest in; I'm sure EA mandated that Dice had to have a Fortnite mode in their multiplayer shooter, but I'd really like to know the average age of a Battlefield player. I suspect that most of us are in our thirties and forties--Battle Dads, if you will--and we aren't likely to want to play a Battle Royale game (if we did, we wouldn't be playing Battlefield anyways, right?). It's curious how far removed these suits are from the games and communities they manage.

There are four classes to choose from: Assault, which specializes in front-line combat; Engineer, which focuses on repairing and taking out vehicles; Support; in charge of healing and ammo resupply; and finally Recon, the sniper and spotting class. Of the four, Assault is my clear favorite. The spawn beacon is their signature gadget, and careful placement allows you to sneak your whole squad into a point and keep them coming back for more. Also, shotguns are their secondary weapon, and there's nothing as satisfying as one-shotting an opponent with a blast of buckshot. Engineer is also fun, especially when paired with a buddy driving a tank. You're in charge of keeping that fragile armor up. The USG-90 is also my favorite submachine gun, submachine guns being the Engineer's signature weapon class (signature guns handle better when matched with the appropriate class). Support specializes in heavy machine guns and has the defibrillator to shock allies back to life. Recon is my least-played class. The aerial drone is great fun to pilot and spot enemies, but the rapid fall of bullets when shooting from great distances makes sniping difficult to master.

As for vehicles, you got your tanks, armored cars, ATVs, helicopters, and fighter jets. I really enjoy being a gunner on a tank while someone else takes the reins. Helicopters aren't difficult to fly but they seem hard to survive in; I usually get shot down within seconds. Jets are unflyable as far as I'm concerned.

The maps are all pretty good, but there could be more of them. Contaminated, a new large-scale map, was just added, but I haven't checked it out yet. Liberation Peak, Blackwell Fields, Eastwood, Operation Firestorm, and Mirak Valley are all good-sized and feature plenty of vehicles. The smaller, infantry-focused maps are Siege of Cairo, Empire State, Manhattan Bridge, and Iberian Offensive. Empire State is probably the only one I don't like. It has no vehicles and there are too many choke points that just devolve into an endless cycle of death. Dying has always been easy in Battlefield--it only takes one or two well-placed shots--so knowledge of the environment and when to engage is key. The last thing you want to feel is like you've been placed in a tiny Call of Duty meat grinder where everyone gets a kill because you're likely to spawn right in front of some doofus. Battlefield's strength is in wide-scale, cinematic moments that feel organic. Maybe you're hiding above a Capture Point in Manhattan Bridge, prone inside a building, picking off approaching enemies when a tank suddenly rolls in and brings the whole upstairs down underneath you, and you're forced to scramble through the wreckage, looking for cover and dodging bullets. Maybe you finally managed to sneak up into the mountains on Operation Firestorm to get revenge on that sniper that shot you from 750 yards away. Or maybe your tank just cleared out a whole rats nest worth of enemies massing on Siege of Cairo. There's always some spectacle happening, and the Frostbite Engine's destructible environments really make warfare in Battlefield feel special compared to any other game.

How is Battlefield 6 now months after release? There are still plenty of matches out there, but there's been a steep dropoff in players since the game's successful launch. They need more maps and faster weapon unlocks and probably a couple more interesting vehicles. But as a funtime game with your buds, Battlefield is excellent. I just hope Dice keeps supporting the veteran fanbase instead of chasing that Call of Duty and Fortnite money.