As most of you know, I play lots of videogames. And yet, I have only talked about games a couple of times in this blog, both back near its very beginnings. As such, I'm going to go through a quick back-log of the various games I've played for the last several months (maybe ranging back past the year mark). I tend to do pretty thorough research before committing to buying or playing a game, so it's safe to say that all of these are quality titles. Because of this, I'm not going to give any sort of elaborate review so much as a quick run down.
Wii/Gamecube:
For the two years previous to the current year, I was fortunate enough to have roommates who owned Wiis. I took ready advantage of this to get in some quality gaming time on the console.
Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker
I started this game in December of 2007, played it and enjoyed it thoroughly for the better part of a month, and then wound up putting it down when life got busy. I picked it back up and finished it in September/October of '08, and I have to say: it ranks among my favorite Zelda titles. I know this is a controversial statement, but the entire game was just fun. Sailing never got too tedious for me (I collected all of the sea charts while I was chilling with people and never paying too much attention), and the vibrancy of the animation was just captivating. I loved simply watching this game, which made controlling it a treat. There weren't terribly many dungeons, but after the "meh"-fest that was Twilight Princess and its bevy of single-purpose items, I didn't really care. Also, as much as I cussed out Zelda for stealing my bow (which is and always will be my favorite item), the final Ganon fight was probably the best in the entire series. Also: Splüsh.
Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask
I hit this one up over the summer on the Wii's virtual console. It seems that everybody either adored the game or couldn't stand the 3-day contrivance. I can honestly say that I'm not in either camp. There were only a couple of times that the 3-day thing proved to be a hindrance, and only one of them was in a dungeon (and that was entirely the result of me being OCD and needing to collect faeries). In general, I loved the way the game played -- *when I was Link*. Link seemed to move more naturally than in Ocarina, and the bunny hood made things even better. The problem was with the alternate link forms. Deku link worked fine, even if he was a bit powerless. Goron Link and Zora Link, however, were seriously lacking in precision when rolling and swimming respectively. I can appreciate rolling Goro-Link being unresponsive. It makes sense with the nature of the movement. But if you're going to do that, don't require precision in navigating certain dungeon features. The crap-shoot movement of Zora-Link, though, was unacceptable, and made the entire 3rd dungeon a way bigger chore than it had any cause to be. The end game was also completely unfulfilling. Maybe that's because we never had any meaningful interaction with the final villain (a la way too many Final Fantasy titles), but not only did I have no clue who I was fighting, I didn't really care when the game was over. I'm not even going to get started on how useless Epona (who was the whole reason for the adventure) was. It's a game that's worth playing, but definitely more on the Zelda 2/Twilight Princess end of the spectrum rather than the OoT/LttP end.
Paper Mario and The Thousand Year Door:
I took this one on over the summer, too. Just a straight-up enjoyable time. Not terribly difficult, but not overly easy, either. The game constantly threw you in new situations and kept me grinning with its humor even if I didn't laugh out loud at much of it. There's not much to compare it to other than the first Paper Mario or the GBA/DS Mario and Luigi titles. Turn based battles with some minor real time elements to keep things interesting. Environmental puzzle solving with a bit of simple platforming. Lots of great Nintendo humor.
Super Paper Mario:
I actually got to this one right after I finished Wind Waker. A very different game from the previous Paper Mario games in that the emphasis is much more strongly on the environmental aspects and the turn based battles have been done away with. This game actually did have moments that made me laugh aloud (the World 3 "boss battle" comes to mind), but the more active nature of the normal gameplay eliminated a lot of the constant stream of light humor from its predecessors. Being able to swap characters was a lot of fun, but I wish they'd done more to make Mario useful outside of "flipping". Bowser's fire breath, Luigi's super jump, and Peach's impenetrable umbrella all kept me from playing as Mario except when I needed to.
Mario Kart Wii:
This game served as an apartment OCD outlet as we finished unlocking everything. While my multi-player experience is limited, I'm comfortable saying that it's a solid Mario Kart experience. I was skeptical of the addition of motorcycles at first, but when I started playing, I changed my mind. The reason? Kart handling between Mario Kart 64 and Double Dash changed significantly, and Motorcycles basically handle like the 64 karts (with which I am infinitely more familiar). Track design seemed good, and I *adore* playing Sherbet Land (one of my favorite tracks of all time) with the wider lanes.
Smash Bros Brawl:
As much as I enjoy the game, it ultimately receives a resounding "meh" from me. I find that, even though Ness (my favorite character) is much improved in Brawl, I prefer Melee in nearly every way. It's faster, more technical, and less random. Brawl is most certainly the better party game, but it will never touch Melee for sheer 1v1 fighting quality. For lots of people, this isn't an issue, but it's entirely what had me addicted to Smash for nearly 2 and a half years.
PS2:
I've owned my PS2 since launch day, and it has served me well ever since. For the last couple of years, though, my play time on it has been rapidly diminishing. While I occasionally grab a used PS2 or PS1 game on the cheap intending to give it my full attention, I haven't actually finished a new game since...oh...Okami? FFXII, Rogue Galaxy, and Disgaea are all on the list of games that I've begun, enjoyed, and ultimately left by the wayside for something shiny and new. Sadface.
Xbox 360:
I finally gave in to peer pressure in late August and bought myself a new console. Hooray for sizable tax returns. While my game library is still fairly small, I've been mightily impressed by what I've played so far.
Shadow Complex:
The best Metroidvania style game since either Super Metroid or Symphony of the Night. Take your pick. Shadow Complex was a delight and, at $15, possibly the best gaming investment I've made in years. As implied above, it's and action/adventure game in the style of Metroid and the "more recent" 2D Castlevania games (i.e. PlayStation era on). You run around shooting fools, find new equipment that lets your revisit old areas in new ways, and shoot more fools. It's not terribly long (maybe 7 or so hours to get 100% completion on your first run through and 3-5 after that), but it's good enough that I played through the main game at least 4 times. "Sequence breaks" abound as well, especially as you unlock new perks for leveling up (unlimited foam? yes, please). It's even possible to beat the game with only 4% of the items (my minimum was somewhere around 11%). If you have a 360 and $15 lying around, which I know most of you do, I can't recommend this game enough.
Mass Effect:
Simply put, one of the best RPG experiences I've had. Most of the cast is incredibly interesting (unfortunately, the two possible love interests are the chief exceptions); the combat is fun once you adapt to it (though not without its challenges); and the plot actually had me going "oh shit, oh shit, fuck, shit, reapers, gotta stop the reapers" come the end. The game has a few hitches (crappy squad A.I., texture load, boring planetary exploration), but the overall arc of the game is absolutely excellent. Being an old-ish game, you can grab it new for $20, and the sequel is dropping in late January making now an excellent time to check it out if you haven't already.
BlazBlue:
I wish I had somebody to play this game with. From what I've played, it's an outstanding free-form 2D fighter. Everybody in the small cast plays incredibly differently, even if the fundamental controls are the same fire-ball and shoryuken motions those of us weaned on Street Fighter have known for years. I spent a good week just fiddling around in training mode, learning what cancels into what and I still find new ways to mix things up every time I go in. Please, please, please, somebody pick up this game so I have an excuse to pop it back in.
Team Fortress 2:
I would list the entire Orange Box, but I played through Half Life 2 years ago and I've tackled Portal more times than I care to count. Both are stellar experiences. TF2 is where I've sunk most of my time on my 360 copy of Orange Box. It's been a lot of fun, but I can't help feeling let down when I know how gimped the 360 version is compared to the PC. No new maps. No new game types. No new alternate equipment or hats. Valve says they're waiting until they've done all of the class updates so they can provide it as a single batch of DLC; but who knows when that will be. If I knew more people playing this on the PC (and if I had a mouse and a proper gaming surface), I'd probably be online on a regular basis.
Borderlands:
This is where the bulk of my last month has disappeared to. Celebrated game designer Cliff Bleszinski has called it "Diablo for the generation raised on FPS", and I can't agree more. The cooperative mob grinding, shoot & loot experience is both incredibly nostalgic and fundamentally new. The best fun, by far, comes from playing with others, but I've still sunk in plenty of time by myself. My level 50 hunter now has maxed out sniper rifle proficiency and is getting close with pistols and SMGs making most of the game a joke, but I still find myself booting up to run through the same old areas hoping that maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to improve on my current equipment. I can't wait for the "Zombie Island of Dr. Ned" DLC pack to drop so I have new places to pillage with the horde of friends who picked this up with me.
DS:
The little handheld that can, I have spurts where I'll play my DS more than any other system.
Prof. Layton and the Curious Village:
A great puzzle game with a remarkably thorough story. I mostly figured out the plot before the end, but it was still a fun ride; and a couple of the puzzles really made me think. Some of them even did so because they were actually clever and not just kind of stupid! I really enjoyed the ambiance of the game and plan to pick up the second game as soon as I find it for a reasonable price.
Scribblenauts:
Another puzzle game, but with an incredible fresh conceit. Scribblenauts is a game where you enter in words and the object appears in reality for you to interact with and solve the task at hand. I actually haven't played this one as much as I probably should have, but that's because my roommates became immediately obsessed with it after I got it. I'll have to bring it with me on vacation for de-stressing. I will say that I have had few videogame experiences more thrilling than seeing a ledge too high for me to reach, typing in the word "kangaroo", and riding on a kangaroo as it jumped up the ledge.
Dragon Quest IV:
A great entry in a great game series. Dragon Quest IV: Chapters of the Chosen doesn't do much to differentiate itself from other games in the series. It doesn't have the spectacular plot of DQV or the class system of DQVI. It doesn't have the pseudo time-travelling aspects of DQVII or the gorgeous, immersive world of DQVIII. What it does have is a solid balance of characters with unique, playable back stories and some very interesting subplots (which, as always, are the driving force of the moment to moment gameplay). Being a DQ game, it's got some pretty tough bits, but it's a fun ride overall.
Final Fantasy IV:
Holy shit. I've played lots of incarnations of FFIV. I played it on the SNES. I played it on the PS1. I played it on the GBA. I played roms of the Japanese SNES original. This is, by far, the most difficult iteration of FFIV ever put to game code. Enemies have been toughened. Equipment options have been changed (Cecil can no longer use bows? Edge can no longer use claws?). This version of the game has forced me to use spells and abilities that, in previous versions, I always looked at as simple novelty. Blink (and Edge's Mirage) quickly became my favorite spell in the whole game. And even still, there will be times when you arrive at a new area and you will have no choice but to accept that, if you run into a certain enemy mob, you will die. Despite all this, though, it's still Final Fantasy IV. It's one of the best stories in the whole Final Fantasy series, and the new translation and presentation only make it stronger. Pick it up.
Okay, I think that about covers it. Hopefully some people found this interesting. If nothing else, I enjoyed having the diversion.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Summer Move Round-Up
Lots of movies came out this summer. Many of them were very good. Some of the more high-profile ones were very bad. I saw a lot of them. Here are my thoughts:
X-Men Origins: Wolverine
Awful. Simply terrible. The acting was crap, the plot was fragmented, and the level of respect on hand for not only the previous movies in the series but the greater X-Men cannon was abysmal. It might have been worth the $4.50 I paid to see it if the theater had been empty enough for me to be willing to yell at the screen. D+
Star Trek
A great reboot to the series. J.J. Abrams managed to remember that Star Trek really is about the chemistry between its ensemble, and the entire cast managed to reinvent their characters in a way that stayed true to the spirit of the original cast. The action never slowed up to allow time for reflection or to introduce any deeper themes, but everything remained coherent and enjoyable throughout. B+
Up
Up was fantastic. Breezy and entertaining while still touching on universal issues of loneliness, Up may well edge out Ratatouille as my third favorite Pixar film. The animation and voice acting are spectacular, and I can't foresee the early montage of Carl and Ellie's married life not making me tear-up at least a bit any time soon. A
The Hangover
Everybody was blown away by the box office performance of The Hangover. This little raunchy, over-the-top bachelor party comedy starring no well known actors (though Zack Galifianakis and Ed Helms both have their dedicated fans) somehow managed to gross $275 million dollars. I'm not quite certain it deserved that kind of gross, it most certainly was a crazy ride. There are situations that arise in this movie that are entirely original, which is something that few comedies can say; and watching these ultimately likable guys get into so much trouble is made even better by the fact that they simply aren't very good people. In a summer dominated by action movies and family films, a male-oriented comedy was going to be a million grosser no matter what, but The Hangover had the novelty and quality to earn its legs. B
Transformers 2
A confusing mess of a movie. The tone and pacing were inconsistent, the over-arching plot made essentially no sense, and the visuals were so cluttered that I rarely knew what was going on in the supposedly spectacular action scenes. This wasn't helped by the fact that virtually none of the decepticons had the same sorts of visual or personality distinctions that the auto-bots had. I'll admit that I enjoy watching Shia LeBouf do his thing more than I ought to, but not nearly enough to enjoy this movie as a whole. D-
Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince
Upon my first reading, the sixth Harry Potter book was my favorite. I enjoyed the various romantic subplots and how they contrasted with the more somber tone of life beyond the gates of Hogwarts. I liked how they fleshed out Lord Voldemort's character. Unfortunately, these are not quite the things that translate well to film, and yet Yates, Radcliffe, Gint, Watson, and company managed to make this a greatly enjoyable film. All of the major subplots were stripped down to their bare minimum, and the humor that accompanies the awkwardness of adolescence was ramped up to keep things entertaining. The addition of the Christmas action sequence half way through is understandable, but the scene didn't contribute much. I'm glad that they left out most of the ending battle, though. It may be the climax of the book, but it ultimately distracts from the rest of the ending. They kept the important aspects. Since this is the first Harry Potter movie I've seen since reading the books, I feel like I need to see it again before issuing a final verdict. I missed certain scenes from the book, but I was also more strongly disposed towards liking it than I was past movies in the series. For now, though, I'm comfortable giving it a solid B.
(500) Days of Summer
This may be my favorite movie of the summer. Up is its only serious competition. In an age where everybody is trying to hard to be "indie" and instead coming across as cloyingly manufactured, (500) Days of Summer captures the hipster essence by focusing on its characters instead of its ambiance. It's a story about love that isn't a love story so much as a look at our expectations of love and relationships. People who know me well ought to know why this resonates the way it does. My adoration for this movie doesn't just follow from my appreciation for the subtext, though. The writing, performances, and soundtrack are all just pitch-perfect. It even manages to end on a hopeful up note that, if it's contrived, is fittingly so. A+
The Hurt Locker
As intense a movie as you're ever likely to see. By focusing on bomb-squad soldiers, The Hurt Locker manages to avoid much of the direct controversy associated with the Iraq war and instead helps us to understand the psyche of men who never know which moment could be their last. The Hurt Locker manages to be unbiased in its depiction, presenting characters honestly without any attempt at evaluating them. It's not a movie I could watch with any regularity, but it's a movie I would readily recommend to anybody who can stomach the suspense. A-
Moon
I really enjoyed Moon. In an age where the sci-fi genre is universally associated with pulpy, high action space operas/fantasies, Moon is a slower, more contemplative in the original tradition. There's a great subtlety to Moon, and my friends and I were still talking about it, putting the pieces together days after we went to see it. I'm looking forward to seeing more from this first-time director. A-
Funny People
Funny People is a strange movie, and I doubt that anybody who went to see it knew what they were in for. It's a movie from an acclaimed comic director starring an acclaimed comic cast that isn't a comedy, not really. This is a drama about how funny people, people who are used to diffusing difficult situations instead of confronting them, handle their personal lives when confrontation becomes necessary. It's a well made film, but not necessarily an immediately enjoyable one. I think that it will be recognized for what it is and shown greater appreciation in the future, though. B
Ponyo
Overall, I enjoyed Ponyo even if I was disappointed by it. It was a light, fun movie that was artistically gorgeous. Still, I take certain issues with the plot, and I was annoyed by the title character as often as I found her endearing. In general, I think that a love story about children (and whether you want to admit it or not, in this case it was plainly about a romantic attraction and not platonic love) is not appropriate. I was also incredibly frustrated that Ponyo, who, in her "free spiritedness", to be polite, caused every single bit of conflict in the movie, was never held accountable for her actions. Instead, she was praised and given exactly what she wanted. Maybe I'm being overly-analytical. Maybe I'm too distracted by my love of Tina Fey (whose character, unknowingly, suffered the most at Ponyo's hands). But I can't help feeling that somebody, at least, should have been upset with this little girl come the end of the movie. In any case, it's an good enough children's movie, but not quite up to par with Totoro, Spirited Away, or the other greats of Miyazaki's oeuvre. C+
District 9
The third great sci-fi film of the summer approaches the genre in yet another way. Where Star Trek was pulp entertainment and Moon was a subtle contemplation, District 9 was a powerful allegory. With a very interesting protagonist and a fascinating alternate history, District 9 does a great job of pulling viewers in and lending weight to the action pieces. For lots of people, this was the movie of the summer. I didn't appreciate it quite that much, but I can understand what they see in it. A-
Inglourious Basterds
A Tarantino movie by just about any measure. The writing and characterizations were outstanding. The direction was unique. The plot was outlandish. It occasionally broke tone in jarring ways. It needed more editing than it got. I really liked this movie, but I think that, with a bit of work, it could have been even better. Some scenes just went on too long, and there were a few too many self-indulgent moments. B-
There were too many movies here for me to try and rank them beyond this, especially considering how long it's been since I saw most of them. As disappointing as a lot of the larger "tent pole" films of the summer were, though, I think this list is a testament to the quality of independent film making right now.
X-Men Origins: Wolverine
Awful. Simply terrible. The acting was crap, the plot was fragmented, and the level of respect on hand for not only the previous movies in the series but the greater X-Men cannon was abysmal. It might have been worth the $4.50 I paid to see it if the theater had been empty enough for me to be willing to yell at the screen. D+
Star Trek
A great reboot to the series. J.J. Abrams managed to remember that Star Trek really is about the chemistry between its ensemble, and the entire cast managed to reinvent their characters in a way that stayed true to the spirit of the original cast. The action never slowed up to allow time for reflection or to introduce any deeper themes, but everything remained coherent and enjoyable throughout. B+
Up
Up was fantastic. Breezy and entertaining while still touching on universal issues of loneliness, Up may well edge out Ratatouille as my third favorite Pixar film. The animation and voice acting are spectacular, and I can't foresee the early montage of Carl and Ellie's married life not making me tear-up at least a bit any time soon. A
The Hangover
Everybody was blown away by the box office performance of The Hangover. This little raunchy, over-the-top bachelor party comedy starring no well known actors (though Zack Galifianakis and Ed Helms both have their dedicated fans) somehow managed to gross $275 million dollars. I'm not quite certain it deserved that kind of gross, it most certainly was a crazy ride. There are situations that arise in this movie that are entirely original, which is something that few comedies can say; and watching these ultimately likable guys get into so much trouble is made even better by the fact that they simply aren't very good people. In a summer dominated by action movies and family films, a male-oriented comedy was going to be a million grosser no matter what, but The Hangover had the novelty and quality to earn its legs. B
Transformers 2
A confusing mess of a movie. The tone and pacing were inconsistent, the over-arching plot made essentially no sense, and the visuals were so cluttered that I rarely knew what was going on in the supposedly spectacular action scenes. This wasn't helped by the fact that virtually none of the decepticons had the same sorts of visual or personality distinctions that the auto-bots had. I'll admit that I enjoy watching Shia LeBouf do his thing more than I ought to, but not nearly enough to enjoy this movie as a whole. D-
Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince
Upon my first reading, the sixth Harry Potter book was my favorite. I enjoyed the various romantic subplots and how they contrasted with the more somber tone of life beyond the gates of Hogwarts. I liked how they fleshed out Lord Voldemort's character. Unfortunately, these are not quite the things that translate well to film, and yet Yates, Radcliffe, Gint, Watson, and company managed to make this a greatly enjoyable film. All of the major subplots were stripped down to their bare minimum, and the humor that accompanies the awkwardness of adolescence was ramped up to keep things entertaining. The addition of the Christmas action sequence half way through is understandable, but the scene didn't contribute much. I'm glad that they left out most of the ending battle, though. It may be the climax of the book, but it ultimately distracts from the rest of the ending. They kept the important aspects. Since this is the first Harry Potter movie I've seen since reading the books, I feel like I need to see it again before issuing a final verdict. I missed certain scenes from the book, but I was also more strongly disposed towards liking it than I was past movies in the series. For now, though, I'm comfortable giving it a solid B.
(500) Days of Summer
This may be my favorite movie of the summer. Up is its only serious competition. In an age where everybody is trying to hard to be "indie" and instead coming across as cloyingly manufactured, (500) Days of Summer captures the hipster essence by focusing on its characters instead of its ambiance. It's a story about love that isn't a love story so much as a look at our expectations of love and relationships. People who know me well ought to know why this resonates the way it does. My adoration for this movie doesn't just follow from my appreciation for the subtext, though. The writing, performances, and soundtrack are all just pitch-perfect. It even manages to end on a hopeful up note that, if it's contrived, is fittingly so. A+
The Hurt Locker
As intense a movie as you're ever likely to see. By focusing on bomb-squad soldiers, The Hurt Locker manages to avoid much of the direct controversy associated with the Iraq war and instead helps us to understand the psyche of men who never know which moment could be their last. The Hurt Locker manages to be unbiased in its depiction, presenting characters honestly without any attempt at evaluating them. It's not a movie I could watch with any regularity, but it's a movie I would readily recommend to anybody who can stomach the suspense. A-
Moon
I really enjoyed Moon. In an age where the sci-fi genre is universally associated with pulpy, high action space operas/fantasies, Moon is a slower, more contemplative in the original tradition. There's a great subtlety to Moon, and my friends and I were still talking about it, putting the pieces together days after we went to see it. I'm looking forward to seeing more from this first-time director. A-
Funny People
Funny People is a strange movie, and I doubt that anybody who went to see it knew what they were in for. It's a movie from an acclaimed comic director starring an acclaimed comic cast that isn't a comedy, not really. This is a drama about how funny people, people who are used to diffusing difficult situations instead of confronting them, handle their personal lives when confrontation becomes necessary. It's a well made film, but not necessarily an immediately enjoyable one. I think that it will be recognized for what it is and shown greater appreciation in the future, though. B
Ponyo
Overall, I enjoyed Ponyo even if I was disappointed by it. It was a light, fun movie that was artistically gorgeous. Still, I take certain issues with the plot, and I was annoyed by the title character as often as I found her endearing. In general, I think that a love story about children (and whether you want to admit it or not, in this case it was plainly about a romantic attraction and not platonic love) is not appropriate. I was also incredibly frustrated that Ponyo, who, in her "free spiritedness", to be polite, caused every single bit of conflict in the movie, was never held accountable for her actions. Instead, she was praised and given exactly what she wanted. Maybe I'm being overly-analytical. Maybe I'm too distracted by my love of Tina Fey (whose character, unknowingly, suffered the most at Ponyo's hands). But I can't help feeling that somebody, at least, should have been upset with this little girl come the end of the movie. In any case, it's an good enough children's movie, but not quite up to par with Totoro, Spirited Away, or the other greats of Miyazaki's oeuvre. C+
District 9
The third great sci-fi film of the summer approaches the genre in yet another way. Where Star Trek was pulp entertainment and Moon was a subtle contemplation, District 9 was a powerful allegory. With a very interesting protagonist and a fascinating alternate history, District 9 does a great job of pulling viewers in and lending weight to the action pieces. For lots of people, this was the movie of the summer. I didn't appreciate it quite that much, but I can understand what they see in it. A-
Inglourious Basterds
A Tarantino movie by just about any measure. The writing and characterizations were outstanding. The direction was unique. The plot was outlandish. It occasionally broke tone in jarring ways. It needed more editing than it got. I really liked this movie, but I think that, with a bit of work, it could have been even better. Some scenes just went on too long, and there were a few too many self-indulgent moments. B-
There were too many movies here for me to try and rank them beyond this, especially considering how long it's been since I saw most of them. As disappointing as a lot of the larger "tent pole" films of the summer were, though, I think this list is a testament to the quality of independent film making right now.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Life update
I don't blog about my life much, but I'm now all moved in to a new apartment with brand new roommates, so I figure it's worth talking about what's up.
Being a fifth year senior is definitely weird already and classes haven't even started yet. Seeing friends looking for work or getting married or settling down in new places is hard. More than that, though, it really feels like this isn't Calvin as I know it, though. There are so many changes on campus - new and departed faculty, building projects - to accompany my missing friends that it's almost like the school is taunting me for staying beyond my welcome. I know I made this choice almost a year and a half ago and that this surrealness of my current position isn't any sort of punishment for failing to grow up or achieve to some desired level...but it's hard all the same.
The new living arrangements will be good, but very different from what I've experienced before. I'm used to living with fairly meek individuals, people who give me room to expand my role and my personality and act out a bit in order to liven things up. The social dynamics of my three roommates, though, are established well enough that, instead of expanding to fill in gaps, I'm fighting to figure out how I fit in. So far, I feel like I'm the guy who cooks and plays videogames. Not terribly glamorous. More than that, this is much more of a typical guy apartment. A bit more crudeness, a bit more testosterone than I'm used to living in. It's an environment I can survive in just fine, but I'm definitely going to need more escape from the heightened level of subliminal conflict and competition. Also, they actually watch sports here, which will be fun from time to time, but it's definitely going to be odd seeing the TV in heavy use for something other than games or binging on TV on DVD.
One nice thing about this being a more typical guy apartment, though, is that I'll also have more chances to expand my cooking. Cooking for one is a pain in the butt, but cooking for four doesn't feel nearly so bad. The guys fastidiously track receipts and what was bought any time anybody goes to the store and will be paying for their share instead of me always treating when I make larger meals (which I didn't mind at all when I only did it once in awhile). In the last week, I've already tried my hand at a few new things without even using any recipes (chicken soup, salsa) that have turned out pretty well. I'm looking forward to doing some more, and especially cooking with wine/alcohol. (beer brats at home! =D)
As far as classes go, things shouldn't be too bad. I've got Physics, which should be a breeze considering I've basically done the work before and I'm living with 2 engineers. I'll probably need to break down and buy a new calculator, though. My 8-year-old TI-86 now has as many dead lines of pixels as it has working ones. That's an unexpected expense that I keep on forgetting to incorporate in my budget planning. Lit and Theology shouldn't be too bad. My (comparatively) slow reading speed will probably make the work a bit of a pain time-wise, but I still write well enough and I like the fields. I'm also taking Intro to Logic, a 100-level Philosophy course, to keep myself full time. Considering all of my experience with deductive logic, the first part of the course, at least, shouldn't pose any difficulties. I can't imagine the inductive logic being much harder (especially since, again, it's an intro level Philosophy course).
In the mean time, I've also got to start getting down to business with grad school research and applications. My intentions to continue work on my senior project in hopes of presenting on it somewhere kind of fell apart over the summer as communication with my advisor dropped off, so I won't be looking quite as impressive as I'd hoped. The list right now isn't terrible long:
Carnegie Mellon (the ideal school, probably won't get in)
University of Michigan
Virginia Tech
University of Colorado at Boulder (where I'm not as likely to go, but I'm hoping they'll pay for me to come visit so I can see some friends for free)
I figure I've got a decent shot at the last three, but I want to expand my options a bit, anyway. Also, I'm looking chiefly at the HCI/Cognitive Science programs at all of these schools, and I'd like to find schools doing cool stuff with programming languages research. In any case, I need to get started researching the profs at these schools and getting my materials together. Having Tuesdays and Thursdays completely free should help a lot, assuming I can actually keep myself on task.
Fortunately, the novelty of my new X-Box 360 is starting to wear off. I've completed Mass Effect and Shadow Complex (two of the best games I've played in recent years), and I'm not looking at buying anything else that will be a major time sink for a good while. The only other games I have are a few multi-player ones I can play with my roommates or online with friends back home. If any of you play Castle Crashers, BlazBlue, or Team Fortress 2, let me know.
That's about it, I guess. I'll probably have some more "profound" thoughts to share in the not too distant future. At the very least there will be a summer movie round up.
Being a fifth year senior is definitely weird already and classes haven't even started yet. Seeing friends looking for work or getting married or settling down in new places is hard. More than that, though, it really feels like this isn't Calvin as I know it, though. There are so many changes on campus - new and departed faculty, building projects - to accompany my missing friends that it's almost like the school is taunting me for staying beyond my welcome. I know I made this choice almost a year and a half ago and that this surrealness of my current position isn't any sort of punishment for failing to grow up or achieve to some desired level...but it's hard all the same.
The new living arrangements will be good, but very different from what I've experienced before. I'm used to living with fairly meek individuals, people who give me room to expand my role and my personality and act out a bit in order to liven things up. The social dynamics of my three roommates, though, are established well enough that, instead of expanding to fill in gaps, I'm fighting to figure out how I fit in. So far, I feel like I'm the guy who cooks and plays videogames. Not terribly glamorous. More than that, this is much more of a typical guy apartment. A bit more crudeness, a bit more testosterone than I'm used to living in. It's an environment I can survive in just fine, but I'm definitely going to need more escape from the heightened level of subliminal conflict and competition. Also, they actually watch sports here, which will be fun from time to time, but it's definitely going to be odd seeing the TV in heavy use for something other than games or binging on TV on DVD.
One nice thing about this being a more typical guy apartment, though, is that I'll also have more chances to expand my cooking. Cooking for one is a pain in the butt, but cooking for four doesn't feel nearly so bad. The guys fastidiously track receipts and what was bought any time anybody goes to the store and will be paying for their share instead of me always treating when I make larger meals (which I didn't mind at all when I only did it once in awhile). In the last week, I've already tried my hand at a few new things without even using any recipes (chicken soup, salsa) that have turned out pretty well. I'm looking forward to doing some more, and especially cooking with wine/alcohol. (beer brats at home! =D)
As far as classes go, things shouldn't be too bad. I've got Physics, which should be a breeze considering I've basically done the work before and I'm living with 2 engineers. I'll probably need to break down and buy a new calculator, though. My 8-year-old TI-86 now has as many dead lines of pixels as it has working ones. That's an unexpected expense that I keep on forgetting to incorporate in my budget planning. Lit and Theology shouldn't be too bad. My (comparatively) slow reading speed will probably make the work a bit of a pain time-wise, but I still write well enough and I like the fields. I'm also taking Intro to Logic, a 100-level Philosophy course, to keep myself full time. Considering all of my experience with deductive logic, the first part of the course, at least, shouldn't pose any difficulties. I can't imagine the inductive logic being much harder (especially since, again, it's an intro level Philosophy course).
In the mean time, I've also got to start getting down to business with grad school research and applications. My intentions to continue work on my senior project in hopes of presenting on it somewhere kind of fell apart over the summer as communication with my advisor dropped off, so I won't be looking quite as impressive as I'd hoped. The list right now isn't terrible long:
Carnegie Mellon (the ideal school, probably won't get in)
University of Michigan
Virginia Tech
University of Colorado at Boulder (where I'm not as likely to go, but I'm hoping they'll pay for me to come visit so I can see some friends for free)
I figure I've got a decent shot at the last three, but I want to expand my options a bit, anyway. Also, I'm looking chiefly at the HCI/Cognitive Science programs at all of these schools, and I'd like to find schools doing cool stuff with programming languages research. In any case, I need to get started researching the profs at these schools and getting my materials together. Having Tuesdays and Thursdays completely free should help a lot, assuming I can actually keep myself on task.
Fortunately, the novelty of my new X-Box 360 is starting to wear off. I've completed Mass Effect and Shadow Complex (two of the best games I've played in recent years), and I'm not looking at buying anything else that will be a major time sink for a good while. The only other games I have are a few multi-player ones I can play with my roommates or online with friends back home. If any of you play Castle Crashers, BlazBlue, or Team Fortress 2, let me know.
That's about it, I guess. I'll probably have some more "profound" thoughts to share in the not too distant future. At the very least there will be a summer movie round up.
Friday, August 7, 2009
On Fantasy (the genre)
Today I started reading Furies of Calderon, a novel that starts a fantasy series that I've been assured by people whom I trust to be very good. Forty pages in, there's already been considerable action and some interesting seeming characters...but I really don't give a shit yet. I'm going to push through and see if things change, but I think I'm starting to figure out what it is about traditional fantasy (and the space fantasy sub-genre of sci-fi) that has made it so hard for me to get into it for the last several years: I don't have the patience for the window dressing.
In order to effectively engage their audience, any author needs to suck their readers into the world of their story. With fantasy, that's an even more ambitious task because the world often looks so little like our own. The author needs to help the reader understand not just the social and physical environment in which the characters reside, but the social and physical properties of the world. This makes fantasy a very visual genre. Often times, we are introduced to the realities of this world through elaborate set pieces or plot sequences designed to illustrate way things work. Since I'm not a visual thinker, I'm easily distracted by overly visual descriptions. They get me working to create an image as opposed to comprehending the idea.
Best case, for me, is that the author quickly establishes these things as mundane and moves beyond the overly ornate descriptions. Worst case is that the window dressing becomes not just a fact of the universe but a major part of the plot; the author remains enamored of his or her imagery and the novel trades proper character and plot development in favor of a series of ever escalating set pieces - like a bad action movie in text form.
Now, urban fantasy (and many genres of sci-fi) manage to get away with things for me because they exist on top of our world. Instead of establishing whole new realities, they propose an altered version of ours. This frees up their ability to focus on what is unique and lets me, as a reader, establish a means of contrasting this world with mine instead of needing to construct it from the ground up. The other way that urban fantasy (though not most sci-fi) tends to be able to effectively introduce its world is by having the reader learn about it along with the protagonist. This is a device that is utilized effectively by most of Neil Gaiman's urban fantasy as well as by Harry Potter (which, I believe, would also be considered urban or modern fantasy).
Maybe, if I stick it out, Furies of Calderon and further books in the series will show me the light. Maybe they will reignite a love for traditional fantasy in me and help me find the patience to give some other books a chance. I'm a bit worried about the overly-capable young female rogue type character and the underdog young boy who will rise to great importance; but I've read enough of the Dresden Files to know that Jim Butcher is a capable author who is willing to toy with cliches enough to keep them interesting. I'll make sure to report back when I'm done.
In order to effectively engage their audience, any author needs to suck their readers into the world of their story. With fantasy, that's an even more ambitious task because the world often looks so little like our own. The author needs to help the reader understand not just the social and physical environment in which the characters reside, but the social and physical properties of the world. This makes fantasy a very visual genre. Often times, we are introduced to the realities of this world through elaborate set pieces or plot sequences designed to illustrate way things work. Since I'm not a visual thinker, I'm easily distracted by overly visual descriptions. They get me working to create an image as opposed to comprehending the idea.
Best case, for me, is that the author quickly establishes these things as mundane and moves beyond the overly ornate descriptions. Worst case is that the window dressing becomes not just a fact of the universe but a major part of the plot; the author remains enamored of his or her imagery and the novel trades proper character and plot development in favor of a series of ever escalating set pieces - like a bad action movie in text form.
Now, urban fantasy (and many genres of sci-fi) manage to get away with things for me because they exist on top of our world. Instead of establishing whole new realities, they propose an altered version of ours. This frees up their ability to focus on what is unique and lets me, as a reader, establish a means of contrasting this world with mine instead of needing to construct it from the ground up. The other way that urban fantasy (though not most sci-fi) tends to be able to effectively introduce its world is by having the reader learn about it along with the protagonist. This is a device that is utilized effectively by most of Neil Gaiman's urban fantasy as well as by Harry Potter (which, I believe, would also be considered urban or modern fantasy).
Maybe, if I stick it out, Furies of Calderon and further books in the series will show me the light. Maybe they will reignite a love for traditional fantasy in me and help me find the patience to give some other books a chance. I'm a bit worried about the overly-capable young female rogue type character and the underdog young boy who will rise to great importance; but I've read enough of the Dresden Files to know that Jim Butcher is a capable author who is willing to toy with cliches enough to keep them interesting. I'll make sure to report back when I'm done.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Re-examining Harry Potter
A bit under two years ago, shortly after the release of the seventh and final Harry Potter book, I blitzed through the entire series. I ready all seven books in under three weeks, while moving, and with multiple day waiting periods between the fifth and sixth and sixth and seventh books. At the ripe old age of 20, I was able to appreciate what I hadn't been able to when I first tried to read the series as a Tolkien obsessed 12-year-old; and I got thoroughly sucked into J.K. Rowling's world. This over-exposure hit me hard. I briefly fell in love with one of the fictional characters. I spent a couple of days when I finished being about as depressed as I've ever been over the fact that I didn't live in that world. After the dust had settled, I started to wonder what had captivated me so strongly, and I vowed that I would re-read the series more slowly, and out of order, to try and figure things out.
Last summer, I went back and re-read Prisoner of Azkaban (the third book) and Half Blood Prince (the sixth book), which had been my favorites after an initial reading. I read them more slowly and deliberately. I am currently re-reading Goblet of Fire (the fourth book, which is a favorite for many readers), and I think I can say a few things with certainty.
First, the reason these books are successful is simple. Very few people have been exposed to well-imagined fantasy worlds that remain accessible to the average reader. I've been put off by lots of traditional fantasy in recent years simply because immersion into the world is too hard to achieve. This is either because it feels like it hasn't been fleshed out (everything outside the scope of the book is uncharted and essentially non-existent) or because it is too far apart from reality as I know it. Rowling has handily avoided both of these pit-falls. The vast majority of the time, I feel as though there is a world out there much larger than the one that Harry's adventures take place in, and the fact that we're discovering the very existence and intricacies of this world along with Harry helps.
Second, and less positive, the books are a far cry from perfect, even for young adult literature. I don't feel like I noticed it as much with PoA or HBP, but re-reading GoF, I feel like Rowling spends a lot of time at the beginning of the novel trying to reintroduce certain elements of the world she's created or past plot points. Virtually all of these moments feel forced, largely because they involve a lot of telling. Having the narration switch tone and move away from the current action is distracting, and I think that Rowling could have avoided this easily.
One way would be through better use of dialog. For instance, in an early chapter of GoF, we are introduced to the characters of Bill and Charlie Weasley for the first time. This is also the first time that Harry has met the characters. Everybody is preparing to go to the Quiditch World Cup, and the characters are talking excitedly about the sport. Suddenly, narration shifts location and we hear about Harry's exploits as the seeker for the Griffyndor house team over the past three years. This easily could have come in the form of dialog from Bill and Charlie, whom, having just met Harry for the first time, would have good cause to try and use the subject to try and strike up conversation. I mean, consider the following dialog, template
Bill: "I hear you're quite the Quiditch star yourself, Harry."
Charlie: "Made seeker on the house team as a first year, didn't you?"
It gets the point across without feeling forced or breaking the action, and would even open up room for some banter to help us get to know these characters better faster. We could easily have covered things like what happened with Sirius the year prior or Harry's dislike for Divination class through conversation instead of narration.
Another way to avoid this obtrusive telling would be to simply have more respect for your audience. Yeah, relevant plot points from the last book may need to be brought up, but some mundane aspects of the wizarding world don't need to be explained again. We don't need to remind people how awesome Harry's Firebolt broom is, for example. Nor do we need to be reminded which ghosts are associated with which houses or that Harry received his broom maintenance kit from Hermione the year before. These aren't important to the plot. They are trivia, and trying to put all of your readers on equal footing in terms of trivial knowledge is a waste of time. Also, people like to remember or figure these sorts of things out on their own. It adds an "aha" or an "oh, yeah" moment that makes us feel intelligent.
Neil Gaiman plug! The thing that most impressed me about the (Newbury Award winning) young adult novel Graveyard Book was the level of respect that Gaiman showed his young readers. This is exemplified best by the fact that we are never explicitly told within the confines of the text that Silas is a vampire. We are shown this fact in numerous ways, but we are never clubbed with it. We are free to realize it at our own speed. If you're completely unfamiliar with vampire lore or oblivious to the language used to describe his existence between life and death, then you could go the whole book without realizing this fact, and it wouldn't detract from your ability to appreciate the story at all. This is the perfect example of the kind of respect that Rowling, in her desire to include everybody, sometimes lacks.
As the book goes on, though, and as the main plot and the new material pick up, these moments become rarer, and I find myself more continually enraptured in the world of Hogwarts. It's been a delightful place to visit again, and I fully intend to buy the whole set for myself in the not-too-distant future. I only hope that re-experiencing Deathly Hallows this Fall won't be as painful as I'm afraid it will be. The more I think about that book, and in particular its ending, the more I'm certain I don't like it nearly as much as the rest. I'll make sure to let you all know.
Last summer, I went back and re-read Prisoner of Azkaban (the third book) and Half Blood Prince (the sixth book), which had been my favorites after an initial reading. I read them more slowly and deliberately. I am currently re-reading Goblet of Fire (the fourth book, which is a favorite for many readers), and I think I can say a few things with certainty.
First, the reason these books are successful is simple. Very few people have been exposed to well-imagined fantasy worlds that remain accessible to the average reader. I've been put off by lots of traditional fantasy in recent years simply because immersion into the world is too hard to achieve. This is either because it feels like it hasn't been fleshed out (everything outside the scope of the book is uncharted and essentially non-existent) or because it is too far apart from reality as I know it. Rowling has handily avoided both of these pit-falls. The vast majority of the time, I feel as though there is a world out there much larger than the one that Harry's adventures take place in, and the fact that we're discovering the very existence and intricacies of this world along with Harry helps.
Second, and less positive, the books are a far cry from perfect, even for young adult literature. I don't feel like I noticed it as much with PoA or HBP, but re-reading GoF, I feel like Rowling spends a lot of time at the beginning of the novel trying to reintroduce certain elements of the world she's created or past plot points. Virtually all of these moments feel forced, largely because they involve a lot of telling. Having the narration switch tone and move away from the current action is distracting, and I think that Rowling could have avoided this easily.
One way would be through better use of dialog. For instance, in an early chapter of GoF, we are introduced to the characters of Bill and Charlie Weasley for the first time. This is also the first time that Harry has met the characters. Everybody is preparing to go to the Quiditch World Cup, and the characters are talking excitedly about the sport. Suddenly, narration shifts location and we hear about Harry's exploits as the seeker for the Griffyndor house team over the past three years. This easily could have come in the form of dialog from Bill and Charlie, whom, having just met Harry for the first time, would have good cause to try and use the subject to try and strike up conversation. I mean, consider the following dialog, template
Bill: "I hear you're quite the Quiditch star yourself, Harry."
Charlie: "Made seeker on the house team as a first year, didn't you?"
It gets the point across without feeling forced or breaking the action, and would even open up room for some banter to help us get to know these characters better faster. We could easily have covered things like what happened with Sirius the year prior or Harry's dislike for Divination class through conversation instead of narration.
Another way to avoid this obtrusive telling would be to simply have more respect for your audience. Yeah, relevant plot points from the last book may need to be brought up, but some mundane aspects of the wizarding world don't need to be explained again. We don't need to remind people how awesome Harry's Firebolt broom is, for example. Nor do we need to be reminded which ghosts are associated with which houses or that Harry received his broom maintenance kit from Hermione the year before. These aren't important to the plot. They are trivia, and trying to put all of your readers on equal footing in terms of trivial knowledge is a waste of time. Also, people like to remember or figure these sorts of things out on their own. It adds an "aha" or an "oh, yeah" moment that makes us feel intelligent.
Neil Gaiman plug! The thing that most impressed me about the (Newbury Award winning) young adult novel Graveyard Book was the level of respect that Gaiman showed his young readers. This is exemplified best by the fact that we are never explicitly told within the confines of the text that Silas is a vampire. We are shown this fact in numerous ways, but we are never clubbed with it. We are free to realize it at our own speed. If you're completely unfamiliar with vampire lore or oblivious to the language used to describe his existence between life and death, then you could go the whole book without realizing this fact, and it wouldn't detract from your ability to appreciate the story at all. This is the perfect example of the kind of respect that Rowling, in her desire to include everybody, sometimes lacks.
As the book goes on, though, and as the main plot and the new material pick up, these moments become rarer, and I find myself more continually enraptured in the world of Hogwarts. It's been a delightful place to visit again, and I fully intend to buy the whole set for myself in the not-too-distant future. I only hope that re-experiencing Deathly Hallows this Fall won't be as painful as I'm afraid it will be. The more I think about that book, and in particular its ending, the more I'm certain I don't like it nearly as much as the rest. I'll make sure to let you all know.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Ripped from today's headlines!
So, those of you who follow the news know that one of the recurring fluff stories right now involves a Philadelphia day care and a local country club swimming pool. The short version is this:
Due to the closings of a number of city pools, the day care center contracted with said country club to use their pool once a week.
At the first visit, some of the members of the country club made derogatory remarks about the kids, many of which were racial in nature.
Shortly thereafter, the country club cancelled the contract and returned the full check to the day care center.
The slant that the day care center and liberal activists are taking is that this turnabout on the contract was racially motivated. After all, if a handful of the members of this club are bigoted, then obviously the entire organization must be.
The story according to the country club is that participation was unexpectedly high and they couldn't legally support having that many people using the pool. They cancelled similar contracts with other, predominantly white day care centers, too.
I don't really care at the moment which side is right. What I care about is that the obvious slant from the media is that the day care center is. The day care center is insisting that the entire board of the country club resign and that members who are identified as having made racist comments be expelled from the organization. What gives them this authority? Nothing, at least not until actual wrongdoing is proven. Until then, this is blackmail, plain and simple, and it's disgusting; and yet, it's not going to be seen as that in the press. It's going to be seen as a justified crusade against the ghosts of systemic racism.
I hate that, as soon as racism or homosexuality enters the picture, innocent until proven guilty flies out the window. Any time these issues arises, we start confusing correlation with causation; and not just in the lack of evidence, but often times (such as in this case) in the face of evidence to the contrary. I understand why we do it. We want to make sure that the system can't be abused to protect bigots. To borrow a phrase from the Green Lantern Corps, we want to ensure that no evil escapes our sight. I'm not sure that we go about it the right way, though, when we give our entire sympathy to the "defendant", particularly when they abuse their supposed weakness in this fashion.
Due to the closings of a number of city pools, the day care center contracted with said country club to use their pool once a week.
At the first visit, some of the members of the country club made derogatory remarks about the kids, many of which were racial in nature.
Shortly thereafter, the country club cancelled the contract and returned the full check to the day care center.
The slant that the day care center and liberal activists are taking is that this turnabout on the contract was racially motivated. After all, if a handful of the members of this club are bigoted, then obviously the entire organization must be.
The story according to the country club is that participation was unexpectedly high and they couldn't legally support having that many people using the pool. They cancelled similar contracts with other, predominantly white day care centers, too.
I don't really care at the moment which side is right. What I care about is that the obvious slant from the media is that the day care center is. The day care center is insisting that the entire board of the country club resign and that members who are identified as having made racist comments be expelled from the organization. What gives them this authority? Nothing, at least not until actual wrongdoing is proven. Until then, this is blackmail, plain and simple, and it's disgusting; and yet, it's not going to be seen as that in the press. It's going to be seen as a justified crusade against the ghosts of systemic racism.
I hate that, as soon as racism or homosexuality enters the picture, innocent until proven guilty flies out the window. Any time these issues arises, we start confusing correlation with causation; and not just in the lack of evidence, but often times (such as in this case) in the face of evidence to the contrary. I understand why we do it. We want to make sure that the system can't be abused to protect bigots. To borrow a phrase from the Green Lantern Corps, we want to ensure that no evil escapes our sight. I'm not sure that we go about it the right way, though, when we give our entire sympathy to the "defendant", particularly when they abuse their supposed weakness in this fashion.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
More Religious/Catholic talk!
I really don't get why so many religious people are so violently opposed to anything dealing with postmodernism. We actively talk about faith as being transformative, and I can't think of anything more postmodern than that - belief impacting behavior and perception. The basic idea is that, if you really truly believe that Jesus of Nazareth was and is the eternal Son of God who came to live among us, then you're going to live your life differently. You're going to try to follow His example and His teachings more closely. You're going to have a new appreciation for the handiwork of creation in light of the revelation of God's love. The reality you live in will, in a real way, be altered from the reality you understood before believing.
Thinking about this finally helped me to understand the Catholic sacraments. The common definition of a sacrament is "An outward sign, initiated by Christ on Earth, to give us grace". The definition as I tend to remember (and prefer) it is "An outward sign of God's grace, initiated by Christ on Earth". The difference here is that the grace, in my definition, is pre-existing. It is something that the sacrament is a reminder of and not something conferred by participation in it.
Here's where I'm going with this. If I receive the Eucharist, and I firmly and truly believe that it is, metaphysically, the body and blood of Christ, who sacrificed himself that I may live more fully...then I'm going to respond to that presence. I am going to honor that sacrifice in my living. I am going to strive to be a better person. That's not to say that I couldn't do those things without having received the Eucharist, but participation in the sacrament, if I believe in it, heightens my sense of duty and my awareness of the abundant grace I have already been blessed with, grace I may not otherwise be aware of.
I've seen this in people. I had teachers throughout my Catholic education who tried to make it to Mass every morning, and you could tell when they hadn't. They were grumpier, they were less patient, they didn't teach as well. Daily Eucharist was a ritual by which they connected to God and their duty in the classroom as Christian educators, and without it, they were lost. For other people, myself included, Eucharist doesn't have nearly this big an impact...but that's because we don't believe in it, or at least not to the same extent.
Some people would look at what I'm saying and construe it as another way of saying "oh, religion is for the weak, the people who don't have the will to lead the lives they know they should without it". Maybe that's a valid interpretation. Maybe it's all a bunch of psychosematic crap we would be better off without. I disagree, though. I think that any way we have of pushing and encouraging ourselves to be better is of value; and I happen to believe very strongly that Jesus was right in His teachings of what it means to be better.
That is all.
Thinking about this finally helped me to understand the Catholic sacraments. The common definition of a sacrament is "An outward sign, initiated by Christ on Earth, to give us grace". The definition as I tend to remember (and prefer) it is "An outward sign of God's grace, initiated by Christ on Earth". The difference here is that the grace, in my definition, is pre-existing. It is something that the sacrament is a reminder of and not something conferred by participation in it.
Here's where I'm going with this. If I receive the Eucharist, and I firmly and truly believe that it is, metaphysically, the body and blood of Christ, who sacrificed himself that I may live more fully...then I'm going to respond to that presence. I am going to honor that sacrifice in my living. I am going to strive to be a better person. That's not to say that I couldn't do those things without having received the Eucharist, but participation in the sacrament, if I believe in it, heightens my sense of duty and my awareness of the abundant grace I have already been blessed with, grace I may not otherwise be aware of.
I've seen this in people. I had teachers throughout my Catholic education who tried to make it to Mass every morning, and you could tell when they hadn't. They were grumpier, they were less patient, they didn't teach as well. Daily Eucharist was a ritual by which they connected to God and their duty in the classroom as Christian educators, and without it, they were lost. For other people, myself included, Eucharist doesn't have nearly this big an impact...but that's because we don't believe in it, or at least not to the same extent.
Some people would look at what I'm saying and construe it as another way of saying "oh, religion is for the weak, the people who don't have the will to lead the lives they know they should without it". Maybe that's a valid interpretation. Maybe it's all a bunch of psychosematic crap we would be better off without. I disagree, though. I think that any way we have of pushing and encouraging ourselves to be better is of value; and I happen to believe very strongly that Jesus was right in His teachings of what it means to be better.
That is all.
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