Archives for the month of: August, 2004

Reading bookIf I’m not cod­ing a web site, I’m read­ing a book. Read­ing puts me in a tran­quil state of mind and for those few moments my imag­i­na­tion takes over, tak­ing me some­where I’ve never been and putting me in the shoes of a com­plete stranger. Ever since I was 4 years old I’ve never been reluc­tant to pick up a book that maybe I didn’t fully understand.

With book in hand, I could just scan the pages for words I rec­og­nized and maybe piece together the story. Also, ever since I enrolled in Children’s Lit­er­a­ture in col­lege it has sparked in me a new inter­est in read­ing children’s books, which at times feel more ener­getic than a run of the mill adult novel.

Nowa­days, I’ve been known to read around 4 or 5 books at a time. For some peo­ple this might seem like overkill, but for me, I can eas­ily divide my atten­tion to each story and every one of these books vary in genre. That said, I’m cur­rently reading:

What are you reading? 

After a 2 year hia­tus from col­lege, I will be return­ing next month to con­tinue my stud­ies, tak­ing night courses to increase my cred­its and push my way towards grad­u­at­ing with my bach­e­lors degree in Visual Com­mu­ni­ca­tion. It’s been both a per­sonal goal of mine and some­thing my fam­ily sup­ports to the upteenth per­cent. How­ever, the process towards con­tin­u­ing my edu­ca­tion has been inter­est­ing to say the least.

First and fore­most, all col­leges require that your immu­ni­ties be up to date. It’s obvi­ous why this is impor­tant due to the fact that hun­dreds upon thou­sands of stu­dents cross paths through­out the day. There­fore, there is always going to be a hand­ful of stu­dents with some form of a sick­ness. To pre­vent a mass out­break of rubella stu­dents are required to have their immunities.

The Doc­tor informed me that they could check for immu­ni­ties by exam­in­ing my blood. Last week I walked into the “blood lab”, slumped my arm for­ward and cringed in fear because I hate nee­dles. I informed the tech­ni­cian that I would be look­ing the other direc­tion because it was my pref­er­ence that I didn’t see the blood. At this point she lit­er­ally jabbed the nee­dle into the side of my arm. As I’ve described to friends and fam­ily it felt like some­one had inserted the tip of steak knife into my skin. At that point my reflex to strike sub­sided because it’s against the law to smack around your med­ical support.

Yes­ter­day I received word from the Doctor’s office that I needed booster shots. Accord­ing to them, I was not immune to the measles or tuber­cu­lo­sis and the result of this is that I would need to get shots to bring my immu­niza­tions up to date. To recap, I’ve been stabbed in the arm for blood­work and now I need some­one to jam a nee­dle, three or four times in my body, to bring me “up to code”. All this to sim­ply con­tinue my edu­ca­tion? I cer­tainly hope it’s worth the trouble. 

MelonpoolI’ve been an avid reader of the online comic, Mel­on­pool. The comic fol­lows the adven­tures of “two aliens, a tele­pathic dog and a 220-lb. ham­ster” and the inter­ac­tions of the char­ac­ters are as hilar­i­ous as they are intriguing.

When I stum­bled upon Mel­on­pool 5 years ago it was the result of a ran­dom Yahoo! search. Typ­ing feve­ri­ously (65 WPM and chicken peckin’) at my key­board I came up with some­thing along the lines of “aliens and hamp­sters.” Why I linked these two together I’ll never know, but lo and behold the first link on the list was Mel­on­pool. I sat there for a cou­ple min­utes won­der­ing what a Mel­on­pool was and decided it would be best to inves­ti­gate the mat­ter by click­ing the link.

Upon enter­ing the site I noticed a blue back­ground with a white swirl and a hand­ful of car­toon char­ac­ters star­ring back at me. Imme­di­at­edly I read through the archives and was hooked from there on. I entered my email into the form and every Sun­day received the comic strip in my Inbox. Believe me, I couldn’t wait to see what was in store for May­berry Mel­on­pool and the gang. Which brings me to what the comic is about; pop cul­ture. You would think Steve Troop (the cre­ator of Mel­on­pool) would have gone with the cliché plot where aliens land on Earth and destroy every­thing in their path, includ­ing that lone flower. Rather, Troop decides to write the sto­ry­lines around the sub­ject of the aliens’ inter­est with Earth’s culture.

May­berry (the Cap­tain) is a Star Trek fan because in space they receive our television/satellite sig­nals many light years after the series has gone off the air. To the alien, he’s impressed by the char­ac­ters and ulti­mately gets to meet his heroes in a Time Travel plot that is immensely hard to explain with­out read­ing the archives. Which brings me to the key to this suc­cess­ful comic, the inter­ac­tions of its char­ac­ters and their curi­ousity of pop cul­ture. Troop even elab­o­rates on the fact that his comic was viewed by an exec­u­tive at NBC and coin­ci­den­tally the pop­u­lar tele­vi­sion show, Third Rock from the Sun, sprung into the lineup.

I had the oppor­tu­nity to inter­view Steve Troop in 1999 for a col­lege course I was tak­ing. The course, Intro­duc­tion to Mass Media, called for a paper that described a “media fig­ure” and their “suc­cess­ful ven­tures”. The twist to this paper was that you had to inter­view the media mogul (in per­son) and write a 5-page paper about the inter­view. I chose Steve Troop for the same rea­sons his strip is suc­cess­ful among its fans; for the money.

I recieved an A+ on the paper and was indeed richer, but not with the great green­back. The wealth came from what I found out about a young boy’s dream in San Diego, Cal­i­for­nia. To sim­ply draw car­toons. Indeed, I was richer with the notion that he is in fact liv­ing his dreams come true.

Sure, there might not be the suc­cess of news­pa­per syn­di­ca­tion (a goal Troop has envi­sioned for years) but the real suc­cess lies in the fans that sup­port the comic strip through its com­pi­la­tion books and the com­mu­nity within the Mel­on­pool mes­sage boards. At the moment, there are 5 books and con­tained within each book are sev­eral per­sonal nota­tions and reflec­tions from Troop while cre­at­ing each strip, some­thing he cre­ated while in col­lege, and other extras that you won’t see on the web site.

Do your­self a favor today and go read Mel­on­pool. Enjoy the 1,000+ strips con­tained within the archive and grow with the characters.

If you’d rather read the strips offline, buy a book.

Pat your­self on the back because you’ll be sup­port­ing the con­tin­u­a­tion of a won­der­ful comic strip. 

CrossroadsFlash­back to two years ago, when my wife and I decided to move from Cal­i­for­nia to New York. It was a gutsy deci­sion on my part, to leave my fam­ily and friends behind — but, not for­ever — and start a new life in an unknown place. To this day I’m still amazed I went through it all.

The move was an inter­est­ing jour­ney of not only start­ing anew, but find­ing myself. On the cross coun­try trip of 2,000 miles, I trav­eled with my then soon-to-be father-in-law, girl­friend and com­puter. We were a mot­ley crew, dis­cussing every­thing from movies to life, trav­el­ing some­times at breakneak speeds to reach our des­ti­na­tion sooner than later. We stayed in Mer­riot hotels, woke up when the sun would rise and com­plete our day’s jour­ney when it fell.

Along the way I learned new things, looked out the win­dow and mostly stared into the dis­tance think­ing about my fam­ily. Won­der­ing why I left behind some­thing so con­crete for some­thing unknown.

We all reach cross­roads in our life, some­times peo­ple even refer to it as a fork in the road. When­ever that anal­ogy is used, how­ever, I always envi­sion a fork, 40-feet high, stuck in the mid­dle of a dusty road. When we, as human beings, stop before this fork in the road, we under­stand that typ­i­cally there is no going back. There isn’t a rewind, fast-forward or pause but­ton in life. Once we make a deci­sion it effects fur­ther cross­roads in our lives, changes that we aren’t always will­ing to accept but know deep down it will be for the bet­ter­ment of not only your­self, but those who sur­round you. 

Award ShowdownJosh Meeter of Meeter­vi­sion is like any other artis­tic vision­ary. Pas­sion­ate, deter­mined and full of cre­ative energy. Except, in this case Josh Meeter is just 21 years old and his films have been widely rec­og­nized by some of Hollywood’s lead­ing direc­tors and com­posers. More specif­i­cally, the likes of Steven Spiel­berg, George Lucas and John Williams for his stop-motion ani­mated film, The Award Show­down which pre­miered on the site Count­ing­down in 2001.

It’s not sur­pris­ing that these film­mak­ers took notice con­sid­er­ing Meeter’s unde­ni­able atten­tion to detail and tim­ing. The Award Show­down por­trays the two lead­ing film­mak­ers (Lucas and Spiel­berg) lit­er­ally duk­ing it out to see which one deserves the award at an award cer­e­mony. How­ever, the key to this excel­lent clay­ma­tion film is the vari­ety of appear­ances made by sev­eral char­ac­ters that have graced the screen in their pro­duc­tions, namely such rec­og­niz­able faces as E.T, Indi­ana Jones, Jaws, Darth Vadar and others.

Meeter orig­i­nally posted his short on the Bagel Cam Board, an area for view­ers of Spielberg’s web­cam setup dur­ing the film­ing of A.I. Even­tu­ally, Spiel­berg him­self viewed the film and imme­di­ately requested it be fea­tured on the Countingdown.com web site, and the rest is history.

Accord­ing to Metter’s web­site, Josh is cur­rently work­ing on a com­plete re-production of The Award Show­down for con­sid­er­a­tion as an Oscar candidate.

Let’s hope that Josh Met­ter will some­day have his name roll down the cred­its in a Hol­ly­wood fea­ture film.

View: The Award Show­down (orig­i­nal ver­sion now show­cased at IFilm.com

Alton BrownI couldn’t agree more with Dan Cederholm’s sen­ti­ment of Alton Brown and his Food Net­work show, Good Eats. He is cool and for good rea­son. Never have I been as inter­ested in a cook­ing show, aside from the occas­sional view­ing of Iron Chef or Gra­ham Keer, as I’ve been in Good Eats and it’s all due to Alton’s fast-paced per­for­mance. As Dan explains, Alton “is a genius at explain­ing supe­rior cook­ing tech­niques in a way that’s entertaining—even humorous.”

On a more recent episode, Alton delved into the his­tory of the com­mon sweet potato. Maybe igno­rance is bliss but I never knew a yam and a sweet potato were one in the same. I also learned on this par­tic­u­lar episode that if you’re hunt­ing for a good waf­fle maker avoid buy­ing the plas­tic ver­sions and instead go for a solid medal machine. In one par­tic­u­lar scene in the show, Alton casu­ally drags an exten­sion cord into the home appli­ance sec­tion of what looked like Tar­get or Wal­mart and pro­ceeded to try out every machine. As he is doing this, the secu­rity guard is dis­cussing with who appears to be the store man­ager about the dis­ad­van­tages of a cheaper plas­tic waf­fle iron as opposed to the might­ier and cost-effective medal varieties.

In just one episode I learned about the his­tory of sweet potatos (and yams), in addi­tion to the right choice for a waf­fle iron. If that’s not good tele­vi­sion I don’t know what is. 

Amazing StoriesAmaz­ing Sto­ries (198587) was an anthol­ogy of fas­ci­nat­ing tales pro­posed by direc­tor Steven Spiel­berg. The series, last­ing for two years, brought together sev­eral feature-film direc­tors and writ­ers includ­ing Robert Zemekis, Joe Dante, Clint East­wood and Mar­tin Scors­ese to name a few.

Of the episodes that I can remem­ber the most are that of Ghost Train and an episode star­ring Mark Hamill as a junk col­lec­tor. The story depicts the life-long pas­sion of a col­lec­tor of ‘junk’ or what oth­ers — namely peo­ple like you or I — believe to be junk. As the old say­ing goes; One man’s junk is another man’s trea­sure. Even­tu­ally as time passes the col­lec­tion of junk is auc­tioned off thus earn­ing the old man mil­lions upon mil­lions of dollars.

Amaz­ing things in life always intrigue us. This is because we want to believe in mir­a­cles and amaz­ing sto­ries and let them into what can be an oth­er­wise mudane and recy­cled lifestyle. When you hear about a foun­tain in Egypt that weeps gold tears you remain glued to the tele­vi­sion in a zombie’s trance. Or, upon flip­ping through the chan­nels you hap­pen upon a tem­ple in Tibet that is buried within the chasms of a spec­tac­u­lar ice cave you are instantly intranced. Why? Spec­tac­u­lar events spark the imag­i­na­tion and the intrigue. 

At work I’ve been in charge of redesign­ing fron­tends (and some­times the occas­sional back­end) for a vari­ety of per­sonal, pro­fes­sional and non-profit web sites. The con­sen­sus from those I’ve shown my redesigns to is one of two things; it either looks great and marks an improve­ment or looks too pro­fes­sional, too textbook.

My expe­ri­ence in this pro­fes­sion, and in any pro­fes­sion if you think about it, is that you will never please every­one. Most peo­ple have dif­fer­ent the­o­ries and tastes when it comes to design and it’s evi­dent when you show them your work.

I began my career in art paint­ing land­scapes, sculpt­ing clay and doo­dling car­toons. My work received the same breadth of opin­ions and to be hon­est most of the neg­a­tive com­ments affected me per­son­ally and pro­fes­sion­ally. I remem­ber read­ing about how Kevin Smith (direc­tor of Mall Rats and Chas­ing Amy, amongst oth­ers) received a neg­a­tive com­ment on the a View Askew forum about his movie Dogma. He men­tioned that he lit­er­ally wanted to go to that guy’s house and ask him why he felt the need to bad mouth his movie — maybe even going as far as push­ing him around. On the other hand, I’m pretty sure Jerry Bruck­heimer could care less if he receives neg­a­tive reviews so long as he breaks a box office record.

There is a point in our pro­fes­sional lives wherein some of the com­ments you’ll receive will be taken per­son­ally, but in those times you might want to take a step back and look at the full pic­ture. You’re not going to please every­one and the ratio from those who like your design to those who don’t might be unbalanced.

What you have to remem­ber is that you, as the artist, will always receive neg­a­tive feed­back but you will also receive pos­i­tive feed­back. No mat­ter the ratio, pos­i­tive feed­back is most impor­tant in build­ing your ego and round any edges wherein neg­a­tive feed­back might improve your skills, if you take it in excess of a grain of salt. 

Water FaucetMy wife and I bought one of those water fil­tra­tion sys­tems for our faucet, fig­ur­ing it would be a cost effec­tive solu­tion to buy­ing bot­tled water. After installing the piece on our faucethead, I noticed that it men­tioned in the instruc­tions that you had to flush it out for 5 min­utes. After­wards it noted that the life­time of the fil­ter would be 100 Gal­lons or 4 months, whichever comes first.

The replace­ment fil­ter costs $16.99 at Tar­get and on rare occas­sions they’ll run a spe­cial knock­ing the price down about 10% of the orig­i­nal cost. This means that every 4 months when we have to replace the fil­ter we’ll be spend­ing almost 20 bucks a pop, which equals to the amount of about $60 a year. I fig­ure we were spend­ing close to $80 a year on bot­tled water (a few cases with about 4 or 5 milk gal­lons of water).

In addi­tion to own­ing a faucet fil­ter, we also own a pitcher which we fill and place in the refridger­a­tor for cold water. My wife likes her water luke-warm cold, if there is such a thing, and I, on the other hand, pre­fer water ice — straight from the Artic — cold. This might be attrib­uted to all those moun­tain vis­its I went on as a kid and drank straight from the creek.

Only one time did I have an unpleas­ant expe­ri­ence with cold water in Canada where I almost drowned in an ice cold lake after slic­ing the bot­tom of my foot on a smooth, but extremely sharp, stone.

Aside from that expe­ri­ence, I love the taste of water and have per­me­nantly replaced my Coca-Cola drink­ing habits with the pure and unal­tered taste of water. 

kq1.gifIn 1983, a com­pany named Sierra (with the help from designer Roberta Williams) released King’s Quest: Quest for the Crown. The game fea­tured “never-before-seen” 3-dimensional graph­ics, a char­ac­ter by the name of Gra­ham of whom the player con­trolled with the key­board, and a com­mand inter­face for char­ac­ter and object inter­ac­tions. Even­tu­ally, King’s Quest spawned into a series of 7 sequels not to men­tion becom­ing one of the most suc­cess­ful adven­ture series in the his­tory of com­puter gaming.

My first expe­ri­ence with King’s Quest came in the form of the sec­ond game, King’s Quest II: Romanc­ing the Throne. This sequel fea­tured an updated engine, a fairy­tale set­ting and over­all bet­ter graph­ics and game­play. In fact, the engine referred to as Sierra AGI Game Inter­preter) was uti­lized for sev­eral other Sierra game projects includ­ing Leisure Suit Larry, Quest for Glory and the suc­cess­ful Police and Space Quest series, to name a few.

When I first laid eyes upon the game it had just been freshly installed on my cousin’s 120Mhz com­puter. The intro­duc­tion was Sierra’s logo fol­lowed by their trade­mark “chime” which resulted in the title, “King’s Quest: Romanc­ing the Throne” emblazened on a gold scroll.

kq2grandmashouse.gifMy cousin intro­duced me to the world of Dav­en­try by show­ing me how you could move Gra­ham through the var­i­ous “scenes” in the game (using the arrow keys) and type com­mands into the inter­face to per­form tasks (ie. take tri­dent, etc.). For exam­ple, I remem­ber my cousin timidly approach­ing Lit­tle Red Rid­ing Hood’s house — slowly edg­ing Gra­ham to the front door and typ­ing “open door”. The com­mand inter­preted through the soft­ware as “open” and “door” and mag­i­cally the door opened. Well, it was magic to me.

Once inside the house, you were con­fronted with one of two pos­si­ble situations;

  • Your Grand­mother lying in bed, a sweet old lady with a bas­ket full of goodies.
  • The Wolf, the vil­lian who would gob­ble Gra­ham up if he wasn’t quick enough.

When­ever I played King’s Quest, I always seemed to stum­ble upon the Wolf, at which point I would curse the Gods for my hor­rid luck. When­ever my cousin played she was blessed by the luck of nature as the Grand­mother would be lying in the bed.

We even­tu­ally drew a map of the game to aide us in our adven­ture. Since the game was split up into var­i­ous sequences (or scenes), it was easy to mark that area on your map to remem­ber where you had been. This was espe­cially help­ful when you were trapped within the screen mazes, which were the programmer’s play­ful attempt to drive you mad. These were screens wherein no mat­ter how many times you attempted to reach a dif­fer­ent screen you always ended up where you were last. To break free from this cycle, you had to fig­ure out the cor­rect sequence of direc­tions, for instance North, East, West, South.

I don’t believe we ever offi­cially com­pleted King’s Quest 2 but that wasn’t what mat­tered. The impor­tant aspect was the qual­ity of the game and how it enthralled and immersed us. Com­pare KQ to today’s games and you have basi­cally night and day, but what’s great is Roberta Williams’ games cre­ated a world with­out 3D poly­gons and bril­liant real-time light­ing. Her work, along with the work of other 2D games of that time, brought forth a stan­dard in com­puter game­play that had never been seen before.

This stan­dard spread like wild­fire to com­pa­nies like Lucasarts who along with game cre­ator Tim Shafer devel­oped bril­liant adven­ture games. These included Maniac Man­sion, Day of the Ten­ta­cle, Full Throt­tle and Sam and Max. All of these were true gems and noth­ing today as far as adven­ture games are con­cerned have even come close to the qual­ity, humor and game­play of these classics.

Luck­ily the same peo­ple who played these games years ago have decided to pay back the efforts of Robert Williams, Tim Shafer, and other fan­tas­tic adven­ture game cre­ators by cod­ing new projects in homage.

These include:

Peasant’s Quest: An excel­lent, and not to men­tion almost pixel per­fect par­ody where the pro­ta­gan­ist is a peas­ant, by the guys who do Home­s­tar­run­ner.

Tierra Entertainment’s excel­lent KQ remakes, King’s Quest 1 and 2 (VGA).

Scum­mVM: “A ‘vir­tual machine’ for sev­eral clas­sic graph­i­cal point-and-click adven­ture games. It is designed to run Adven­ture Soft’s Simon the Sor­cerer 1 and 2, Revolution’s Beneath A Steel Sky, and games based on LucasArts’ SCUMM (Script Cre­ation Util­ity for Maniac Man­sion) sys­tem. SCUMM is used for many games, includ­ing Mon­key Island, Day of the Ten­ta­cle, Sam and Max and more.” I’ve been able to play sev­eral of my clas­sic games and it’s all thanks to ScummVM.

Sarien: “an open source, portable imple­men­ta­tion of the Sierra On-Line Adven­ture Game Inter­preter (AGI). It is cur­rently under devel­op­ment; no production-quality pack­ages have been released. Sarien is able to exe­cute Sierra On-Line AGI games at dif­fer­ent lev­els of playa­bil­ity. Leisure Suit Larry, King’s Quest II and Mixed-Up Mother Gooose are some of the games that have been played from begin­ning to end with Sarien.

Sarien has fea­tures not present in the orig­i­nal Sierra On-Line inter­preter. These extra func­tion­al­i­ties include dou­ble hor­i­zon­tal res­o­lu­tion, enhanced color palette, dic­tio­nary and pic­ture view­ers, three-channel PCM sound, sup­port to AGDS (a Russ­ian AGI clone) games and a “Quake con­sole” with inte­grated debugger.”