You seen the Wii U promo video from E3? That’s not really what I came here to talk about. What I came to talk about is this oddball bit at the very beginning, where this kid’s playing Mario and his dad’s like "hey, time for baseball" and just like shuts the game off, and then they watch this hilariously fake baseball game:
I sure hope the Whites beat the Blues! But never mind that. Do you see anything in this picture that seems off at all? I mean, other than the general half-assedness of the whole thing. Anything in particular? Here, I’ve circled the bit I’m talking about:
Fruit & Fruit? Fuck the heck? And what about that typeface? And the logo style? Have we seen this somewhere before? If only I could remember where…
Oh. I see. Naughty, naughty, Nintendo! Either you’re trying to sell gay sex toys to the innocent children of America, or else you’re making insensitive jokes about gay people and sex toys. And if there’s one thing I learned while I was in Uganda, it’s that being gay is bad, but lying is worse. So admit it, Nintendo!
June 13th, 2011
Posted by
Darien |
Bullshit, Games |
no comments
Good thing for Johnny Damon that he’s not a superhero, then.
May 27th, 2011
Posted by
Darien |
Bullshit |
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You’ve heard them all. They’re trying to downplay what really happened. They’re afraid people will panic. Well, if you’re the type of person who panics when unexplainable supernatural forces reach their cold, dead hands into your ordinary life, then you better get the fuck ready to panic right now. And when I say "right now," I really mean four days ago.
The Rapture? Totally did happen. But in an ironic twist, the only person Raptured was me. Gotta admit: I pretty much saw that one coming. But here’s a message for all you suckers from my new doubles partner, the Lord: better luck next dispensation!
Tell you the truth? You didn’t really miss all that much. Turns out the whole thing was just a big time share presentation anyhow. They wanted to sell me "vacation ownership" in some big damn resort they’re building up there. Kind of an offer you can’t refuse, really, so now I’m the proud owner of one week of Heaven every year, with an option to exchange it for a week in, you know… some other place.
In other news, I’m back from being Raptured now. What’s been happening in this dispensation? To the Mets, I mean. Wait, Fred Wilpon did what?
May 25th, 2011
Posted by
Darien |
Bullshit |
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So I guess you’ve heard: tomorrow’s the day. All of us Real True Christians are going to be taken up into Heaven — without dying, mind you — and all the rest of you fucking heathens will be left behind to get to Heaven (or wherever) the regular way. As in, by dying. Suckers.
Personally, I’m not convinced about this whole "Rapture" deal. It seems pretty clear to me that the world still has three weeks left before we all head to the big Game Over in the sky. But I’m not taking any chances; my affairs are in order, I’ve made my Rapture survival kit for the benefit of my less-belovéd-by-God relatives, and — perhaps most importantly — I have not preordered Duke Nukem Forever until I’ve made sure this isn’t all part of some joke George Broussard and the Lord thought up one day over beers.
If you think I don’t post often enough now, wait until you see what happens after I get Raptured.
May 20th, 2011
Posted by
Darien |
Bullshit, Games |
no comments
I bumped into this whilst bonking around the ‘tubes this evening, and I found it rather interesting. The gist of it (for those of you who can’t be arsed to follow the link) is as such: a blind man learns to recognise a cube and a sphere by touch. If a cube and a sphere are placed before him, and his sight is miraculously restored, would he be able to tell them apart just by looking at them?
John Locke and William Molyneaux said no. I’m assuming that Peter Molyneaux also says no, but fuck him. Darien, on reflection, says yes. Here’s why.
First, we need to lay down some fundamental assumptions; ground rules, if you will, that were left vague in the original problem statement. Feel free to call me out on any of these if you think they "cheat" the problem in the man’s favour; to my mind, they seem to stack it against him, but what do I know anyhow.
• The only two objects the man can see are the sphere and the cube, so he can’t see (for example) the cube-like corners of the table and infer from that that the one that feels most like the edge of the table and the one that looks most like the edge of the table are the same object.
• The man has not done any complex study or preparation. He unerringly knows the difference between the objects by touch, but does not understand the mathematical principles of "sphere" and "cube," so he can’t cheat by falling back on any theoretical knowledge.
• The man has been totally blind since birth; no hazy memories to be drudged up.
Even given these strictures, I still think the man can do it. The reason is that there is one fundamental property that I believe he can translate from the tactile to the visual, and that property is regularity. The sphere looks exactly the same from any angle of view, and feels the same from any angle of touch. The cube does not, and does not. Note that this answer does not rely on the man having any preconceived notion of what things "should" look like — only the ability to recognise when two images are not identical (without which the whole experiment is moot anyhow).
Now, it is the case that this answer relies on a peculiarity of the sphere; I concede that he probably cannot, under the same conditions, distinguish a cube from an octahedron. But I don’t think that’s disingenuous on my part; those were the conditions of the problem as stated. And I do believe I’m correct. Any thoughts?
April 2nd, 2011
Posted by
Darien |
Bullshit |
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I haven’t been around so much lately, as I expect you’ve noticed. Yes, there is a reason, and, no, that reason is not that I’m a lazy half-wit. Actually, I’ve suffered a severe bout of crippling hand injury, and typing with just my off-hand blows. So I’ve not been doing that.
But how did I get hurt, you ask? I mean, I’m eleven feet tall and made entirely of rock music and sex, so clearly it was something serious. Well, as a matter of fact, I got hurt while I was saving your life. In the future.
Here’s how it went down. My robot sidekick and I were hunting General Gus for… reasons that aren’t very clear to me in hindsight, but which will be very important in the year 20XX. We finally caught up with him in the big power plant factory room in your apartment (all apartments have those in the future) just after he had killed your husband and/or wife and was about to kill you too. Then he turned big and pink for some strange reason, and I had to bionic-punch the shit out of him. Like, a lot. I had to punch the fucker for almost a minute before he finally exploded! Here’s a futuristic local news station’s footage of the climactic battle.
All that punching takes its toll on even my robotic tendons, forged though they are from the very thunderbolts of mighty Zeus. So the end result is they’re a bit knackered, and playing so much goddamn Dawn of War 2: Retribution didn’t help matters any. So my left hand is currently out for maintenance is what I’m saying, and typing’s a bitch. And also you owe me.
No, seriously, you do. So pay up, Mr. I-Don’t-Believe-The-Future-Even-Though-I’m-Not-From-The-Future-Like-Some-People-Are. Oh, and, uh, sorry about your apartment.
March 10th, 2011
Posted by
Darien |
Bullshit, Meta-meta |
2 comments
You hear the bit about how he said — publicly — that he hopes Michael Vick gets injured? Classy, Mark!
Get a load of this garbage:
Buehrle is a dog owner and animal rights advocate.
Buehrle also is an avid hunter, and was asked how he responded to those who say someone who kills animals has no right to criticize Vick.
"Hunting is a sport. There are hunting stores out there," Buehrle said.
Now, don’t get the wrong idea; I’m not an animal rights advocate. I’ve thought about becoming one, but then I realised that I had a prior engagement with not being a moron. But that’s not really the point here. The point is that it takes a special kind of stupid to go out and intentionally harm and kill animals for sport, and then publicly wish harm on other people for doing the exact same thing. And then to poop out the lamest justification I’ve ever heard in my life.
In case you think Buehrle’s not actually saying what I make it sound like he’s saying, he clarifies:
"If that’s illegal, shame on my dad, shame on my grandpa, his grandpa. It’s kind of been brought up throughout the history of America," he said. "The last time I knew dogfighting was a sport was never."
The ultimate arbiter of morality in Mark Buehrle’s mind: the government. Well played, Mark! Well played, indeed.
Just keep in mind that, according to Mark Buehrle, owning slaves in Virginia in the 1830s would not be at all inconsistent with being a human rights advocate.
February 17th, 2011
Posted by
Darien |
Baseball, Bullshit |
no comments
Guess who needs a heavily-armed posse to protect her from a 71-year-old man’s outrageous attempt to ignore her while she’s running her fucking face? Did you guess Secretary of Cunt Luciferia Clinton? Then you’re the big winner today! Get a load of how offensively smug she is while her hired goons are beating the shit out of an unarmed, defenseless old man whose sole crime is not giving her the respect she wrongly thinks she’s earned:
Dear Hillary: I will fight you. Name the time, name the place, we’ll throw down. See who’s really big shit. I mean, don’t get me wrong; I’m probably the very very weakest man imaginable, but I’d still say the smart money’s on me over some worthless old bag who can’t even handle somebody ignoring her without calling on hired thugs. Who she paid for with money she stole from me in the first place.
So let’s do this. You, me, whatever apparatus you need to get your dilapidated saggy ass hoisted upright so you can walk. Just for your edification, I’ve made a short comic strip detailing how this will end up:
I just got off the phone with Dante, and he confirmed my long-held suspicion that there’s a top secret tenth circle of Hell reserved exclusively for Jason Voorhees, Freddy Kreuger, and Hillary Clinton. So, Hill, when I’m done with you, that’s going to seem pretty good. Because you can forget about the People’s Elbow — People’s Elbow? I’ma drop the People’s Elbow, People’s Forearm, People’s Fist, People’s Knee, and People’s Probably Against The Rules Eye Gouge on you, and, if you’re real lucky, I’ll finish it up by ramming the People’s Boot up your wrinkly old ass. You’ll be begging for Jason to take you away just like he took all the camp councilors away in whichever Friday the Thirteenth movie it is where he kills all the camp councilors. Or the one where he’s in space, which was fucked up.
If you ignore my challenge, that’s fine. We’ll all know what a ridiculous pussy you are. If you can’t stand up to me, for fuck’s sake, you clearly ain’t got much going on. For extra comedy points, of course, you can always send your hired thugs after me. I’m not scared. You can silence me with guns and clubs and like fucking Martian nark-nark guns like we all know you’re hording in your secret government vault right by the Ark of the Covenant, but you can never silence all the internet assholes calling you out.
Unless you make like Hosni and actually shut down the infrastructure, anyway. Which would add awesome irony style points to the whole affair.
February 17th, 2011
Posted by
Darien |
Bullshit |
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Don’t worry, New York Mets — Super Mario Cuomo’s on the case! Perhaps when he gets done vanquishing all evil everywhere he can find the time to tell his son to ditch that awful boozy old whore.
February 10th, 2011
Posted by
Darien |
Bullshit |
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Once again, I’m taking that bold leap into a few years ago: you can now follow me on the Twitter if I ever decide to twit anything. Sometimes I get real bored and sign up for this Web 2.0 or Web 3.11 or Web for Workgroups or whatever nonsense, which also explains why I have a Foursquare account. Let’s see if I use this one a little bit more.
February 5th, 2011
Posted by
Darien |
Bullshit, Meta-meta |
no comments
