Memento Deus

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Friday, October 4th, 2013
5:21 am - The Final Acts of 2013
Act I: Chicago, IllinoisCollapse )

Act II: Chicago, IllinoisCollapse )

Act III: Boston, MassachusettsCollapse )

Act IV: Boston, MassachusettsCollapse )

Act V: Chicago, IllinoisCollapse )

Act VI: Boston, MassachusettsCollapse )

(2 voiced conflicts | influence storyline)

Monday, September 30th, 2013
6:11 pm - My Equally Valid Opinion: 2013-14 "FULL SEASON NO-SKIP EXPERIENCE" PICKS EDITION
In 2006, Cam Cole wrote an article describing the NHL's immunity to logic. Every year, I set out to prove him right. This is My Equally Valid Opinion!

Hockey! A full season of hockey! Proper preseason games in September and shit! No fucking around with Gary Buttman's haphazard late-night press conferences! Weird new divisions and every team in a home-and-away and FOUR OF THE ORIGINAL SIX in every goddamn preview and how is everyone really this goddamn excited. I get that in 2005 we had just come off a completely canceled season, but we got our hockey last year, remember? Maybe I'm gettin' too old for this shit. I somehow managed to pay attention to the Blue Jays from April to now.

In a way, this season's house is just last season's nearly-toppling shanty-shack in the backyard with a new coat of paint. I don't think the power dynamic between teams has changed that much; top teams are still good, lousy teams are still bad. The one big game changer is the realignment. Let's take a look at how it'll affect the standings:

Predictions under the cut!Collapse )

(influence storyline)

Saturday, September 21st, 2013
3:11 pm - Places I've been that I'll Never go
There's places I've been that I'll never go, because I've been trapped in this forest since the Dawn of time, which was When I came to it after everything else was destroyed, which was when I was Born. I've been dead for a thousand years. When I left the forest I'll come down to the river and wait for my Shot, and when I was done doing waiting I went Back to the House (the Old House) and started Waiting for when you Got back to me; before I ditched you by the Side of the Road (the Fork In The Road) and considered us all open to enter every single option for Entering; over and over again, we compared and Compared and COMPARED them over and over; there were too many to Stay And Count so I'm leaving and you'll catch up to me in a bit I Guess. I've been dead for a thousand years. I've been Counting Time many times and this forest is full of creatures like me sustained on the water that leaks out of the green sky canopy and the charred meat this planet is at least partially Based on. It tastes a little Acidic though. When we got back together, we'll buy a motorcycle, and then we're going to drive through the door: the one we didn't get a chance to Consider because it was too far Down from Everything Else, but at Last we're at Least we're going someplace instead of standing around. I'll feed you (tea and oranges) (orange tea) (orange tease) (taste tease) this bag of cookies I bought which is obviously kinda unhealthy but hey, that's why they gave me the money before they left. We think we're going to live in this box, this cardboard box, but when the trees shook their sweat from the leaves of skin it got soaked and it's breaking down, and then those breakdancers come along and their shoes scuff it to dust and it peels away from the floor with all the subtlety of a plastic bandage tearing off a tender tendril. I've Been Dead For A Thousand Years. The worst part is the ripping: because the rip noise comes out of my mouth. Let's travel Together: let's take a quick journey down my throat. There's a correlation here between being swallowed and putting yourself in a drawer: for a little While, let's live in among the Socks, safe and warm in the thread count (Threat Count) of thousands of hundreds (hungered) (Hunted) of thousands of Thousands of

<Don't interrupt me when I'm trying to kill something,> he has to remind me. I can't help it, can't help myself. When you spend as much time in the company of a psychic as I do, you start to connect to the minds of others, and I haven't got the built-in receptor shields that he does. It flows in weird ebbs of freeform thought, almost like poetry, and I can't sort out which of them are his and which are mine, or if we're sharing them, or if part of it comes from the big slow herbivore from which he's trying to rip the throat veins. Probably, yes: it's close to death now (very close) (damn close) (synonyms for 'said') and in all likelihood its mental state is confused and rushed. When you die, your whole mind lights up, burning all the information it can into your long-term memory, just on the off-chance you survive somehow and it needs to refer back to the time you almost ate it (bit it) (bought a Piece) ("took it on the chin") to remind itself, "don't do THAT again." I know that because I died once, right before I met Clarence. He likes telling me he's been dead for a thousand years, even though we both know neither of us could've possibly been alive that long. He's the psychic wolf I'm watching try to bring this thing down so we can have supper.

(influence storyline)

Friday, July 12th, 2013
12:00 pm - Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Abdominal Certification Fjord Ghastliness Kleptomaniac Mnemonic Operator Qualification Restricted Vixenish Wysiwyg Zeitgeist.


Posted via m.livejournal.com.

(1 voiced conflict | influence storyline)

Wednesday, June 12th, 2013
8:47 am - MEVO 2013: STANLEY CUP FINAL PICK
Well, this is it. The best of the west meets the eastern beast. The invisible hand of the playoffs has determined the champions of the respective conferences, regular-season standings be damned except not really because hey, the Blackhawks won the President's Trophy. It's even like old-timey baseball, in that these guys didn't play each other all season long (and haven't since October 15th, 2011.)

So, how do you prepare for such an unknown opponent? Well, if you're Joel Quennville, apparently you start making line changes before you've even played the first shift of the series. Is he nuts, or are we? On paper, these teams should both have ferocious offenses, meat-grinder D-lines, and brick wall goaltending... but on paper, Chicago would be using the same lineup it beat LA with, not bringing in some headbanger who hasn't played since last May.

Contrary to the widespread belief that this one will go the distance, I think the Bruins take an early lead in this one and never really relinquish it, but I'll give the 'Hawks one for spoiler's sake. Boston in five. Currently 8 for 14 on calls and dead even in game estimation.

(influence storyline)

Saturday, June 1st, 2013
10:25 pm - MEVO 2013: UGH HAHA I TOTALLY FORGOT TO MAKE MY PICKS HERE edition
UGH HAHA AND I HAVE TO LEAVE FOR WORK IN TEN MINUTES HAHAHA WOW I AM LAZY, INCOMPETENT, AND FORGETFUL, I SHOULD JUST MOVE SOMEPLACE WHERE THERE IS NO INTERNET AND JUST BE A WEIRD CREEPY GUY FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE.

So anyway, "anything can happen" apparently includes "the last four teams to win the Cup can be the four conference finalists." Los Angeles over Chicago in seven and Pittsburgh over Boston in five. The Pens will probably win the big show at this point, too. Hey, I'm fan enough to pick my home team to win it in a shortened season, but I'm man enough to admit when a team is getting everything to go their way, both legitimate and illicit.

(influence storyline)

Tuesday, May 14th, 2013
3:30 am - MEVO 2013: You Tried, Caps.
Seven for eight on picks! This ties my best first-round record from 2011. And I would've had a clean sweep too, if it weren't for the STUPID NO-GOOD WASHINGTON OVECHKINS FEATURING ADAM "HEAD FULL OF" OATES blowing their 3-1 lead. Gah! Why do I always think I can trust them? Next year I'm not taking them in any playoff round, even if they make it to the final against Anaheim. (Of course, if they were playing the Ducks then I'd still root for 'em, but it'd be a "prove me wrong" scenario.) I may even take ol' #8 out of the official MEVO LJ icon.

Speaking of proving me wrong: I got three, count 'em, three callups for the second round. Ottawa over Pittsburgh in six, Detroit over Chicago in five (ha!), and Los Angeles over San Jose in four. And hey, yknow what? Rangers are the new Caps. New York over Boston in seven. Henrik Lundqvist just has to outplay Tukka Rask. #sportsmismatchsentences #exceptmaybenotreally

Currently 7 for 8 in picks, -1 in game estimation.

(influence storyline)

Tuesday, April 30th, 2013
5:59 am - My Equally Valid Opinion: 2013 PLAYOFFS ROUND ONE PICKS
Whew! That "shortened" season still felt long enough to me. Every injury, every winning and losing streak, and every decision at the trade deadline was amplified by the constricted space around it. Drop five games on a road trip in a regular year? Not a big deal. But that's ten percent of your games this year. Making the playoffs isn't just a job-well-done scenario -- it's survival. I wish we could have part-season lockouts all the time now.

The Also-Rans

New Jersey Devils (called 4th, finished 11th)

Here's the weird thing about the Devils: they only scored 112 goals, tied for second-last in the league, but they also only let in 129, better than any other non-playoff team except Columbus. In a normal year I'd call that good old-fashioned New Jersey hockey and expect Brodeur and Hedberg to step up their games down the stretch to drive the team back up into contention. This is another reason to like The Shortening: stall-and-defend tactics don't work. Every team in the playoffs is there because they went after the puck on a regular basis, except maybe a couple of guys near the bottom of the seeding. We'll get to that.

Tampa Bay Lightning (called 6th, finished 14th)

Good news, guys! Next year you won't have to worry about losing to Washington over and over again. Thanks to realignment, you can lose to Detroit over and over instead! No, but seriously, with the two top-scoring players in the league (Marty St. Brodeur in particular reminds me of Alfredsson's '07 campaign) and some actual goaltending in Ben Bishop (you're welcome!) these guys shouldn't miss the playoffs again next year. I'm not even sure how they missed them this year. They were fantastic out of the gate, and then they just fizzled. Too many one-goal losses. See ya next year, Bolts.

Philadelphia Flyers (called 7th, finished 10th)

Oh, there's the disappointing deflation from trading all their stars away two years ago. It just took longer than I thought it would, that's all. I also like how Ilya Bryzgalov completed his transition from "media darling" to "standoffish clubhouse distraction." Can you imagine if they still made the playoffs in spite of it all? Every road game there'd be a fan with a "No Napping!" sign behind the goal.

Florida Panthers (called 8th, finished dead last)

If it's any consolation, fans will actually come to watch you play in Quebec City. Also of note: the nickname "Jose Three-Or-More" fully applies this year (his GAA was 3.29).

Phoenix Coyotes (called 2nd, finished 10th)

Same as above only with "Seattle". But come on, what were you expecting? Your top three scorers were Doan, Vrbata, and Keith Yandle. Try to draft somebody useful this year, alright?

Nashville Predators (called 5th, finished 14th)

Last year: "We're signing Shea Weber to a massive deal because we're here to play!" This year: "what do you mean we're not getting any playoff revenue??" Next year: "How come we keep losing to the Jets?!" Eeesh. I still say it should've been the Preds who got shuffled east, nut I'm not a hotshot league geography planner guy. (There's probably an actual name for that job, but I'm too lazy to look it up.)

Edmonton Oilers (called 8th, finished 12th)

No playoffs? No problem! They didn't finish close enough to the bottom for a reasonable shot at another #1 draft pick, so now they can take someone they want, like a defenseman, and work at improving their standing for next year. Sooner or later at least one of these kids has to become the franchise star they're supposed to be, right? Can we get Wayne Gretzky to appear in a swirl of storm clouds and order them to rediscover their place in the Circle of Life? Hell, at this point the Oilers would probably settle for Jari Kurri in a Tim Hortons cup.

And now, the playoffs!Collapse )

(influence storyline)

Monday, March 18th, 2013
7:00 am - The feeling of a Pendant you were wearing
This one means a Cat in an old, dead reckoning of our fortunes by the times and circumstances of our births, using a now-discarded cosmology as its chart.

This one means an Unfortunate Lady in the same system. I have two because of a snake.

This one has my Name on it, but it's a Fake name, so it's not much use for identification.

This one means Good Luck, but it's too heavy for every day. You don't need the best of luck most of the time; just to keep things going is enough.

This one means a Rat. If you combine it with the others, you get a more nuanced result, but that's too hard for most people so we ignore it. After all, if you start getting too specific then you slowly lessen the number of people who disagree that it means anything, and replace them instead with people who melt down at the idea of becoming voluminous generations of mass. It also means I like having and spending money, but show me anyone who doesn't, yknow?

And this one... when I first received it, I was led to believe it gave me Self-Esteem. Turned out I'd misheard or misread, and it simply represented the deep wells of bold reflection which I already possessed. It's my oldest one, and the only one I think a little of me has rubbed into. It takes a very long time to harness useful amounts of power. If someone else wore it, then it might just do to them what I thought it did to me after all.


Posted via m.livejournal.com.

(influence storyline)

Friday, March 15th, 2013
5:15 am - I'm sorry.
If I hadn't existed, everyone would've had a much easier time of it. The teachers who wouldn't have to pass me despite knowing I should fail. The classmates who wouldn't have to put up with me ruining their perfectly good explanations of troublemaking. My parents could've had a better kid than me. Consuming guilt. Dream up promises. I want to die.

Stompin' Tom died well known and respected, calling on all of us to be better Canadians. I have only ever been in love with American women since high school. I am a disgrace to my country. I want to die.

This used to be one of my favourite songs, Neil. "When will I see you again?" Now I know, for so many of us, though we wish otherwise, the answer is "never." The plaintiveness in your voice and mine, betrayed by simple physics. I want to die.

Well, no. Having written all of this, I want to listen to "Sultans Of Swing". I am fickle? The god pulls its fangs out of my hide.


Posted via m.livejournal.com.

(influence storyline)

Sunday, March 10th, 2013
9:51 pm - MEVO 2013 NO-STAR MORE-OR-LESS HALF THE SEASON CHECK'EM'UP
Now, I'm not one of those "screw the all-star game" types. It's not my favourite weekend on the standard NHL schedule, but it's a valid excuse for a party, it gets the diehard fans a little closer to their favourite players, and hey -- I loves me some skills comp. But this? This is okay too. Shortened season, no interconference play, just hockey hockey hockey straight down to the wire. I think we should do this more often, maybe in even-numbered years with no Olympics. Besides, how are you gonna put together all-star divisions if you want to get rid of conferences entirely? (Which is to say: here's hoping. Fuck your wildcard.) Maybe we'll go back to those Gretzky-driven AMERICANADA VS. THE WORLD things like they had in the nineties. Ooh! Or we could hold a tournament with four teams, one from each division, and run four separate skills at the same time! The "fastest skater" could be done like Crashed Ice!

Alright, enough good ideas outta me. Let's see how my picks for this crazy season are doing!

Under the cut: MORE CRAZINESSCollapse )

(influence storyline)

Saturday, February 2nd, 2013
7:55 am - Happy
We're at the mall to see a friend of mine in one of those Star Wars Stormtrooper cosplayer groups. The marching is sloppy, but they look like they're having fun, pretending to blow up storefronts with their flasher-tipped "laser rifles".

There's five different Darth Vaders, too, but one of them seems to be the leader of the group. As they reach the central atrium, they do a little demonstration: the main Darth holds two fingers to his temple, and the other four raise their guns and "fire" in unison. Well, three of them fire; the fourth one doesn't hit his trigger, and the light doesn't go on the end of his gun. Huh. Darth tries again: same result. He goes up and pulls off the disobedient guy's head. Woah, this guy is old. That's commitment to realism for ya. "You still have problems losing yourself to mental commands, Luke." (Wait, Luke? The old guy is supposed to be some kind of alternate-universe Imperial Skywalker?) "What is it you want?"

The old guy is mumbling, we can barely hear him. "I- I want everyone... to be happy."

And then suddenly he's shouting: "I WANT EVERYONE TO BE HAPPY!"

And it starts to dawn on us: we are happy.

We start to walk, and then jog, and run, to the middle of the atrium. Well, some of us do. I'm a little slow off the mark so I'm still around the outskirts of the group, climbing up onto a bench, watching as the coursing throng comes together. It's like a big college sports celebration, all incomprehensible shouts and cheering, except then it starts getting rough, people shoving and cramming in harder and harder, the ones right in the middle must be getting crushed or trampled. But I still feel like I'd be really thrilled to get into the middle of that. I want to yell "PARTY!" but I know I wouldn't be heard over the noise everyone else is making. I look up: there's people pounding on the glass from the stairwell overlooking the hall. There's hundreds of them, it must be everyone who was on the second floor. Looking ahead, I can see there's more room between me and the exit. I'm pushing my way around an elderly couple (one of them looks like my grandmother) when I hear the shattering glass. I turn around: the people on the stairs cascade out off the balcony, a living tidal wave, smashing down into the crowd below. The sound of thousands of bones and bodies being broken all at once is like the crackle of a huge bonfire. Splashes of gore and blood bounce out of the carnage. A young police officer drops just in front of me, and I see her legs twist and crumple under her torso, smiling all the way down.

I finally force my legs to run out to the parking lot. More jumpers are hitting the asphalt all around me. A helicopter is wandering around the sky in wide, lazy loops. I can hear the roars of screaming humanity, so whatever is happening, it's going on all over the city, and maybe even around the world. I huddle for shelter in between two concrete barricades. Even amidst all the noise, all the suffering, through my own unstoppable flow of tears, I can't stop saying it. "I'm so happy. I'm so happy."

I'm lying on my side as I wake up. There's a long, silvery spider thread running from the ceiling down to my stereo -- oh, that's just the antenna. The ocelot leans over my shoulder, whispers in my ear. "See, people can't take that much happiness, not all at once." Pretty graphic demonstration, I tell her.

(influence storyline)

Saturday, January 26th, 2013
2:11 am - BEST OF 2012 (DELAYED) (CAPSLOCK STYLE)
I DIDN'T GET THE BEST OF 2012 OFF THE GROUND RIGHT AWAY FOR PERSONAL REASONS BUT FUCK THAT LET'S DO THIS THING RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW

"I'M THINKING OF DECLARING PERSONAL BANKRUPTCY," THE MADMAN SAYS TO NOBODY IN PARTICULAR.

I HOOKED YOU GUYS UP! I DESERVE CLOSURE.

I'D LIKE TO PRETEND THIS IS GROUNDBREAKING OR PROFOUND, BUT IT ISN'T. NOBODY'S INTERVIEWING ME. I'M NOT ON TELEVISION.

NOT ALLOWED. VERBOTEN. LOSE ANOTHER EIGHTEEN GAMES PLEASE.

BARK BARK BARK. BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK. BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK.

WE CRY, BECAUSE THERE IS NO MORE WAY FOR US TO KILL OUR FEELINGS.

RIGHT NOW I'M SUPPOSEDLY AWAKE.

NEXT SEASON THE GODS MAY NOT BE SO KIND, SO KEEP YOUR VEINÈD BLADES HANDY, FRIEND.

THIS WAS ORIGINALLY GONNA BE A POST ABOUT HOW I WAS SLOWLY LOSING MY GRIP ON REALITY AND HAD NO IDEA WHAT I WAS GOING TO DO FOR THE NEXT SIX MONTHS, BUT AS IT TURNS OUT, I'VE TOTALLY GOT A HANDLE ON IT. NO PROBLEM! LIFE IS HILARIOUS.

WE DON'T SEEM TO EXIST TO THEM, AND MAYBE THAT'S OKAY; MAYBE WE JUST NEED TO EXIST TO OURSELVES.

SHUT UP SIMONBOB SHUT UP COYOTE YOU TALK TOO MUCH NOBODY CARES

THIS TROLLEY IS A FUCKIN' TROLLEY WHICH WON'T STOP UNTIL PEOPLE ARE HAVING SEX ON BOARD.

SO I GRAB THE PHONE MYSELF AND CALL AND THE COPS ARE LIKE WE DON'T BELIEVE YOU SINCE YOU ARE CLEARLY DRUNK AND I'M ALL NO I'M NOT BUT I WAKE UP BEFORE I CAN CONVINCE THEM OTHERWISE.

WEED IS GREAT. IT'S ALL THE RELAXING AND FUN PROPERTIES OF DRINKING WITH NONE OF THE ANGER OR BRUTAL SIDE-EFFECTS. I WISH I HAD SOME. I TRIED TAKING A WHOLE BUNCH OF SLEEPING PILLS AT ONCE ONE TIME BUT IT JUST WASN'T THE SAME.

WRITING IS BULLSHIT. I SHOULD'VE BEEN A LINEBACKER.

AND I SAID TO THE WEREWOLVES, YOU ASSHOLES! YOU COULD'VE BITTEN ME SO I'D BE A WEREWOLF TOO!

WHO NEEDS BIG-LEAGUE HOCKEY? WE'VE GOT HOTSHOT YOUNGSTERS PLAYING AT 4 AM LOCAL TIME ON ONLY A WEEK'S ACCLIMATIZATION!

AW MAN, HAS TIM WHARNSBY BEEN SLEEPING ON THIS THING AGAIN?

HE'S A CAT... WHO'S ALSO A RUTABAGA.

FINALLY HE CLOSES THE BOOK TO READ THE COVER: THE "THIEVIUS CÓYOTL". THE GAME ENDS WITH HIM STARING DOWN AND MUTTERING, "THAT'S NOT TRUE... THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!" BEFORE A SUDDEN CUT TO A BLACK SCREEN.

ALSO, LEILA THE CAT WISHES TO REMIND YOU THAT PATS ARE ABHORRENT TO A KITTY-KITTY AND SHE IS THEREFORE TAKING THE GIANTS.

(influence storyline)

Tuesday, January 22nd, 2013
3:23 am - anything, you say
"What would you like to do if money were no object? How would you really enjoy spending your life?"

...Well.

First of all, I'd play video games for most of the day.

I'd sit right down on my ass, mini-fridge of club soda on my left, bowl of fruit just up and to the right, maybe behind the plate of nachos. And I'd play video games until I got bored. Then I'd watch a movie, maybe some television, whatever was good. Sports! I would have a box seat in every stadium in the country and I'd go to any event that struck my fancy. Straight up drive around the country, meet people in diners and dispense advice that maybe would stick with them or not, and then be on my way. In my incredibly hot car which I bought with my unobjectionable money. I wouldn't have to worry about speaking my mind or offending anyone, because my apologies would be attached to hundred-dollar bills.

I drive around, I stop, I play video games, I watch a movie, I get up, I drive around some more. When I run out of land I get on an airplane and fly to a new continent with new roads to drive and new movies to watch, probably in foreign languages that I don't understand. I don't have to! Money's no object! I can pay someone to explain the parts I didn't understand!

Now, at this point in the description, the counselor or student aptitude wisdom dispenser or whatever always interrupts, and says to me: "have you considered being a writer?" No. No no no. You are missing the point. I don't want to write about this shit for a living. Yeah, sometimes I like to share my experiences. I enjoy throwing down a few hundred words of godawful prose and sometimes people read it and it touches their lives for a couple of brief seconds, right? I don't enjoy writing those hundred words, padding them with two hundred more, then revising them to meet the standards of a magazine editor who's going to pay me what, twenty bucks for it? I don't have newspaper writer standards, I have very low standards. I don't even like that sentence I just wrote, or this one, there's too many commas, this whole paragraph and in fact this whole post is chock full of "I I I I I I I I I YEAHHH" sentences, but I'm way too lazy to change it. If money wasn't an object I would probably be even lazier than I already am in terms of my creative output. I'd own a telephone that would let me upload pictures to the internet, and I would just wander around snapping photographs of random things. I'd hire somebody to analyze my twitter account and all my livejournal and formspring and tumblr posts and design a program which would automatically write descriptions of these random photos in my voice. And then I'd make myself popular by giving away money every time a certain number of people followed me. I'd enter myself in road rallies and poker tournaments because why the hell not? Money cannot object!

There's this weird idea that if you like doing things which involve creative impulses, like reading books or watching movies or even playing video games, then you'll probably be good at making these things. Read books? Write books! Watch movies? Film movies! Play video games? Program video games! Using the math and science you learned in high school! You learned math and science in high school, right? That's how you make video games. There's no gym class in video games (the Madden series sells 60 million games every year) or writing either (everybody loves Portal because GLADoS and Cave Johnson say hilarious things which somebody had to think of and write down) so here, money's no object, go to school for eighteen years to learn how fucking physics works and then make a game where boxes slide off a see-saw at a world-appropriate weight and you have to jump over a fence before the ramp gets too low. But for me, making things is just an aspect of doing things which I enjoy from time to time. I'm a lazy ass motherfucker. That's it. If you gave me your hypothetical infinite supply of money, I'd waste it all, at least from the point of view of investments and returns. Because frankly, I don't care about money until it's gone.

You're asking the wrong question. What you should be wondering is what I'd do if influence was no object. If you told me, right now, that in three months, you were going to rip the latest copy of my novel off my hard drive, print it out, and give it to a hundred thousand people and they were all gonna read it? I'd be on that shit like a felon on a shortsighted armored truck driver.

(influence storyline)

Saturday, January 19th, 2013
4:43 am - My Equally Valid Opinion: "Oh No, I Don't Get To Do An All-Star Check-Em-Up This Year" Edition
In 2006, Cam Cole wrote an article describing the NHL's immunity to logic. Every year, I set out to prove him right. This is My Equally Valid Opinion!

LOCKOUT SCHMOCKOUT. I freely admit it, I'd lost all hope for a season after the G-Betts held that angry press conference where he yelled at Don Fehr for claiming that the two sides were close to a deal. It was nothing but pure egotism, which more or less explains the balance of the CBA negotiations as a whole.

On the plus side, a shortened season means no preseason games, which is great. Preseason games are such teases. They only exist so anally-retentive general managers can decide which of their fourth-liners will stay with the team to play four and a half minutes a night and/or start a fight every other game. The only way it wouldn't be a total drag is if every team had to do a "Hockeyville" type thing where they played in a thousand-seat local arena. Those are much better than the average "young guy trying too hard to make the lineup leaves his feet for a headshot and ends up with a suspension" matches which litter the landscape. Now we get our sloppy play and cold, flat-footed goalies right off the bat in games that actually matter. I CAN'T WAIT, and thanks to the lack of preseason I don't HAVE to wait either. Glorious! Let's get on with some picks.

WARNING: post-lockout picks are even more volatile than usual!Collapse )

current mood: less than twelve hours before the first game is still technically "on time"

(influence storyline)

Saturday, January 5th, 2013
8:34 am - My cat predicts the 2013 NFL Playoffs: Wild Card Weekend Edition


My cat Leila is super adorable and uses a logic entirely unique to herself. In other words, she's a cat. This gives her a massive evolutionary advantage over your average NFL pundit, so naturally I call upon her feline instincts to pick football teams in the playoffs. She picks straight up, I pick against the Pro-Line spread, and last year she beat me even though we both did terribly. There, now you're all caught up.

Bengals at Texans

Leila: Cincinnati, obviously. Indeed, being the only cat-based team left, the Bengals are Leila's early pick to win the Super Bowl this year. I told her they were a dark horse and she started to correct me ("horses aren't cats") before suddenly getting startled and running upstairs.
Me: Houston at -4.5. Yeah, yeah, they peaked too early, they slumped down the stretch, they're up against a HAWT YOUNG TEAM who forced their way in against the likes of the Steelers and Ravens. But c'mon, look at those respective last quarter schedules. The Bengals didn't so much win as the Ravens lost (a whopping 189 yards! And Gradkowski had 65 of those!!) and anybody could beat the Eagles after such a horribly mind-numbing year in Philly. Meanwhile, the Texans were up against a Patriots team that wanted to humilate them, Vikings trying to stay alive in the playoff race, and a Colts squad avenging themselves for a loss from two weeks earlier. So they weren't desperate enough to go for the bye -- so what? Green Bay went for it and all it got 'em was a tired bench. Speaking of which...

Vikings at Packers

Leila: Among the events which transpired this year was the revelation of my cat's secret middle name: "Greymalkin". Very fierce, no? She thinks so. And Vikings are fierce too, so she's taking them.
Me: Minnesota at +8. Green Bay really did themselves a disservice by not taking care of business last week, and that always comes back to bite you in the ass. I just pulled that statement out of my ass, because I'm too lazy to go on wikip and see if it's actually true. But it sounds good, doesn't it? The Vikings know they can beat this team now, and all they have to do is put in their Lambeau-frequency heckle-resistant earplugs and give the ball to Adrian Peterson on eighty percent of their plays.

Colts at Ravens

Leila: is indifferent to birds (once again, she completely ignored the turkey on christmas) and thinks she would look majestic riding across the plains on a charging stallion. I think it would scare the hell out of her, but she's taking Indy anyway.
Me: Ravens at -6.5. I want to say I'm taking them because I think Flacco's got the experience and poise to make it happen, but really, I'm just looking forward to all the variations on "LUCK RUNS OUT" in the headlines on Monday.

Seahawks at Redskins

Leila: Because my old lady only buys FANCY FEAST GRASS-INFUSED EMERALD SUPER CAT MEAL in the multi-can package, we sometimes have to feed Leila chicken. And because my old lady is insane she assumes that Leila will be super-finicky and not eat it unless she calls it "land tuna". I just toss the dish on the floor and walk off; cats will eat anything eventually as long as you're not watching them. Point is, I told Leila the "Seahawks" were in this game and she got all suspicious and took Washington. I think she also thinks a "redskin" is like a red snapper or rainbow trout or something.
Me: Seattle at -3.0. Nobody seems to have noticed that nobody's noticing Russell Wilson, have you noticed that? Every single commentator has brought up Wilson just to tell us that nobody's brought him up. He's the most visible unnoticeable player in the league. The Seattle fanbase has been oddly quiet on the subject, though. Normally when you get one of these "unnoticed" stories, it comes with a glut of screaming tailgaters telling anyone who will listen how fantastic and underrated their guy is, even though everyone is saying nobody's talking about him. You know who's really unnoticed in all this? Pete Carroll, that's who. Coach Pete beat the Saints with this team when they were 7-9. You think he's gonna have any trouble outcoaching Shanahan? Better luck next year, RG3.

(influence storyline)

Tuesday, December 25th, 2012
5:16 pm - MEVO 2012: GODDAMN STUPID LOCKOUT WORLD JRS. PREDICTION EDITION
I'm not even gonna bother talking about the lockout. It's over, okay kids? It was over the night Gary Bettman flipped out on national Canadian sports television because his opponent in this glorified chess-boxing match, Don Fehrleone, dared to insinuate that things were going okay. Yes, the season is going to be canceled because Gary got angry at the players' association for being too optimistic. How dare they! DEAL'S OFF THE TABLE.

So, fuck it. The Toronto media conspiracy, unable to generate interest in the Marlies beyond the Bloor & Yonge intersection, are moving on... to the BIG JUNIOR TOURNAMENT in Ufa, Russia! Who needs big-league hockey? We've got hotshot youngsters playing at 4 am local time on only a week's acclimatization! And hey, I'm not immune: my inability to post really awful predictions of doom for NHL teams I don't like, followed by middling-at-best playoff calls, has really weighed on me these past few months. Between this and the upcoming Spengler Cup (and we're definitely winning that, HC Davos be damned) I'm lapping up all the puckhandling they'll shovel at me. A man cannot live on 67s games alone, especially not this man with the way his team is going, now that our core players from the last four seasons have all graduated.

To that end, I'm pleased to present My Equally Valid Opinion: "So Bored With The Lockout" World Juniors Predictions Edition!

Find out how it all goes wrong for every team in the tournament!Collapse )

(influence storyline)

Tuesday, December 11th, 2012
1:29 pm - Having inadvertently watched "Escape From LA"
while looking for something to multitask with while leveling up in Dragon Warrior II, I went to read the wikip article afterwards (as is my practise with most movies, awful or otherwise) and eventually came around to the concept of death drive. Freud suggested -- never really seemed to codify, but I might not be reading it deeply enough -- that there was a matching urge which acted against the movement towards life: the "death drive" against the "pleasure principle". A strange trend towards eliminating evolutions and bringing organic material back to its initial, inactive state.

When I was in the eighth grade, someone (a guidance counselor? but in a group session, I think) got us to name rights and matching responsibilities. "We have the right to drive a car, but the responsibility to drive it safely" and other shitless platitudes like that. I was the last to go, and I came up with "the right to live, and the responsibility to die," which I thought was pretty clever. In retrospect, maybe it was just superficial: they were simple opposites, and I hadn't gone through it more than "nobody can tell us when to stop living but eventually we have to decay or else there won't be enough space and resources for our kids." I certainly wasn't expecting the virulent reaction I got from my classmates, to the point that our main teacher got wind of it and went through a whole big explanation of why I was completely wrong. I wish I remembered what she said, exactly. At the time I was merely stunned that I'd hit such a sensitive nerve.

The drive to die, was all I meant. The natural progression of decay which slowly encompasses all things, no matter how long we may stave it off. They were probably right, at least, in objecting to my vocabulary usage. Thanatos' embrace may or may not be responsibility, but is certainly inevitability.

current mood: philosophical

(1 voiced conflict | influence storyline)

Wednesday, December 5th, 2012
8:23 pm - I should not read poetry
Poetry evokes thoughtfulness, a level of reflection, necessary to put words and rhythms in the right places. I whip off a few hundred words in fifteen minutes and call it a day. It's not that there's anything wrong with either of these approaches, but when I've just read poetry I start thinking maybe I'm poetic too, and then I want to write all these flowery little passages chock full of metaphors and shit and it all comes out badly and sucks and I hate it.

Writing is bullshit. I should've been a linebacker.

(influence storyline)

Monday, December 3rd, 2012
2:04 pm - what happened to hockey
As goes hockey, it seems, so goes my livejournal. No hockey = no MEVO updates = no checking LJ = no arbitrary writing on tangential subjects. Meanwhile, tumblr seems to absorb my time more and more. There are less than five people active on my friendlist here; over there, it is a constant nonstop stream of writing and artwork, all easily shared or favoured at the click of a button. Technology is ruinous. What else is new.

I only just remembered LJ because people are starting to do "year in review" memes (we're only three days into December! what are you doing) and I realized I wouldn't have barely even nothin' to post in my usual "best of year" here. But I looked back at my archive and I've got plenty of posts from the beginning of the year. It's only recently I got distracted after all. Looking around like this is strange. I feel like everyone else has a dedicated first-person view button, but when I zoom in for a better look, it's more like the closeup in Mario 64, where you only have 180 degrees of rotation and Mario's head is in the way. I'm staring at myself when I really want to examine things outwardly.

I'm even reblogging things on tumblr as I write this post. My foot's fallen asleep. I'm so fucking distracted with myself.

(influence storyline)


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