<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247</id><updated>2012-01-25T09:29:34.926-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Transmissions from the Vault</title><subtitle type='html'>- the result of a mental stack overflow -</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>38</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-6204100404244051315</id><published>2010-02-28T02:45:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-28T03:47:47.141-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tell me all your thoughts on God</title><content type='html'>After my last post here, I received lots of different responses. Phone calls, facebook messages, in-person "how are you doing"s. The one thing they all had in common, though, was that they focused on one particular line in that post: "I don't believe in God." The first thing I want to make clear is that I didn't mean that I believe that God/gods/god doesn't/don't exist. I have no idea, and that's the whole point of the post. I'm looking for answers. Despite the fact that it has a nice, lyrical ring to it, I can no longer accept "for the bible tells me so" as a foundation for a world view. But that's not what I want to focus on. I want to know why that line was singled out from everything I said in that post. I suppose it's because for most people I know, the belief in a higher power informs all their decisions. Is that the right way to look at the world? Clearly, if the Christian God exists, it's a great world view. But what if he doesn't? Is it still a good thing? The case could be made that, right or wrong, living a Christian life is better than nihilism. Maybe I should just stick with the Christianity thing and hope heaven is real. That seems like an awfully ignorant way to go through life, though. I'm not satisfied with accepting things based on faith or tradition or upbringing; I have to know how things work. "God works in mysterious ways" is not anything resembling an answer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of everyone that responded to "Adult Life" only one person asked me about the relationship I alluded to. Talking to him about her was much more cathartic than I could have imagined. Why did everyone else focus on the spiritual side of things when it was clear that I was/am having much more tangible issues? I certainly don't mean to insult the people who wrote me about my belief in God, because I really do appreciate those discussions. But, again, why focus on that? Would I have avoided that relationship or those problems with a firm belief in God? Would a stronger faith have prevented me from being in that situation? I really don't know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post is rambling and incoherent, but it mirrors my thoughts in that way. Like I said last time, I have a lot of questions. I honestly appreciate everyone who has talked to me about these things, and I hope to continue those discussions. I know that no one has all the answers I need (or no one can give them to me, at least), but I want to hear how you answers these questions for yourself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-6204100404244051315?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/6204100404244051315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=6204100404244051315' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/6204100404244051315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/6204100404244051315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2010/02/tell-me-all-your-thoughts-on-god.html' title='Tell me all your thoughts on God'/><author><name>Austin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04110012998383188405</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-2972167456413813082</id><published>2010-02-19T00:26:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T00:47:04.097-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Adult Life</title><content type='html'>I've lived in Houston for more than a year now. I've done lots of adult things, like buying a car, figuring out how insurance works, renting an apartment, doing my taxes. I've dated a lot, too. A woman 6 years older, a girl 3 years younger. I said "I love you" for the first time in years. I heard it repeated back to me for the first time in even longer. I've said, done, written, and thought things that I'm not proud of. Things I would take back given half a chance. I've missed opportunities and blown second chances. My phone number has been blocked. I've been slapped across the face. I stopped going to church. I don't know how to tell my parents that I don't believe in God. I've lost friends. I've gained new ones. I've shouted and cried and begged and fought but never for the right people or at the right time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how to be an adult. I don't know how to sustain relationships. I'd like to think that I act with the best of intentions but I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm actually incredibly selfish. On the other hand, I seem to need someone to be infatuated with. How do I reconcile those things? How do I get what I want? How do I know that what I want is what I need?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These questions pile and pile on, and I just don't have any answers for them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-2972167456413813082?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/2972167456413813082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=2972167456413813082' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/2972167456413813082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/2972167456413813082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2010/02/adult-life.html' title='Adult Life'/><author><name>Austin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04110012998383188405</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-1037179406619747798</id><published>2009-07-29T15:27:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T15:30:27.655-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Technology and the Modern Road Trip</title><content type='html'>I spent this past weekend driving around the state of Louisiana, collect counties (or "parishes" as The Bayou State calls them) for Carey's collection of intangible things he's done or places he's been to. Before you get all huffy and say that you're sick of these "trip report" posts, let me just say that what we did and saw is not the point. The pictures can be found &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2103483&amp;id=71001250&amp;ref=mf"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; if you're interested in that sort of thing. What I want to talk about is how technology has changed the way we travel. This was my first long car trip since the advent cellphones with internet access, and it made for a very different experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The three of us (Erick came too) set out Friday afternoon, packing 2 laptops, 2 cameras, 3 GPS-and-internet-enabled phones, an AC adapter, and a powerstrip to plug it all into. With the exception of the occasional cellular dead zone, we were never without immediate access to the all the incredible resources the internet has to offer. Wikipedia, Google, YouTube, maps, news, traffic reports, or the answer to any question was just quick dig into a pocket away. When someone said "I wonder...", we didn't have to discuss or argue the issue in question, we just looked it up. Getting lost is completely impossible when you have a device that tells you where you are. When we were hungry, our phones told us not only what restaurants were nearby, but how good they were according to other travelers' reviews. At one point, while we were at an ancient Native American settlement, I pulled out my phone and showed Erick and Carey a satellite view of field we were walking in. Read that sentence again. A satellite view. I looked at a display that I held in my hand and saw myself represented as a glowing blue dot on a picture from outer space. That is just incredible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was a kid, I read a lot sci-fi; specifically the Star Wars expanded universe stuff. The books would describe things similar to ipods and laptop computers, things that seemed so far-fetched and impossible at the time. If I could travel back in time and give my 10 year-old self my iPhone, his head would explode. Maybe we accept things like that today because the change has been so gradual. Maybe the iPhone isn't mind-blowing because we had car-phones first and worked our way up, but I think it's important to step back every once in a while and try to get some perspective on the role that technology plays in our lives. I belong to the last generation that grew up not having the internet, but my kids will have all the world's information at their fingertips just as soon as they can operate a phone or computer. Will the next generation even want to go on road trips or will they be satisfied with the YouTube version?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-1037179406619747798?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/1037179406619747798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=1037179406619747798' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/1037179406619747798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/1037179406619747798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2009/07/technology-and-modern-road-trip.html' title='Technology and the Modern Road Trip'/><author><name>Austin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04110012998383188405</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-2658797180750629223</id><published>2009-05-01T14:33:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T14:41:34.233-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Houston, as seen through a cellphone camera</title><content type='html'>I've lived in Houston for 4 whole months now! Can you believe it? I, for one, cannot. Time has been going by really quickly now that I have a normal, 9-5 job. This comes in really handy when waiting for new movies or games to be released: "When is that Wolverine movie coming out? Oh, Today?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got some thoughts bouncing around in my head that I will be committing to this page soon, but for now I thought I'd just post a few pictures of what I've been doing the last 4 months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're out of space at our current location, so I share my "office" with the test lab.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SftPo6pqzoI/AAAAAAAAASA/mWNAXT8yEa8/s1600-h/photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SftPo6pqzoI/AAAAAAAAASA/mWNAXT8yEa8/s400/photo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330942148280503938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My desk, and some test models of the equipment we make&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SftQDnje-wI/AAAAAAAAASw/jo18DcSzM-M/s1600-h/photo(7).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SftQDnje-wI/AAAAAAAAASw/jo18DcSzM-M/s400/photo(7).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330942607010757378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes they let me touch the insides&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SftPoyw_AcI/AAAAAAAAASI/HYsTz083Thk/s1600-h/photo(2).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SftPoyw_AcI/AAAAAAAAASI/HYsTz083Thk/s400/photo(2).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330942146163704258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This thing will kill you in a variety of ways&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SftPpZfwO7I/AAAAAAAAASg/MavoMw-uaGI/s1600-h/photo(5).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SftPpZfwO7I/AAAAAAAAASg/MavoMw-uaGI/s400/photo(5).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330942156560415666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Southwest Petroleum Conference in Lubbock. It was about as exciting as it looks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SftPpQEsaVI/AAAAAAAAASY/Xpk6SXe6KVM/s1600-h/photo(4).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SftPpQEsaVI/AAAAAAAAASY/Xpk6SXe6KVM/s400/photo(4).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330942154030999890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Dogfish Head Film Festival at the Alamo Drafthouse in Austin. Great weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SftPpIDvtWI/AAAAAAAAASQ/d7NPUzeG-EI/s1600-h/photo(3).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SftPpIDvtWI/AAAAAAAAASQ/d7NPUzeG-EI/s400/photo(3).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330942151879538018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture was taken just seconds before they were surrounded by black SUV's, never to be seen again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SftQDuU29cI/AAAAAAAAASo/YRL24VF4moM/s1600-h/photo(6).jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SftQDuU29cI/AAAAAAAAASo/YRL24VF4moM/s400/photo(6).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330942608828462530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned for actual content!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-2658797180750629223?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/2658797180750629223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=2658797180750629223' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/2658797180750629223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/2658797180750629223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2009/05/houston-as-seen-through-cellphone_01.html' title='Houston, as seen through a cellphone camera'/><author><name>Austin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04110012998383188405</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SftPo6pqzoI/AAAAAAAAASA/mWNAXT8yEa8/s72-c/photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-6447775782193388782</id><published>2009-02-13T13:16:00.015-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-13T15:14:55.494-06:00</updated><title type='text'>OwlCon 2009</title><content type='html'>The last few weeks, I've been having a great time hanging out with some people that I met through the Something Awful forums. Having seen so many PSA's on the subject, I was understandably nervous about meeting up with strangers from the internet, but most of them have turned out to be (relatively) normal and a lot of fun. Last weekend, I went with Carey, one of the guys I met the first night with the goons, to OwlCon, a board gaming convention hosted annually by Rice University. I only attended 1 out of 3 days, but really enjoyed being there and playing games with people. Between (and during) games, I walked around a took a few pictures to show the rest of the world what a board game convention looks like. Click for the large versions!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These guys were playing something really generic-sounding and forgettable, like "Witchmage" or "Dragonspire" or something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SZXRRZUK3gI/AAAAAAAAAPo/OykRxC5ugcs/s1600-h/DSC_0029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SZXRRZUK3gI/AAAAAAAAAPo/OykRxC5ugcs/s400/DSC_0029.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302374233082093058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note the tape measures&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SZXTMsyF65I/AAAAAAAAAPw/cVNTXbncHkY/s1600-h/DSC_0032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SZXTMsyF65I/AAAAAAAAAPw/cVNTXbncHkY/s400/DSC_0032.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302376351431781266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably the nerdiest thing I have ever seen in my life: Playing World of Warcraft while sitting inside a MechWarrior simulator while also attending a board gaming convention&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SZXUn3R4QvI/AAAAAAAAAP4/X3sEbQJaZR4/s1600-h/DSC_0038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SZXUn3R4QvI/AAAAAAAAAP4/X3sEbQJaZR4/s400/DSC_0038.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302377917617554162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some sort of large D&amp;D style game&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SZXZWREFmkI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/-G6jCxTlWgM/s1600-h/DSC_0041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SZXZWREFmkI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/-G6jCxTlWgM/s400/DSC_0041.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302383112859523650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DM at work&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SZXbA09L9qI/AAAAAAAAAQY/NLaacX0cT8I/s1600-h/DSC_0044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SZXbA09L9qI/AAAAAAAAAQY/NLaacX0cT8I/s400/DSC_0044.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302384943560390306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of the games Carey ran that weekend, Order of the Stick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SZXcCclMZYI/AAAAAAAAAQg/lW_Rp7Gejsc/s1600-h/DSC_0047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SZXcCclMZYI/AAAAAAAAAQg/lW_Rp7Gejsc/s400/DSC_0047.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302386070888670594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm the one with the beard&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SZXczM2vZzI/AAAAAAAAAQo/DNtWK0_80_s/s1600-h/DSC_0055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SZXczM2vZzI/AAAAAAAAAQo/DNtWK0_80_s/s400/DSC_0055.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302386908480890674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took about 4 hours to play, and that was using the Quick Game rules&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SZXdoHLyxJI/AAAAAAAAAQw/2U0YLmAty8I/s1600-h/DSC_0067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SZXdoHLyxJI/AAAAAAAAAQw/2U0YLmAty8I/s400/DSC_0067.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302387817491645586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a critical battle toward the end of the game. Carey, the one in the glasses, ended up winning it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SZXeugm1JcI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/KCod7PiuNMY/s1600-h/DSC_0068.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SZXeugm1JcI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/KCod7PiuNMY/s400/DSC_0068.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302389026906777026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-6447775782193388782?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/6447775782193388782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=6447775782193388782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/6447775782193388782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/6447775782193388782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2009/02/owlcon-2009.html' title='OwlCon 2009'/><author><name>Austin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04110012998383188405</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G19FQPEmWfg/SZXRRZUK3gI/AAAAAAAAAPo/OykRxC5ugcs/s72-c/DSC_0029.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-5053946731500013469</id><published>2009-02-05T09:51:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T09:59:22.514-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Aaaand We're Back...</title><content type='html'>It's been so long since I've posted that I'm having trouble figuring out how to start. I typed and deleted about 4 different sentences before settling on that one, and I'm still not happy with it. I haven't written anything here since August, and I have a lot to tell you about, so I'm just going to hit the highlights for now, and (hopefully) elaborate later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;August through November was pretty uneventful. Since it was my last semester at Harding, I only took 7 hours of classes, which meant that I spent most of my time watching movies and playing video games. I went to a few parties with my roommate, but that whole scene didn't really appeal to me. The only major event that comes to mind out of that whole period of time was finally getting back down to a reasonable weight after months of running and dieting and lifting weights and saying "no" to taco bell (170 lbs, down from 220 at the first of the year). Oh, and I can't forget "sailing" with Grant...that was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;December was when things got &lt;i&gt;real&lt;/i&gt;. I realized that I would be graduating at the end of the month without a job, so I kicked the job search into high gear. I had been applying for various positions online, but that turned out to be an incredible waste of time. Do people really get hired from sites like Monster or CareerBuilder? I started asking around, trying to make real life contacts instead of firing my resume into the black hole that is internet job-searching. One of my professors had sent around an email with names of people who were interested in hiring Harding students, so I found one on the list that looked interesting ("Houston? Payton lives in Houston!") and sent him my resume. The &lt;i&gt;next day&lt;/i&gt; I had a phone interview, and the next week they were flying me to Houston to interview in person. After two nervous weeks of waiting, they offered me the job! This is where things get crazy. I accepted the job on December 19. They wanted me to start on January 5. Between those two dates, I finished my final finals, packed up my apartment, graduated, went to Zach and Beth's wedding, moved all my stuff to Oklahoma with my grandparents, had Christmas there, moved my stuff to Lubbock, had Christmas there, flew to Houston to find an apartment, celebrated the New Year in Lubbock, celebrated the New Year in Dallas, moved all my stuff to Houston, unpacked into my new apartment and started work. It was, uh, hectic, to say the least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now I'm in Houston and absolutely loving it. I'll write a longer post soon about how incredibly rad Houston is, but for now just take my word for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I broke down and got a twitter account, which I have really been enjoying. Follow me at www.twitter.com/AustinPettyjohn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, here are some things that I've been enjoying lately that I think you might enjoy as well:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music:&lt;br /&gt;-Blitzen Trapper&lt;br /&gt;-Delta Spirit&lt;br /&gt;-Electric President&lt;br /&gt;-Janelle Monae&lt;br /&gt;-MF Doom&lt;br /&gt;-MGMT&lt;br /&gt;-Old Crow Medicine Show&lt;br /&gt;-Ra Ra Riot&lt;br /&gt;-Sister Nancy&lt;br /&gt;-The Walkmen&lt;br /&gt;-Titus Andronicus&lt;br /&gt;-Wolf Parade&lt;br /&gt;-Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TV:&lt;br /&gt;-Battle&lt;i&gt;friggin&lt;/i&gt;star Galactica&lt;br /&gt;-8 out of 10 Cats&lt;br /&gt;-Lost (yeah, I know...)&lt;br /&gt;-The Big Bang Theory&lt;br /&gt;-Flight of the Conchords&lt;br /&gt;-30 Rock (seriously, you should be watching this)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-5053946731500013469?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/5053946731500013469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=5053946731500013469' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/5053946731500013469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/5053946731500013469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2009/02/aaaand-were-back.html' title='Aaaand We&apos;re Back...'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-4448994369188882915</id><published>2008-08-02T16:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T17:10:21.448-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Artificial Intelligence Review</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SJTbQsYgDTI/AAAAAAAAAB4/ULSr_X3wA0c/s1600-h/ai_poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SJTbQsYgDTI/AAAAAAAAAB4/ULSr_X3wA0c/s320/ai_poster.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230046147122302258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Artificial Intelligence: AI (2001)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Directed by: Steven Spielberg&lt;br /&gt;Starring: Haley Joel Osment, Jude Law, William Hurt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a sucker for intelligent science fiction, but I'm not a huge fan of Spielberg's takes on the genre, so I had avoided AI until I learned that Stanley Kubrick (one of my all-time favorite directors) was involved in its pre-production before his death in 1999. I popped this in last night without much knowledge of or preconceptions about its story or themes, hoping to see his hand at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AI is the story of an android or "Mecha" child named David (Osment) who, unlike all other Mecha, is built with the ability to love. He is adopted by a family whose only child is stuck in a cryogenic freezer until medical science catches up with whatever ails him. Soon after David's acceptance into the family, his formerly-frozen step brother is cured and returns to find a slightly larger family unit. Sibling rivalry ensues, and David, who is seen as a threat to the safety of the home's humans, is unceremoniously dumped in the woods. He then embarks on a journey to find Pinocchio's Blue Fairy, whom he believes can turn him into a real boy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just don't even know where to start with this mess. I'll grant you that science has progressed to the point where they can create a completely life-like android and that they can even create one who can love. Fine, disbelief suspended. The rest of the movie's plot contrivances are so ridiculous that they destroy any belief or emotional investment in this particular future. Why is David, the pinnacle of human technological achievement, so incredibly stupid? Why does he not know when he is putting himself or others in danger, even though the first 5 minutes of the film establishes the fact that this behavior is common in androids? Why can David jump in a pool and come out just fine, but eating something means a total meltdown and a trip to the robo-emergency room? Why does David believe that someone from a fairy tale is real? Why does he think she can turn him into a real boy? How can he operate for thousands of years at the bottom of the ocean without any power source? WHY ARE THERE ALIENS IN THIS MOVIE? How can they magically regenerate a dead person from DNA at any point in their life, and with only their plot-convenient memories intact? Why do these reanimated humans cease to exist when they fall asleep? I'm sorry, that's just way too much disbelief to suspend. There are plenty of other non-plot-related problems with this movie, but I think these alone should be enough to keep you away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were, admittedly, a few things that I liked about AI. These are by no means redeeming, but I don't want to be completely negative here. Jude Law is really enjoyable to watch in his role as a robo-prostitute, and David's robo-teddybear Teddy is actually pretty funny as the voice of reason. I could identify with Teddy more than any other character, as we both seemed to know that the plot of this movie is complete bullshit. The film does raise some very interesting philosophical questions about the nature of love and companionship, as well as the role of technology in our lives. Unfortunately, these questions not only go unanswered, but are brutally sacrificed to the almighty god Plot Progression. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you think any of this sounds interesting, please just go watch Blade Runner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-4448994369188882915?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/4448994369188882915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=4448994369188882915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/4448994369188882915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/4448994369188882915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/08/artificial-intelligence-review.html' title='Artificial Intelligence Review'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SJTbQsYgDTI/AAAAAAAAAB4/ULSr_X3wA0c/s72-c/ai_poster.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-3151063688876399635</id><published>2008-07-27T16:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T17:13:58.522-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SotD - Same Old Drag</title><content type='html'>This song is super-appropriate because I'm going to see this band live and in person tonight! They're The Apples in Stereo, a light, energetic, and poppy indie group that's been around since the mid-90's. Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Apples in Stereo - Same Old Drag&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.fileden.com/files/2008/6/27/1978099/05-the_apples_in_stereo-same_old_drag.mp3"width="240" height="40" autostart="false" loop="FALSE"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/New-Magnetic-Wonder/dp/B000TGJ0CY/ref=pd_bbs_sr_2?ie=UTF8&amp;s=dmusic&amp;qid=1217196625&amp;sr=8-2"&gt;Buy this album&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-3151063688876399635?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/3151063688876399635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=3151063688876399635' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/3151063688876399635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/3151063688876399635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/07/sotd-same-old-drag.html' title='SotD - Same Old Drag'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-9003804403381626497</id><published>2008-07-25T19:29:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T19:44:24.262-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mad Men</title><content type='html'>I just finished the first 4 episodes of AMC's critically acclaimed (worshiped is probably a better word) series &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Mad Men&lt;/span&gt;. So far, it's got me pretty conflicted. As a 1960's period piece, they simply could not be doing a better job. The actors, sets, music, smoking, drinking, and chauvinism all come together in a way that makes me have to remind myself that this was filmed in 2007. My problem with it is that I hate nearly every single one of the characters, and the situations they get themselves into are just plain depressing. Watching scum-bag after scum-bag fumble through lose-lose scenarios is not my idea of a good time. I'm really hoping that in the next few episodes they start to reveal these people to be tragically flawed well-meaners as opposed to sociopaths.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-9003804403381626497?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/9003804403381626497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=9003804403381626497' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/9003804403381626497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/9003804403381626497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/07/mad-men.html' title='Mad Men'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-3085037245382840119</id><published>2008-07-24T21:30:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T00:34:21.857-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SotD - Lose Big</title><content type='html'>I am absolutely loving the Americana revival that's happening right now. I knew I wanted to a put an Eef Barzelay track on SotD, but it was pretty tough to actually pick just one. The entire album is great, spanning the range from swaggering self-confidence to tortured melancholy in just 10 tracks. Also, if you like this, check out Fleet Foxes, M. Ward, or Horse Feathers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eef Barzelay - Lose Big&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.fileden.com/files/2008/6/27/1978099/08%20Lose%20Big.mp3"width="240" height="40" autostart="false" loop="FALSE"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Lose-Big/dp/B00187OZQ4/ref=pd_bbs_sr_2/102-9044186-8593742?ie=UTF8&amp;s=dmusic&amp;qid=1216952509&amp;sr=8-2"&gt;Buy this album&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-3085037245382840119?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/3085037245382840119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=3085037245382840119' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/3085037245382840119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/3085037245382840119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/07/sotd-lose-big.html' title='SotD - Lose Big'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-6329465934086780484</id><published>2008-07-24T16:17:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T21:50:41.697-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Peculiar Travel Suggestions...</title><content type='html'>...are dancing lessons from God." -Kurt Vonnegut&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week, I was talking with Payton (of &lt;a href="http://paytonbartee.blogspot.com"&gt;Top Five Records&lt;/a&gt; fame) about the Dark Knight premier and what our plans for seeing it were. He casually suggested "We should have made a weekend out of it" which immediately set my brain in motion. Neither of us had any pressing engagements over the weekend, so the next day I jumped in my car and drove the 9 bleak hours to Houston. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being the incredible nerds that we are, Payton and I arrived at the midnight showing of The Dark Knight at about 9:30 (we were by no means the first people in line). I asked one of the employees how many people they were expecting to show up, and she told me that based on presale there would be at least 3000 people. As it got closer to midnight, none of us doubted that estimate. People wearing Joker-style facepaint, batman masks, or just a t-shirt emblazoned with the Bat-logo were swarming all over the enormous theater. I've been to a lot of midnight showings, but that buzzing energy we all felt while we were waiting for the lights to dim was something new and unique. Say what you will about the movie-going experience, complain about ticket or food prices, tell your stories about that one time with that one kid who wouldn't shut up, but I honestly believe that that experience is one of the greatest that our culture has to offer. Sitting in a dark room with six or seven hundred strangers and watching something you've all waited years for is simply incredible. You might think I'm being a bit melodramatic here, but I will truly miss this shared experience if and when the living room is the sole domain of film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless of whether it was a cultural touchstone or just another night at the movies, seeing The Dark Knight was a great way to kick off a fun and relaxing weekend with Payton and his friends. After a boring 2 months in searcy and a stressful 2 weeks with family, it was great to just go with the flow and hang out with some people my own age. I also really enjoyed Houston itself. The city just seems...inviting. Besides, who could complain about a city that has an amazing Mexican restaurant on every corner?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See? Doesn't it look inviting?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SIk_GUZdp7I/AAAAAAAAABo/y2ebuBZiy5s/s1600-h/DSC_0027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SIk_GUZdp7I/AAAAAAAAABo/y2ebuBZiy5s/s400/DSC_0027.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226778220327446450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is NOT the theater where we saw Batman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SIk_FwYck1I/AAAAAAAAABg/cFVa73HeUJI/s1600-h/DSC_0070.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SIk_FwYck1I/AAAAAAAAABg/cFVa73HeUJI/s400/DSC_0070.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226778210659504978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The highway was closed to clear a wreck, so I took a detour. Cue the banjo music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SIk_Gp3LCeI/AAAAAAAAABw/FISxHIJ0Aok/s1600-h/DSC_0087.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SIk_Gp3LCeI/AAAAAAAAABw/FISxHIJ0Aok/s400/DSC_0087.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226778226089200098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-6329465934086780484?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/6329465934086780484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=6329465934086780484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/6329465934086780484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/6329465934086780484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/07/peculiar-travel-suggestions.html' title='&quot;Peculiar Travel Suggestions...'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SIk_GUZdp7I/AAAAAAAAABo/y2ebuBZiy5s/s72-c/DSC_0027.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-6771686593455298679</id><published>2008-07-15T21:00:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T21:54:48.022-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fourth of July, etc</title><content type='html'>Hello again! It feels like so long since we've talked! I spent the last two weeks traveling, visiting various relatives in Texas and Oklahoma, and was without internet access for a lot of that time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I flew to scenic Lubbock, Texas, home of Buddy Holly, to stay with my immediate family for a few days. The four of us then drove to bustling Shawnee, Oklahoma, home of Brad Pitt, to visit my grandparents. My dad's dad loves to make a huge deal out of The Fourth, inviting lots of aunts, uncles, and cousins over, then spending enough money on fireworks to make them all very nervous. After staying there a couple days, we were off yet again, this time to booming Tulsa, Oklahoma, home of nothing, to spend time with yet another set of aunts/uncles/cousins. I didn't take any pictures here, since my young cousin kept us so busy with swimming, volleyball, tennis, ping-pong, laser-tag, board games, and even more fireworks that I didn't have time to pick it up. Then it was back to Lubbock for 4 more days of non-stop excitement before finally flying back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I generally don't enjoy going home for visits. I dread school breaks, when they kick us all out of the dorms and I have to go back to Lubbock for a week or a month. I've never actually lived in Lubbock (my family moved there after I came to school), so the number of people I know there can be counted on one hand. That said, I actually had a pretty good time these past two weeks. Maybe you can chalk that up to the fact that I wasn't stuck in one place the entire time, but I actually enjoyed most of the trip. I didn't really feel that need to isolate myself from the people around me after spending too much time being social. That introverted tug was still there, sure, but it wasn't quite so debilitating this time around. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a few pictures I took while I was away, click for the giant version. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lubbock: The Giant Side of Texas (they really call it that)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SH1hX1ugmFI/AAAAAAAAAAo/8AxGmjdipNQ/s1600-h/DSC_0550.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SH1hX1ugmFI/AAAAAAAAAAo/8AxGmjdipNQ/s400/DSC_0550.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223438205006682194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SH1iUSt_XqI/AAAAAAAAABQ/yLiDei9B3ek/s1600-h/DSC_0447.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SH1iUSt_XqI/AAAAAAAAABQ/yLiDei9B3ek/s400/DSC_0447.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223439243581284002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SH1hYC1HmAI/AAAAAAAAAAw/YciNqxW5WBk/s1600-h/DSC_0449.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SH1hYC1HmAI/AAAAAAAAAAw/YciNqxW5WBk/s400/DSC_0449.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223438208524064770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SH1hYSEwX-I/AAAAAAAAAA4/DHM_FWoe5SM/s1600-h/DSC_0452.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SH1hYSEwX-I/AAAAAAAAAA4/DHM_FWoe5SM/s400/DSC_0452.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223438212616183778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SH1hY1E27rI/AAAAAAAAABA/0h6A49uXVuw/s1600-h/DSC_0488.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SH1hY1E27rI/AAAAAAAAABA/0h6A49uXVuw/s400/DSC_0488.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223438222011854514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SH1hZV-KKhI/AAAAAAAAABI/Dhy7ey2y_gA/s1600-h/DSC_0524.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SH1hZV-KKhI/AAAAAAAAABI/Dhy7ey2y_gA/s400/DSC_0524.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223438230842124818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-6771686593455298679?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/6771686593455298679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=6771686593455298679' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/6771686593455298679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/6771686593455298679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/07/fourth-of-july-etc.html' title='Fourth of July, etc'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SH1hX1ugmFI/AAAAAAAAAAo/8AxGmjdipNQ/s72-c/DSC_0550.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-240455328058007861</id><published>2008-06-29T04:34:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T04:46:17.344-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SotD - Get Your Head Around It</title><content type='html'>I'd never heard of Headlights until I saw them open for Mates of State, and I was completely blown away. This is the first track off their newest album "Some Racing, Some Stopping" and I strongly recommend the rest of it. A bit of their on-stage energy is lost in the studio, but that's a fairly common complaint for any band. The best comparison I can make with them is that they sound like a more lively Rilo Kiley.Headlights - Get Your Head Around It&lt;embed src="http://www.fileden.com/files/2008/6/27/1978099/01-headlights-get_your_head_around_it.mp3"width="240" height="40" autostart="false" loop="FALSE"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Some-Racing-Stopping/dp/B0013IEF54/ref=pd_bbs_sr_3?ie=UTF8&amp;s=dmusic&amp;qid=1214731795&amp;sr=8-3"&gt;Buy this album&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-240455328058007861?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/240455328058007861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=240455328058007861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/240455328058007861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/240455328058007861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/06/sotd-get-your-head-around-it.html' title='SotD - Get Your Head Around It'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-3596222199495441718</id><published>2008-06-28T19:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T20:28:48.963-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Stay a while, and listen!"</title><content type='html'>Diablo II is a game that consumed nearly my entire high school years. I played so much that at one point, if I saw something drop to the ground in real-life, my finger would twitch, trying to find the key that would show the name of the dropped item. So yeah, it was pretty bad. The sequel, appropriately named "Diablo III" was announced today, and it looks to have improved on the original formula in every way. If you feel like watching someone play it for 20 minutes, &lt;i&gt;do I have a link for you!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.shackvideo.com/?id=12414"&gt;Diablo III gameplay, courtesy of Shack News&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-3596222199495441718?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/3596222199495441718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=3596222199495441718' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/3596222199495441718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/3596222199495441718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/06/stay-while-and-listen.html' title='&quot;Stay a while, and listen!&quot;'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-6660524119330735889</id><published>2008-06-27T16:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T16:11:32.838-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SotD - Daylight</title><content type='html'>Today's song is from the current king of independent hip-hop: Aesop Rock. His lyrics are simply on a different tier than everyone else's in the genre. They are also NSFW, so listen at your own risk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aesop Rock - Daylight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.fileden.com/files/2008/6/27/1978099/02%20Daylight.m4a"width="240" height="40" autostart="false" loop="FALSE"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Labor-Days-Explicit/dp/B000V8MRHK/ref=dmusic_cd_album?ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1214600967&amp;sr=8-3"&gt;Buy this album&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-6660524119330735889?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/6660524119330735889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=6660524119330735889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/6660524119330735889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/6660524119330735889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/06/sotd-daylight.html' title='SotD - Daylight'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-1515195185989862304</id><published>2008-06-27T16:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T16:04:30.728-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In Local News...</title><content type='html'>I haven't been able to summon up a real post, so I thought I'd just do a brief update of personally important happenings over the last couple weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Barack Obama is the presumptive nominee for the democratic party's candidate for president. This is great news for a number of reasons that I won't get into right now, but suffice it to say that I'm very excited. Also, Blogger considers both 'Barack' and 'Obama' spelling errors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Environmental Science is one of those classes where the material is really interesting, but it's taught in such a dry and lifeless way that makes you want to be anywhere else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I rented Rainbow Six Vegas 2 for my PS3, which was a lot of fun until I tried to play online. The community of players for this game have become so entrenched and perfected their tactics to such an extent that it is almost impossible to get into at this point. I don't know what happened to me, I used to be good at shooters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I put in some applications for gainful employment around town, but so far I haven't gotten any calls back. This means that I don't really know what to do to fill up my days. So far, the solution has been watching movies and playing video games as if it generated money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Going to church with Zach and Beth at Fellowship Little Rock has been a great experience for me. There haven't been very many times in my life that I actually enjoyed or looked forward to waking up on a Sunday morning, and I'm very encouraged by the knowledge that that is possible. If gas were free I'd be there every week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Next week, I'm flying back home to Texas, spending a few days with my family, then driving with them to Oklahoma to visit the extended family. This is the first time in a while that I've genuinely wanted to go home. I'm looking forward to spending time with my parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. It's a weird feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I'm a pretty decent writer, I think, at least when compared with most people my age. I mean, people have told me as much. But I'm reading &lt;i&gt;Cat's Cradle&lt;/i&gt; by Kurt Vonnegut right now, and every time I sit down with it I think "Wow. I will never in a million years write like this man." I'll try to post a full review when I finish it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-1515195185989862304?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/1515195185989862304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=1515195185989862304' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/1515195185989862304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/1515195185989862304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/06/in-local-news_27.html' title='In Local News...'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-6168495344024103957</id><published>2008-06-26T18:06:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T04:24:36.983-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Song of the Day - The Re-arranger</title><content type='html'>There's no way to make this sound like I'm not a music snob, so I'm not going to try. Look, let's be honest: you listen to some pretty crappy music. Just admit it. I used to live in that darkness myself, and I'm here to tell you that there is hope! In the past, to help facilitate your musical education, I've tried to recommend bands that I love to you. I understand, though, that it's hard to just go download random songs by a band you've never heard of just because I think you should listen to them. So to make this whole process easier on both of us, I've decided to start a Song of the Day series here on Transmissions. There's not going to be a new song every day, but I'll try to update it often. My plan at the moment is to post the song here in the main blog (for archival purposes), but you'll also be able to play it with the little player thing on the right. So, without further ado, here's the first of many fine tunes, brought to you by my sense of musical elitism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mates of State - The Re-arranger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.fileden.com/files/2008/6/27/1978099/04%20The%20Re-Arranger.mp3"width="240" height="40" autostart="false" loop="FALSE"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Re-arrange-Us/dp/B0019J0P7O/ref=dmusic_cd_album?ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1214522437&amp;sr=8-1"&gt;Buy this album&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-6168495344024103957?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/6168495344024103957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=6168495344024103957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/6168495344024103957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/6168495344024103957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/06/song-of-day-re-arranger.html' title='Song of the Day - The Re-arranger'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-4587670809829867935</id><published>2008-06-26T00:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T00:57:06.898-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thus Spake Miyamoto</title><content type='html'>When I was 3 years old, my parents forced me to make a life-altering decision. They took me to Wal-mart and presented me with two item, between which I had to choose. The first: a black Huffy bicycle, training wheels and all. The second: a Nintendo Entertainment System, complete with Zapper. If you anything about me, you know what decision I made. The fact that I'm writing a blog post right now and not doing something active and outdoorsy should give the rest of you a clue. However, this post isn't about how I'm a giant nerd, but rather role that video games have played in our society over the years. I've been playing games for almost 20 years now, and it has been very interesting to see how public perception of them has changed during that time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In its infancy, the videogaming industry and its efforts were relegated to the realm of arcades and hobby shops. These were by no means the "Good Old Days." Video games weren't ever persecuted in the way comic books or rock music were, but they were seen as simply a distraction for kids. A few of my friends growing up had an NES or a Genesis, but they were secluded in the back rooms of their homes, far away from the more adult forms of entertainment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward 20 years. April's release of Grand Theft Auto IV was the largest launch in &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;entertainment&lt;/span&gt; history, selling 6 million copies in the first week.  A Paramount Pictures representative was even quoted complaining that the game's release would hamper ticket sales for their enormous summer title &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Iron Man&lt;/span&gt;, which opened the same week. World of Warcraft now has over 10 million subscribers, each paying $15 a month to play it. The Nintendo Wii has been on the market for over a year, but good luck finding a store that can keep them in stock. It's become clear that video games are no longer exclusively for kids. Games with adult themes are being played by adults, while the Wii has usurped the throne of the board game in family game night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been great to watch my favorite pastime evolve from the realm of kid's toys into a respected medium. Video games aren't art or literature just yet, but we're getting there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-4587670809829867935?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/4587670809829867935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=4587670809829867935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/4587670809829867935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/4587670809829867935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/06/thus-spake-miyamoto.html' title='Thus Spake Miyamoto'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-4029799116968511983</id><published>2008-06-23T23:17:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-23T23:32:52.351-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Perception as it pertains to prediction</title><content type='html'>If hindsight is 20:20, what does that make foresight? Pretty foggy, in my experience. How does one decide that a certain course of action is the right one? To make any decision, you essentially have to take all the observable, objective information, and balance that against your emotions and gut feelings on the issue. This is very rarely a fair fight. Objectivity can hold its own in only a few types of discussions, while emotion tends to rule all other spheres. Why do we trust our emotions, something known and demonstrated to be fallible, over our intelligence and ability to reason? This imbalance is particularly flagrant when it comes to our interactions with the opposite sex. I don't mean this as an indictment of &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;you people&lt;/span&gt;; I'm just as bad as everyone else. I can't even tell you how many times I've had this conversation with myself:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Left Brain: "Listen, Right. She is rude, boring, and we don't even share any interests!"&lt;br /&gt;Right Brain: "But I loooooove her!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess which one wins? How in the world am I supposed to pick someone to spend my entire life with when my emotions are actively poisoning my decision-making process? I try my best to shut out that swooning, lovestruck side of my brain, but can I really trust myself? There have been times when I thought, honestly believed, that I was making an intelligent, informed decision, only to think the exact opposite thing a week later. I'd love to believe the things that old married couples say when questioned about this process, like "You just know!" Really? 50% of people in America "just knew" that were perfect for each other, but they got divorced anyway. That just doesn't instill a lot of confidence in the whole process. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe knowing that I can't trust myself is half the battle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-4029799116968511983?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/4029799116968511983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=4029799116968511983' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/4029799116968511983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/4029799116968511983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/06/perception-as-it-pertains-to-prediction.html' title='Perception as it pertains to prediction'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-4789600395983802200</id><published>2008-05-25T15:33:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T03:39:43.469-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My living room</title><content type='html'>Here's a picture of the incredible rasterbation that my roommate spent 3 days working on. I have the coolest living room in this apartment complex &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;by far&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SDnOrwCI8tI/AAAAAAAAAAg/zVZRPZRdiv8/s1600-h/DSC_0417.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SDnOrwCI8tI/AAAAAAAAAAg/zVZRPZRdiv8/s400/DSC_0417.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204418095426892498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-4789600395983802200?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/4789600395983802200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=4789600395983802200' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/4789600395983802200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/4789600395983802200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/05/insert-masturbation-joke-here.html' title='My living room'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/SDnOrwCI8tI/AAAAAAAAAAg/zVZRPZRdiv8/s72-c/DSC_0417.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-1360371483593924618</id><published>2008-05-25T14:42:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T03:16:18.649-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Like a Ro-woah-woah-llercoaster</title><content type='html'>The last couple weeks have definitely been filled with ups and downs, as my friends and I start new parts of our lives. A few of us are doing it together, but mostly we are going our separate ways. When I was a freshman, I knew that eventually I would have to say goodbye to all the friends I had made in my time at Harding. I guess I pictured a big post-graduation party where we spent one last night laughing and telling stories and etc etc. Fitting with the theme that this blog seems to have developed, expectation versus actuality, there wasn't any party. Some people I saw for the last time for who knows how long during finals. I got to spend two weeks with a few more of them over intercession, but no matter when I saw them last, it was uneventful. The closest I came to having an actual goodbye with someone♦ was Chris saying "Hey I guess this is last time I'll see you for a while." My response was something along the lines of "Yeah, I guess it is." We walked to our cars and that was it. After 4 years of classes and studying and killing time with this person, we simply slipped out of each other's lives. I honestly have a hard time getting my head around that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If those were the downs, the ups would be moving into this decrepit Searcy apartment with a couple of guys for the summer. I didn't really know how it would go, having never lived with either of them before. You know that feeling you get in the first few minutes of a movie, where you just know that you're going to love it? Or when you try to sing along with a song you've never heard before? I think I've found the "life changes" version of that music/movie feeling. Living with them has been incredibly easy and more fun than I've had in a very long time. After 8 semesters in the dorms, I've finally got an apartment, and with 2 great guys to boot. I don't have much to complain about lately.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-1360371483593924618?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/1360371483593924618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=1360371483593924618' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/1360371483593924618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/1360371483593924618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/05/like-ro-woah-woah-llercoaster.html' title='Like a Ro-woah-woah-llercoaster'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-2512472375194389462</id><published>2008-05-22T13:35:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T20:23:46.627-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I always get a lot done when I have homework due. The thought of actually doing the work I'm paying good money to do makes even cleaning look like a fun activity. I'm sitting in my favorite coffee shop trying to talk myself into studying for a test. I'm writing this post because I'm doing a terrible job of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's weird to see how people change when you haven't seen them in a while. Will they be fatter? In better shape? Depressed? Engaged? Married? Maybe I'm just instinctively opposed to change, but I'm never happy to see these differences between memory and reality. If things are bad for them, I feel bad. If things are good, I'm jealous. I'm not sure what this says about me. Why can't I just be happy for people? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has come to my attention recently that I'm not a particularly &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;nice&lt;/span&gt; person. My roommate said something to me, and my first thought was "I know he's joking, but that's kind of a mean thing to say." My second thought was "Oh, wait, he was quoting me." That was a little disconcerting. I seriously have to make an effort to avoid saying mean or sarcastic things or they just come spilling out. This character trait (flaw?) has caused me a lot of trouble in romantic relationships, since I am attracted to girls who, as Karyn would say, "feel their feelings very deeply." That type of girl will never respond well to sarcasm. It's obviously something I need to work on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-2512472375194389462?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/2512472375194389462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=2512472375194389462' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/2512472375194389462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/2512472375194389462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-always-get-lot-done-when-i-have.html' title=''/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-6919879920335633895</id><published>2008-05-19T10:30:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T03:18:25.858-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Current Events</title><content type='html'>Statistics is a class that seemed really interesting on the surface, but once you start to dig into it, you find out that it's actually incredibly boring. The &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;concept&lt;/span&gt; of exploring random events or population characteristics is intriguing, but the reality is basically an endless parade of tables, charts, and formulas. Having to watch this parade for four hours every day for two weeks got old after the first class period. I'm just glad that I don't have to live in the wonderful world of statistics for an entire semester. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bringing a laptop to class is probably going to have a negative impact on my grade, but I consider it a fair trade for keeping my sanity. Beating Zuma (something I've been working on for about 5 month's worth of boring classes) has become an almost fanatical endeavor. Every time I see those balls slurp into the hole in the middle of the board I want to throw my laptop across the room. When you play a game this much, you start to notice all the little problems with it. I can't say for sure, but I think the game might be cheating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the weekend, I went to a house party with 2 guys I barely know to hang out with a bunch of people I didn't know at all. I'm not going to tell the whole story, because it's not very flattering. This is my blog and I'll tell you what I want to tell you, so quit complaining. I don't know how much you know about me, fearless reader, but I'm not exactly what you (or anyone) would call a "partier." I don't "party" or attend "parties." At best, I'm inexperienced, but I had a good time. Nothing bad happened, but it was certainly out of character for me. This and other events have gotten me thinking about how your childhood perceptions of your future self rarely match up with the reality. I mean, I guess this is true for everyone and not just me. I hope it is. If my 12-year-old self could meet my current 22-year-old self, (ignoring any time-travel paradoxes that would certainly arise) what would he think? I can't imagine that he would be pleased, but I don't think that that's necessarily a bad thing. Obviously, we all change as we grow up and that means a change in our morals and values. Is my 12-year-old set of values more "right" than my 22-year-old set due to some sort of childhood purity? Or could it be the other way around, thanks to a measure of adulthood insight? I have no idea what the answer to that is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-6919879920335633895?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/6919879920335633895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=6919879920335633895' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/6919879920335633895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/6919879920335633895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/05/current-events.html' title='Current Events'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-839626684456497150</id><published>2008-05-11T23:04:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T03:27:52.454-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Last published Jan 30, 2008</title><content type='html'>It's been nearly 5 months since I've posted here. My absence is mostly due to the fact that I've been so busy with school that it was completely draining me of all my creative energies, of which I have very little to begin with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm back now because I need someone to know what's going on, and I don't feel like I have anyone I could just call up and rant to. My friends know bits and pieces of this, but no one person has the whole story. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was doing really well. Honestly, I was. I didn't think about Karyn all that much, and when I did it was in the context of resurrecting some sort of friendship from the smoldering wreckage of our relationship. To illustrate how far I've fallen, while I was writing that last sentence, I looked to see if she was online. Earlier, I checked her blog, which I hadn't done in &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;months&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why the change? What happened that put her back in my mind? I want to tell this story fully and truthfully, so here it is. She sent me a text message a couple weeks ago saying that she wanted to see me before she left town, presumably forever. This, obviously, set my mind in motion. That's what I do. I think about things until I have my mind made up about what every subtlety and detail means, then all I have to do is wait to be proven horribly wrong. Anyway, I tried to set up a couple meetings, but she apparently wanted to do it on her terms. I finally saw her when she came to my senior showcase. We talked for a few minutes, and agreed to hang out later that night. We went to Sonic after my showcase was over and talked for an hour or so. She cried a lot. She talked a lot about not realizing what breaking up with me meant until she was actually leaving. She wondered if she had made the right decision. I told her all I could think to tell her, which was effectively "You need to leave and figure out what you want."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She called me the next day, crying. At this point, I don't know what to think. Last I heard, she was perfectly happy with Owen and wanted to marry him and have lots of babies. She still insisted that she was very happy with him and please don't get the wrong idea. How could I &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;not &lt;/span&gt;be getting the wrong idea? She was calling her ex-boyfriend, crying, talking about the decisions she made and how they upset her. What exactly am I supposed to be thinking at this point?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was pretty much the end of our communication. I tried to return a shirt of hers that I had found, and she told me to put it in her box in her office, which I thought was a pretty lame move. "I don't want to see you, but I want what you have for me." I would love to think that she didn't want to see me because she was afraid she would start crying again, but I think it was mostly that she didn't want me to continue thinking that she might want to get the band back together. That was the last time we talked, and I think it's probably going to be for a while. She'll be spending most of her time with Owen now, and I can't imagine she'll have much use for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I cannot for the life of me figure out is why I'm still &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;this &lt;/span&gt;affected by her. I was in love with her, yeah, but we broke up like 6 months ago. It wasn't like she was a perfect girlfriend, either. The problem is this: when things were good, they were fantastic. We were crazy about each other. We understood each other, even if we didn't agree. There were weeks and months in that relationship that I would live in forever. If Doc Brown showed up in the Delorean, I would set those dials for March 2007 and get up to 88 mph as fast as possible. But why-oh-why are those good times able to control me like this? When she calls me crying, why doesn't my mind jump to the scene where she's telling me she doesn't love me in the middle of her living room? Why don't I immediately think of her weeping at the thought of never talking to Owen again. Why is it that the first thing I think about is driving around Oahu with the windows down?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, the only thing that's been able to break the spell is if I have some sliver of hope of dating someone new. I've been out with a few different girls this semester, all with disastrous results. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that this whole mess with Karyn has had a much more pronounced impact on me because of this unrivaled dry-spell I'm currently experiencing. I have to believe that she wouldn't have gotten to me if just one of those fetal relationships had gone somewhere (anywhere). Surely, that's the reason. I can't possibly be that weak when it comes to her, can I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even after everything we've put each other through, these are the things I think about. It's what I'll continue to think about until the next girl shows the slightest bit of interest in me. I'll write another "karyn" post when I crawl out of the ruins of my "next-girl" hopes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-839626684456497150?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/839626684456497150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=839626684456497150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/839626684456497150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/839626684456497150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/05/last-published-jan-30-2008.html' title='Last published Jan 30, 2008'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-4316034772809883496</id><published>2008-01-30T02:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T02:46:09.402-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Relapse</title><content type='html'>I was doing so &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;well&lt;/span&gt;, you know? I hadn't thought about her (at length) in at least like 2 days, I wasn't compulsively checking her blog anymore, I was talking with other girls. But here I am, 2:30 in the morning, 4.5 hours until my alarm goes off, awake. It's like a damned zombie movie. I'm relaxing in my house, satisfied with the defenses I've built up. Then out of nowhere, for no reason and with no warning, she's kicking through the 2x4's I nailed to the door-frame. I know it will all be over in the morning, and I just have to get through the night. The nostalgia, like an undead mob, will be shot through the brain or rounded up and burned in piles, and I'll go back to regular life only slightly shaken. Roll credits. The only thing I have to worry about now is when the sequel hits. Fortunately, just like the "Of The Dead" series, the sequels are getting further and further apart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God she isn't on AIM right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-4316034772809883496?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/4316034772809883496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=4316034772809883496' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/4316034772809883496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/4316034772809883496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/01/relapse.html' title='Relapse'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-7245637538654677354</id><published>2008-01-20T14:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T02:52:27.810-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>2007 wasn't too bad, as far as years go. Here are some things that I liked, and a few things I didn't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Top 10 Movies of 2007:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://mcqesq.files.wordpress.com/2007/10/gone_baby_gone_poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://mcqesq.files.wordpress.com/2007/10/gone_baby_gone_poster.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;First-time director Ben Affleck does a surprisingly good job telling the story of a missing girl from South Boston and the people trying to find her. He, along with co-screenwriter Aaron Stockard, handles the issues of race and class that come up with an amount of fairness and tact that is seldom seen in this kind of movie. The movie doesn't pull any punches with its moral dilemmas, either. Ben's little bro Casey, however, delivers the intense and powerful performance that a transforms a good film into a great one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#9&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51ij-8GwhCL.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51ij-8GwhCL.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Lives of Others&lt;/span&gt; presents a story that would be great even without the spectacular acting and haunting visuals. The characters give away so much of their thoughts and feelings through their actions and facial expressions that they never have to spell it out for the audience (which is good, since the subtitles are pretty terrible). I've probably spent more time thinking about this movie in the days and weeks after seeing it than any other movie this year (with the possible exception of my #1). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#8&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.awardsdaily.com/IM_NOT_THERE.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.awardsdaily.com/IM_NOT_THERE.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I really can't recommend this sorta-kinda biopic to anyone who doesn't know who Robert Zimmerman is, but people who love Dylan's music and are familiar with his life story will find a lot to love here. Instead of presenting a beginning-to-end narrative, director Todd Haynes tells us about Bob through a series of vignettes, each with a different actor (or actress) portraying a different aspect of the man (or myth). Haynes handles it with such unique style that the film as a whole is greater than the sum of its parts, instead of becoming &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;just&lt;/span&gt; a series of vignettes (see: Coffee and Cigarettes). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#7&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.ucillian.com/photos/albums/Sunshine/Promos/0003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.ucillian.com/photos/albums/Sunshine/Promos/0003.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm totally gay for good sci-fi, so this pick wasn't a tough one. Danny Boyle's foray into the genre features a great ensemble cast of "that guy"'s and brilliant camera work (virtually the only time the camera leaves the ship is when a character does) that thoroughly express the claustrophobia, dementia and animosity that would develop on the kind of isolated mission the Icarus II is sent on. The ending is one of those "love it or hate it" sort of things, but I thought that it fit perfectly with the direction the body of the film was going. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#6&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.michaelcera.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/05/superbad_poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.michaelcera.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/05/superbad_poster.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Best comedy/adventure/coming of age/tale of friendship set in high school this year. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Superbad&lt;/span&gt; is constantly hilarious, but it's also a great story about friendship and transition. Jonah Hill is good as an exaggerated version of himself, but Michael Cera really outshines every one else in the cast. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.firstshowing.net/img/juno-poster2-big.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.firstshowing.net/img/juno-poster2-big.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Juno&lt;/span&gt; was not at all what I was expecting, and it took me until the second viewing to really appreciate it. I was expecting an Apatow knock-off with a healthy dose of indie-chic. What I got was a warm, honest, (mostly) serious, and touching movie about growing up and figuring yourself out. I also got an incredible soundtrack. The first time I saw &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Juno&lt;/span&gt;, I was a bit off-put by the titular (lol, titular) character's manner of speech. The argument could be made that the script was overwrought and tried too hard to be cool, but I think that it was a deliberate effort on Diablo Cody's part to show Juno's progression from pretentious hipster to young adult. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.collider.com/uploads/imageGallery/Atonement/atonement_movie_poster_onesheet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.collider.com/uploads/imageGallery/Atonement/atonement_movie_poster_onesheet.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You can see my full review for this movie just one post down, so I'll be brief. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Atonement&lt;/span&gt; deserves this spot for its incredible story and how expertly it's told to us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.slashfilm.com/wp/wp-content/images/kingofkongposter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.slashfilm.com/wp/wp-content/images/kingofkongposter.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm a sucker for a good documentary, but when the subject matter involves classic gaming, I am powerless in its grasp. Fortunately for the rest of the movie-watching public, the film effortlessly transcends the backdrop of video games and depicts one of the greatest rivalries in movie history. Billy Mitchell is the best villain of year; you will hate him far more than Bardem's Chigurh. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The King of Kong&lt;/span&gt; is a personal, emotional movie. My only complaint is that I wanted to learned more about the peripheral people involved with this competition, such as head referee Walter Day. I know this wasn't on a lot of peoples' radar, but just forget that it's about Donkey Kong and check it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://z.about.com/d/movies/1/0/g/D/P/knockedupposter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://z.about.com/d/movies/1/0/g/D/P/knockedupposter.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Judd Apatow, moreso than any other writer or director working today, knows how men talk to each other. He has also surrounded himself with a stable of incredible actors  who can execute his ideas perfectly. Because of this dedication to realism in his characters, his movies make an impression on me that goes beyond the subject matter. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Knocked Up&lt;/span&gt; came at a time that made it very relevant to me. Not so much the actual pregnancy part, but the themes of life after college, male friendship, dating, marriage, having kids, growing up, and responsibility that the movie explores are all things that are on the minds of guys my age. Apatow handles these subjects with a reverence and humor that I haven't seen since, well, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The 40 Year-Old Virgin&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://weblogs.variety.com/photos/uncategorized/2007/09/17/securedownload.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://weblogs.variety.com/photos/uncategorized/2007/09/17/securedownload.jpeg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Big surprise, right? I can't help but jump on the great big bandwagon the Coen Bros are driving through everyone's year end list. This film is about as perfect as films get. The setting, tone, acting, humor, (lack of) music, script, and cinematography all come together to produce my favorite movie-going experience this year. Go see it a second time and see if Jones' opening monologue doesn't shake you up a bit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Honorable Mentions:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Rescue Dawn&lt;br /&gt;Zodiac&lt;br /&gt;Black Snake Moan&lt;br /&gt;Bourne Ultimatum&lt;br /&gt;Charlie Wilson's War&lt;br /&gt;Once&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Biggest Disappointments:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Ratatouille &lt;/span&gt;- I just plain didn't care. None of the characters stood out to me, and the plot was pure boilerplate kiddie movie. Sorry Brad...we'll always have &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Iron Giant&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;American Gangster&lt;/span&gt; - I wanted to love this one a little too much, I think. Scott, Denzel, and Crowe do their best to tell us this "true" story, but they just didn't give me anything to sink my teeth into. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hot Fuzz&lt;/span&gt; - I absolutely loved &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Shaun of the Dead&lt;/span&gt;, so I had high hopes for &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Hot Fuzz&lt;/span&gt;. Sadly, most of the jokes were big misses for me, and the plot didn't interest me in the least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Spiderman 3&lt;/span&gt; - Dear Sam Raimi, what the hell? I was on board as soon as I saw the teaser image with the black symbiote suit, but you really blew it. How do you screw up VENOM? Why is Kirsten Dunst allowed to come within 100 yards of the set? You broke my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Am Legend&lt;/span&gt; - It wasn't bad, but it wasn't great either. The first half of movie is amazing; I loved seeing Smith's day to day life in post-apoc NYC. After that, it kinda fell apart for me. Why were the "dark seekers" totally CG, and bad CG at that? Those guys would have been waaay creepier if they had used good, old-fashioned make-up and prosthetics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Lookout&lt;/span&gt; - I was hoping for &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Brick &lt;/span&gt;meets &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Snatch&lt;/span&gt;. Not even close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Pile of Shame (movies that might have made the top 10 if I had seen them):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;There Will Be Blood&lt;br /&gt;Lars and the Real Girl&lt;br /&gt;Into the Wild&lt;br /&gt;The Diving Bell and the Butterfly&lt;br /&gt;The Darjeeling Limited&lt;br /&gt;Michael Clayton&lt;br /&gt;The Savages&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Best Music of 2007 (in no particular order):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Against Me! - New Wave&lt;br /&gt;Arcade Fire - Neon Bible&lt;br /&gt;The National - Boxer&lt;br /&gt;Feist - The Reminder&lt;br /&gt;Modest Mouse - We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank&lt;br /&gt;Peter, Bjorn and John - Writer's Block&lt;br /&gt;Band of Horses - Cease to Begin&lt;br /&gt;Aesop Rock - None Shall Pass&lt;br /&gt;Daft Punk - Alive 2007&lt;br /&gt;Rogue Wave - Asleep at Heaven's Gate&lt;br /&gt;Working for a Nuclear Free City - Businessmen and Ghosts&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-7245637538654677354?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/7245637538654677354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=7245637538654677354' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/7245637538654677354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/7245637538654677354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/01/2007-wasnt-too-bad-as-far-as-years-go.html' title=''/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-1932748641832183037</id><published>2008-01-19T19:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T22:44:02.598-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Atonement Review</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.amazon.com/images/G/01/dvd/focus/atonement/atonement_poster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://images.amazon.com/images/G/01/dvd/focus/atonement/atonement_poster.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Atonement&lt;/span&gt; (2007)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Directed by: Joe Wright&lt;br /&gt;Starring: James McAvoy, Keira Knightly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe Wright's newest film begins with the simple and recognizable sound of a typewriter's carriage sliding into position, ready to start the story. For this film, that sound, followed by the sound of the letters A-T-O-N-E-M-E-N-T being punched, is synonymous with an orchestra tuning up. It was at this point that the movie grabbed and held my attention for the entire 130 minute duration, thanks largely to the extraordinary sound and music. Every effect is deliberate, every piece of music is meticulously placed. Even the distinction between "sound" and "score" is repeatedly destroyed as one deftly transforms into the other. As good as it is, however, the sound design never upstages the fantastic story, direction, acting, cinematography, or set design. Every scene and every movement within it is important and calculated. The acting, with one distracting exception, is absolutely spot-on. Knightly's performance seems forced and over-acted at times. She is made to look like an amateur in the presence of such strong performances from every other single person in the cast. My only other quibble is that we aren't allowed to spend nearly enough time with the supporting characters. Unlike writers like Kevin Smith or Judd Apatow, who fall in love with their characters then overexpose them throughout the film, Wright went too far the other way and left me wanting to know more about everyone. I guess that's what the book is for, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.collider.com/uploads/imageGallery/Atonement/atonement_movie_image_james_mcavoy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://www.collider.com/uploads/imageGallery/Atonement/atonement_movie_image_james_mcavoy.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite an encouragingly strong field of competition in 2007, Atonement easily claims a place for itself in my Top 5.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-1932748641832183037?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/1932748641832183037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=1932748641832183037' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/1932748641832183037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/1932748641832183037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/01/atonement-review.html' title='Atonement Review'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-2471041265830748845</id><published>2008-01-15T17:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T17:43:46.005-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Review of Rock Band for Xbox 360</title><content type='html'>CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK CLAK&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-2471041265830748845?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/2471041265830748845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=2471041265830748845' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/2471041265830748845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/2471041265830748845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/01/review-of-rock-band-for-xbox-360.html' title='Review of Rock Band for Xbox 360'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-8554331527752713906</id><published>2008-01-09T18:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T18:44:16.052-06:00</updated><title type='text'>You Have 37 New Zombies Invitations</title><content type='html'>I like the new facebook features such as Zombie and Movie Quiz, because it helps me keep track of which of my friends are morons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-8554331527752713906?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/8554331527752713906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=8554331527752713906' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/8554331527752713906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/8554331527752713906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/01/you-have-37-new-zombies-invitations.html' title='You Have 37 New Zombies Invitations'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-5008253330413324599</id><published>2008-01-04T03:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T04:39:06.737-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Ol' Movie Ho-Down!</title><content type='html'>I don't have very many things going on in my life right now ("now" being the holidays), so I've been watching a whooole lot of movies. I don't have the motivation to write formal reviews for them, but I wanted to share my general impressions with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Atonement&lt;/span&gt; (2007) - Stunning in every way. Easily slides into my Top 5 of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm Not There&lt;/span&gt; (2007) - A refreshingly original take on the biopic genre, but anyone unfamiliar with the Dylan mythos may feel very left out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Charlie Wilson's War&lt;/span&gt; (2007) - A great story and script (supported by some of the year's best acting) are brought down (slightly) by mediocre film-making.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Eastern Promises&lt;/span&gt; (2007) - Cronenberg's very disappointing follow-up to A History of Violence. There really aren't many nice things to say about this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sweeney Todd&lt;/span&gt; (2007) - Finally! A musical with Tarantino-esque violence! Worth a rental, if you're into one or both of those, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;3:10 to Yuma&lt;/span&gt; (2007) - A great western, but one that sadly does not transcend the genre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Once &lt;/span&gt;(2007) - Fantastic music, very unique direction / cinematography, and a disappointing ending. Note that my opinion of the ending may change on repeat viewings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Heartbreak Kid&lt;/span&gt; (2007) - Anyone who's seen the trailer could write an accurate and detailed review of this movie. "Formulaic" is not nearly a strong enough word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Eagle Vs. Shark&lt;/span&gt; (2007) - I imagine the pitch for this indie-scene darling went something like: "It's Napoleon Dynamite, all growed up!" &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Avoid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hot Rod &lt;/span&gt;(2007) - Keep your expectations low, and you'll have a good time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Rescue Dawn&lt;/span&gt; (2007) - There's a lot to love here, but some wonky directorial and editing decisions don't make it easy. This film is in desperate need of a director's cut or re-edit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Futurama: Bender's Big Score&lt;/span&gt; (2007) - Yeah, yeah, it's straight-to-DVD, but GOSH DARNIT FUTURAMA IS BACK. A few stale jokes litter an otherwise triumphant return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Primer &lt;/span&gt;(2004) - The absurdly good story of two friends who accidentally invent a time machine. This is my favorite sci-fi flick in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;years&lt;/span&gt;, and it's beautifully shot, just to rub it in. Did I mention it was made by 4 guys for $7000?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Caddyshack &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;(1980) - Like most comedies of its era, the appeal is completely lost on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Network &lt;/span&gt;(1976) - A fascinating and jarring (not to mention "over-the-top") study of the corruptive power of the media. Could stand to lose a sub-plot or two, but still great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post full reviews of a couple of these and some ones that didn't make it on here...eventually.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-5008253330413324599?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/5008253330413324599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=5008253330413324599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/5008253330413324599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/5008253330413324599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2008/01/big-ol-movie-ho-down.html' title='Big Ol&apos; Movie Ho-Down!'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-458713528793347782</id><published>2007-12-29T22:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T23:12:51.270-06:00</updated><title type='text'>holiday boredom</title><content type='html'>I've haven't updated in a while. I've started a couple of entries, but I seem to always get interrupted or bored with what I'm writing. I'm currently at home for a month-long break from school, and I'm fighting holiday depression with lots of movies and sleep. Finding the motivation to get dressed and actually do something outside the house is incredibly difficult when you have no one to do it &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;with&lt;/span&gt;. Anyone who knows me would tell you that I'm a pretty private person, but that is not to say that I don't need to be socialized every once in a while. I'm content to spend my nights at home, but, ideally, I would have someone around to be my partner in couchpotatoism. All this time to myself with no school or job to cloud my mind has graciously allowed me plenty of time to reflect on my past failures regarding the opposite sex. I honestly try not to dwell on these things, but &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; try ending a (relatively) serious relationship then spending a month away from your circle of friends. See how that works out for you. My mind has been filled with &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;what-if's &lt;/span&gt;and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I-should-have-'s.&lt;/span&gt; So I'm trying to be optimistic, and the truth of the matter is that I am genuinely very hopeful for the future. In less than a year, I'll graduate and hopefully land a well-paying job. I'll have my very own apartment. I'll have no one to answer to. No curfew, no ridiculous rules, no homework, no political or religious pressure, no one paying my bills for me. I can't even express how appealing that is. I've been thinking about  one-bedroom apartments, used cars, HDTV's, surround sound systems, and dating girls who have never even heard of [my university]. I'll be able to live &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;my own life&lt;/span&gt;. It's these daydreams that are going to get me through my last 2 weeks at home and 2 semesters at school.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-458713528793347782?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/458713528793347782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=458713528793347782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/458713528793347782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/458713528793347782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2007/12/holiday-boredom.html' title='holiday boredom'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-4132774403052346053</id><published>2007-11-23T23:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T23:53:26.446-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Today I got more religious experience out of 1 song than months of church</title><content type='html'>O to grace how great a debtor&lt;br /&gt;Daily I’m constrained to be&lt;br /&gt;Let that grace now, like a fetter&lt;br /&gt;Bind my wandering heart to Thee&lt;br /&gt;Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it&lt;br /&gt;Prone to leave the God I love&lt;br /&gt;Here’s my heart, oh, take and seal it&lt;br /&gt;Seal it for Thy courts above&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-4132774403052346053?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/4132774403052346053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=4132774403052346053' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/4132774403052346053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/4132774403052346053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2007/11/today-i-got-more-religious-experience.html' title='Today I got more religious experience out of 1 song than months of church'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-3423445916448493343</id><published>2007-11-21T20:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-21T20:52:32.596-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Broken Flowers Review</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/R0TtDSCZlSI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nHTA2r6H8vI/s1600-h/broken-flowers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/R0TtDSCZlSI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nHTA2r6H8vI/s400/broken-flowers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135490115746501922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Broken Flowers (2005)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Directed by Jim Jarmusch&lt;br /&gt;Bill Murray&lt;br /&gt;Jeffrey Wright&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Georgia;"&gt;    Jim Jarmusch's 2005 film exposes the viewer to the life of Don Johnston, a stoic and lonely Don Juan played by Bill Murray. Don, due to the constant prodding of his neighbor Winston, sets out on a cross-country journey to find the author of a mysterious letter. This person claims to be the mother of &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Johnston&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;'s heretofore unknown son, but offers no clues as to her identity, except the fact that her son is 19 years old. Armed only with Winston's internet research on his girlfriends from that era, Don embarks, and we go with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Georgia;"&gt;    Unfortunately, Broken Flowers' narrative fails in that it&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;simply doesn't go anywhere. At the end of the film, &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Murray&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;'s character doesn't know anything about his son (or if he even exists), nor does he appear to have learned anything. There is no character transformation or development, no affirmation or condemnation of his lifestyle, no "a-ha" moment. Where the film succeeds, however, is in creating within the viewer an affinity for &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Johnston&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;. From the moment the letter finds him at the beginning of the movie to the final shot, the camera is always by his side. At first, this made for a claustrophobic and sometimes boring experience, but by the time the second act rolls around, I felt more like a sidekick than a voyuer. By the end of the movie, I felt that I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;knew &lt;/span&gt;Don Johnston. I knew who he was, how he felt, and why he made the decisions he made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Georgia;"&gt;    If Jarmusch intended this movie to be a biopic, then it was an enormous success. As narrative fiction, however, it falls a bit flat.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-3423445916448493343?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/3423445916448493343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=3423445916448493343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/3423445916448493343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/3423445916448493343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2007/11/broken-flowers-review.html' title='Broken Flowers Review'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_cBdISqNVCIE/R0TtDSCZlSI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nHTA2r6H8vI/s72-c/broken-flowers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-6102125486883231654</id><published>2007-11-16T22:59:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T23:00:12.948-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia is the best show on TV</title><content type='html'>Title says it all. I have never laughed harder at anything in my life. Please, please watch this show&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-6102125486883231654?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/6102125486883231654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=6102125486883231654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/6102125486883231654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/6102125486883231654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2007/11/its-always-sunny-in-philadelphia-is.html' title='It&apos;s Always Sunny in Philadelphia is the best show on TV'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-5101129598971777754</id><published>2007-11-16T14:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T21:30:23.096-06:00</updated><title type='text'>CryGear of BioFortress Duty 3: Shadow of Episode 2.....Part 2</title><content type='html'>This series of posts was never meant to be a series, but was originally envisioned as a simple listing of new games with a 1 or 2 sentence review accompanying each. Clearly, that didn't work out. So lets dive back into it, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;S.T.A.L.K.E.R.: Shadow of Chernobyl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; - &lt;/span&gt;Several years ago, first-person shooters were going in a very different direction. While Western developers were making narrative-driven games that funneled the player down a single, unchangeable path, European companies like Ion Storm (Deus Ex) were making games that let the player make all the decisions. These games could be played in a variety of ways, allowing the gamer to progress through the story using stealth, brute force, or even words. Sadly, this style of game never reached the level of popularity their  linear cousins enjoyed, and were mostly abandoned. Someone apparently forgot to break the bad news to the Stalker team. Stalker drops the player into the irradiated boots of a lowly mercenary trying to make his way on the outskirts of Chernobyl. The game features a wide range of missions that can be completed or ignored, an emphasis on inventory and cash management, and requires the player to monitor his standing with the games many factions. I'm only about 8 hours in, but I'm really enjoying it so far. It's a unique blend of true RPG elements and action that is truly fun and challenging. If you have a desire for exploration and a bit of patience for unorthodox game experiences, you will have a lot of fun with this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BioShock - &lt;/span&gt;The phrase "attention to detail" must be printed onto the very wallpaper of Irrational's offices. From the moment you get off the bathysphere and enter the city of Rapture, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you are in Rapture. &lt;/span&gt;The art direction, sound design, music, and graphics all work together to immerse you in BioShock's failed underwater utopia. The world of Rapture is absolutely beautiful, and if you're anything like me, you'll spend lots of time just wandering around looking at posters, statues or out windows. The main story line is certainly interesting, but the real treasure here are the numerous side stories that can be completely ignored if you're only concerned with blasting your way through the city. Explore a bit deeper, and you'll find audio recordings from plenty of other characters that were there before you. Sometimes those off-the-beaten-path rooms are themselves the rewards for your curiosity. Most of the time you won't find a special weapon or extra ammo, but a grisly scene that tells you exactly what happened in that room. Many of them will make you set down the controller and say "Wow. That's fucked up." The environment that BioShock creates and pulls you into is not a happy one, but a horrifying and troubling one that will unsettle you more than any Stephen King adaptation. Find a good pair of headphones and a dark room for this game, and let it scare your pants off. However, if you are one of those aforementioned blasters, you will find plenty to love here. The game's weapons aren't the most original, but the visceral feel of them will make you love the standard progression (pistol -&gt; machine gun -&gt; shotgun -&gt; rocket launcher, etc) all over again. There is also a wide range of "plasmids", or "spells" for RPG fans, to choose from if guns aren't your thing. I really can't say enough positive things about this game, so I'll just cut to what I didn't like. The multiple endings system in BioShock is lame and, as the lead designer has admitted, tacked-on. Since completing the game, I have not felt the urge to replay it, although the fact that it is roughly 20 hours makes up for that. Other than that, I don't have any complaints. So far, this is my Game of the Year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-5101129598971777754?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/5101129598971777754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=5101129598971777754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/5101129598971777754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/5101129598971777754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2007/11/crygear-of-biofortress-duty-3-shadow-of_16.html' title='CryGear of BioFortress Duty 3: Shadow of Episode 2.....Part 2'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-6833574549877876872</id><published>2007-11-14T13:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T16:03:04.177-06:00</updated><title type='text'>CryGear of BioFortress Duty 3: Shadow of Episode 2</title><content type='html'>Over the past few months, there has been a massive influx of triple A FPS shooter titles, allowing you to finally sate your uncontrollable blood lust in a way that doesn't involve lots of elaborate planning, heavy-duty trash bags, or midnight trips to the dumpster. I know it's hard to keep them all straight, so I've compiled this handy list to help you out. Hey kids, feel free to print this out, circle the ones you want for chrismahanakwanza, and send it to your grandma so you don't end up with &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Xtreme Paintballz&lt;/span&gt; under the tree/candles/kwanza thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Halo 3 &lt;/span&gt;- This is the big one, ladies and gentleman. With a marketing budget surpassing the GNP of several small countries, there is no way you don't know about this game. No movie or game can ever live up to an over-saturation hype scheme like this, but Bungie's newest (last?) Halo game falls particularly short. This game is simply one action set piece after another, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;very &lt;/span&gt;thinly strung together by monotonous and anti-climatic run-and-gun sections. The "series of set piece" style game is not inherently evil, but Halo 3 does it without emotionally drawing you into the world (see Call of Duty 4), without making you care about the paper-thin characters (see Half-life 2), without giving you any degree of freedom (see STALKER), and without creating a compelling locale (see BioShock). Sure, the multiplayer is good, but there's nothing here we haven't seen in games that don't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;charge a monthly fee to play it&lt;/span&gt;. Even the much-lauded replay feature has been featured regularly in PC games since Counter-Strike was launched 7 years ago. If you played the original Halo, congratulations, you've played Halo 2 and 3. Stick with those memories and skip this summer blockbuster of the gaming world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Gears of War - &lt;/span&gt;I'll be honest, I haven't gotten very far into this one. I cannot, for the life of me, figure out what everyone liked about this game. Gears is apparently engineered for some niche group of gamers who enjoy shooting blindly around corners, just-plain-dumb AI, insultingly hyper-macho characters, nauseating shaky-cam, writing that consists of mono-syllabic sentences like "Shit." or "Sweet.", and having the game assume control of their viewpoint to say "HEY LOOK AT THAT RIGHT THERE! HOW COOL IS THAT, AMIRITE???" Like that girl in your chemistry class, this game is beautiful but dumb dumb dumb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Call of Duty 4 - &lt;/span&gt;Linear, story-driven shoot-em-up done (mostly) right. COD4 is everything you could ask for from this style of shooter, from the compelling campaign, to the amazing graphics, to the way the game pulls you into it's world. The designers have clearly taken the age-old principle of "Show, don't tell" to heart, as many of the games most fun and breathtaking moments take place with you in complete control of your character. The downfall of an attempt to create a engrossing experience like COD4 is that one serious flaw can rip a player out of the carefully constructed world and remind him that he is, after all, playing a video game. The guilty party in this case is the enemy spawn system. Throughout the early levels of the game, we are taught that each area has a given number of enemies, and if we wish to survive, we must take our time, hunker down, and take them out one by one. This formula is thrown at the window at seemingly random points of the game, where we are expected to break cover and charge the enemy position. If we follow the previously established rules, we are faced with an endless firefight as an infinite number of enemies spawn out of view, then rush out at us as if that house/shed/bunker/ was some kind of terrorist clown car. The moment you realize that no matter how many Deliberately-Vague-Nationality Freedom Fighters you kill, they will keep coming is the moment the illusion shatters. Simply adding an auditory or visual clue that you need to move your squad up would have been enormously helpful. This complaint is honestly just nitpicking a fantastic game (to say nothing of the also-fantastic multiplayer), but it is such a tragic flaw that I feel compelled to point it out. Please do yourself a favor and pick this one up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More to come...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-6833574549877876872?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/6833574549877876872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=6833574549877876872' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/6833574549877876872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/6833574549877876872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2007/11/crygear-of-biofortress-duty-3-shadow-of.html' title='CryGear of BioFortress Duty 3: Shadow of Episode 2'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-4723962775973962289</id><published>2007-11-14T10:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T10:10:25.577-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Everyone should read Achewood</title><content type='html'>"The best thing that can be said about the Cadillac Escalade is that it has the fuel economy of an oil fire and it handles like a Best Western"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;www.achewood.com&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-4723962775973962289?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/4723962775973962289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=4723962775973962289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/4723962775973962289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/4723962775973962289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2007/11/everyone-should-read-achewood.html' title='Everyone should read Achewood'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2226490317365045247.post-1767627502584248428</id><published>2007-11-12T06:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T07:04:36.836-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The first one</title><content type='html'>I've been thinking about starting a blog for a while now, not because I believe that I have something important to discuss with you, the internaut, but because I need some place to dump all these things that have been kicking around in my head. Also, I need something to do in class, and typing on a laptop looks much less moody and emo than scrawling page after page of what is clearly &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not &lt;/span&gt;lecture notes in a notebook. I'm going to try to keep this updated regularly, since no one likes a blog that only updates once every 3 months. Besides, if you are reading this regularly, you must be at least a little interested in what I have to say, and who am I to keep my adoring, although theoretical, audience waiting. Stay tuned, we'll see what happens.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2226490317365045247-1767627502584248428?l=haroldsvault.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/feeds/1767627502584248428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2226490317365045247&amp;postID=1767627502584248428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/1767627502584248428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2226490317365045247/posts/default/1767627502584248428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haroldsvault.blogspot.com/2007/11/first-one.html' title='The first one'/><author><name>Harold</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04199004914689513193</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
