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Friday, November 29th, 2002

Y2kk Update: As you can already see (or, um, maybe not see, considering this is the first line of my update), I'm in no real Russia rush or roulette hurry to finish this week's no-name update. The fact of the matter is, I have no initiative (no pun intended... or, wait, there was no pun... or was there?... um, nevermind...). I have no drive. Buffy the Vampire Slayer is now officially done its new episodes up until January, and considering I have no movies to review until after exam time (and since I only waste my exam time writing updates nobody ever reads), that leaves me with little more than Enterprise to review up until jolly good Saint Nick comes knocking at my door. So what's going to happen is that I'm going to run through my Buffy and Enterprise reviews of the week, take a week off next week, and hopefully make a triumphant return two or three weeks from now with a triumvirate of Enterprise reviews (not to mention Nemesis, but that may not be for a while). Or if I'm lucky, maybe Buffy will tease us with a new episode in late December or something, with the return of the initiative or some crap like that (I knew there was a pun!... okay, I'll shut up now)... or so I can wish, if I really do want to write no-name nothings for the next few weeks...

There's just one thing bugging me about the forums this week... Now, don't get me wrong. Obviously, since I review BTVS week in, week out, I love the show till death do us part. But the thing is, I've never really gotten what modern geeks love about Buffy so damn much. I mean, I spent the better half of yesterday studying Star Trek Nemesis early bird reviews rather than study for my programming quiz, and the thing that got me so rattled up at Aint it Cool News was the trendy, double standard that practically ever single poster seemed to have. They all slurred and insulted the Nemesis script (since of course, they had all aristocratically spoiled themselves by reading the draft available on the net), claiming that it was the worst turd they've ever reviewed since... well... Insurrection... or even Voyager... and that's pretty cruel... And for a while, they had me going. For a while, I actually believed these fellow online nerds of mine opinions, that Nemesis was the first even number Trek film to truly prune juice aplomb... and then of course, those Aint-It-Cool, not-so-cool bastards just had to lose all their credibility by a) claiming Star Trek should be more like Lord of the Rings (a movie I find aestically pleasing, giftedly directed, but absolutely nothing more), b) claiming Star Trek should be more like the Matrix (a movie that was so gospel, preachy, and trendy in its storyline that the only part I could bare to watch was the final fist fight against Agent Smith), c) claiming Star Trek should be more like Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back (the only film to ever actually put me to sleep both in my childhood and my adulthood), d) claiming Star Trek 6: The Undiscovered Country sucked ass (which was actually my favourite Trek movie, simply because the Klingon General's bizarre Shakespearean obsession was just so damn cool), and by e) claiming Enterprise, The Next Generation, Star Trek Generations, First Contact, and my beloved Stargate SG-1 all goddam sucked... and, um... as I said, there goes their credibility out the window, at least from my point of callous view... because wow, these uber cool nerds really do like a lot, don't they? Especially since they ignored the fact that practically every sci-fi show since Star Trek took the Trek formula and simply made it cool to sell their image off. These online critics are just so open minded and so open winded, that it's so damn easy to please their innermost desires, I can tell you that... Just get me a pair of handcuffs, some lubricant, and a single wish, and I'll make all their dreamy puns come true... or, um, not exactly me per say, because, um, that doesn't exactly sound too good, so... um... nevermind...

But the thing that really got me, was that most of those damn AICN posters actually complimented Buffy the Vampire Slayer! They hated every other series I liked, yet they loved Sarah Michelle Gellar (without admitting they loved Sarah Michelle Gellar, mind you)? So the thing I must ask is, why is Buffy the Vampire Slayer supposedly so damn good? Sure, metaphors are always cool to, um, demetaphorsize or whatever kind of onion unravelling crap, and BTVS is stockpiled full of them (mostly related to girly teen angst, though). But metaphors are everywhere, in every shape and show and snow-covered colour. So the debate remains, what makes the metaphors in Buffy, Matrix, and Lord of the Rings so damn cool to these science-fiction-philes? And the thing is, I basically just answered my own question. Nerds want to be cool, like superheroes, except without the crotch revealing underwear and all the goody two shoes crap. Buffy is grrrl power mixed with bad-ass demons. Matrix gives hope to geeks, that hacking paves way to enlightenment or massacring or some crap like that. And who knows why the Oedipal quest crap in fantasy movies is so popular these days, and who knows? Maybe Lord of the Rings' fanfare will actually die out before the third movie even makes it to theatres? And yet none of the posters on the forums commented even once on this pattern of "coolness"... instead, they talked about camera shots, continuity between episodes, realistic physics, actor reputation and nobility, natural character chemistry and interaction, and fiscal, superficial crap like that, as if they were measuring sci-fi like it was anything but sci-fi, the stuff that dreams are made of... They were measuring it all as the stuff we nerds wished we were actually about (no pun intended... wait, there wasn't a pun there either... oh, nevermind...). They were measuring it all, as if they wanted to be real.

Anyhew, even though I personally enjoy Enterprise more than Buffy, that's not to say that I can't go without my Sarah Michelle Gellar fix of the week. This week's episode, "Never Leave Me", may have a title so vague that pondering over it may never leave my mind, but it was also definitely a good episode to end November sweeps with, although I don't exactly think it was a good episode to end the first half of the season with. Running through the cast, Spike was at the top of his game this episode, giving insight into souls being about pain and self-loathing and crap like that. Buffy had a good role this episode as well, showing concern for Spike and yet showing contempt and mistrust as well. Although I didn't exactly enjoy the moment where she told Spike that she believed in him (since just last week on my download site, I cried out that I don't want people to believe in me, but rather care about me, although I guess Buffy did to an extent, with a certain morale highground advantage about her), I did enjoy her overall chemistry with James Marsters, as he talked about pain being relative and how she doesn't know the real him, or what he's done to girls Dawn's age. Dawn didn't factor much into this episode, although for some odd reason, she was able to kick the Harbringer's butts in the end better than anybody else. Xander wasn't very important except for tool talk, although his little interrogation of Andrew is worth a second watch. Anya did nothing but slap Andrew silly, but it was still pretty damn funny to see her riding on Andrew, a beautiful woman rolling with a nerd like me, as if all my wishes had just come true (You see? There's the pun! Or maybe not... okay, um, I'll just shut up now...).

The overall plot of the episode however, was a little too cliche for me. After all the build-up in Conversations with Dead People, the seal in the high school basement still didn't get enough blood to open up? I mean, sure it lead to such wonderous lines as Babe 2 being highly overrated and Obi Wan Warren being a Patrick Swayze, but everything was all rather anti-climatic in the end. The First Evil (now confirmed to be the baddie) has harbringers attacking Watchers all across the world, yet it doesn't send in an army to finish off Willow or Buffy? It could control Spike using a song as a trigger, yet didn't bother using him to slay sacrifices on the seal (unless slurping down half of Sunnydale was what the First Evil needed in Spike)? And sure, seeing the Watcher's Council blow up or whatever was pretty unexpected, but I wasn't thrown off from the surprise. Instead, I was thrown off the track onto tacks because I wasn't sure if it was the council that actually did blow up, since it didn't show Quetin or whoever with an explosion behind his back, and because cheap computer effects made the blown up building look like something else then it was, whatever the hell it was (unless that's what the writers wanted us to perceive). In the end, although the set up of this season was brilliant, the mid-season pay off just didn't deliver big enough for me. The ubervamp or whatever didn't look any more threatening than the Master Vamp or the Demon running around Rain of Fire LA right now. The Harbringers were beaten up by the Slayer's sister with a pole. The First Evil still can't do anything but smirk and compliment snarky Spike without his shirt. And I still haven't seen all my favourites from the past, like the Mayor, Adam (even though girl fans thought he was so boring), or enough from Warren (the real Warren, at least). I guess my expectations were raised far too high from stellar November sweeps and rampant speculation, because alas... alack. Amy Acker, Ecks vs Sever, and whatever acks kind of crap... just like the First Evil, the climax in the end was all talk and not so much go. It simply did not steal the show. But to steal a cliche, it's not them. It's me. Because I still don't know why the hell everyone loves Buffy, or what the hell makes Buffy the Vampire Slayer so great in the hierarchy of sci-fi.

But I guess that's just me, being an Enterprise fan and all. The only weird thing about Enterprise though, is that the writers don't seem to try very hard during November sweeps. Not exactly sure why. Sure, I feel lucky that new episodes will continue ruining through December, but still, it just feels weird that they simply did not put much effort into this week's episode, "Vanishing Point". That's not to say I didn't like this episode. In fact, I kinda loved it, although for the wrong reasons. Reasons being, Hoshi the hottie was half naked, stuck in her cute as a button, cotton pants and exercise top, for half of the whole show. The scenes where she took off her robe for a shower, and where she conviently drapes down her hair right before going transparant, all managed to get me aroused. But the thing is, besides the obvious sex appeal, there really wasn't much to this Enterprise episode. Mayweather was once again invisible (no pun intended... ha! This actually was a pun!), Archer didn't do much except have a really bad conversation with Hoshi's father, Reed was a non-factor, and the aliens of the week didn't really show up until the last act of the show. However, Phlox had quite a few good scenes, going with his evil sneaky sneer at the start, than transforming to his warm, teddy bear Roosevelt self by the end. Tucker was featured prominantly in Hoshi's fantasy, as if she has some crush brewing for the engineer or some crap like that. I mean, why else would she dream of Trip alone with her cellular goo residue, only thinking about her (although you can make similar crush arguments about Archer noticing the morse code, Reed using the transporter, and Mayweather, um, just being there... or lack thereof...)? And then there's evil T'Pol, who seemed to pose a threat to Hoshi at three different times in the dreams. First, she stared unnecessarily evily at Hoshi on the bridge after she woke up late. Second, she sort of rubbed it in Hoshi's face that crewman whatever figured out the simple alien language. And thirdly, T'Pol convinced Archer that the morse code was nothing more than a malfunction, pulling the captain away from a very adorable Hoshi, who was jumping in her spot, fidgeting away with her fingers and tinkering with the Christmas lights. And the moral of this romance story? It really seems to me like a feud is brewing between the two female leads on the show. Hoshi can't decide between Tucker and Reed, and T'Pol can't decide between Trip and Archer... and poor Mayweather is left with nothing to do but fill Reed's old shoes and turn amigously gay... or maybe, in the end, the two girls will get together on a coffee table, no pun intended (since there is no pun), since sugar and spice and, um, everything useless unless you're baking, that's what dreams are made for...

Of course, I can complain about all the technical nitpicks of this episode, like how Hoshi can sit on railings and hear her footsteps while she's phase-cloaked, but then I would have to rip apart every single sci-fi show that's ever done the same (and that's a hell of a lot). And besides, the whole ordeal ended up being one big dream sequence anyways, which was both kind of a relief and kind of a disappointment. Simply put, both Buffy and Enterprise this week had decent episodes that simply did not have decent finishes. Buffy didn't have a cool showdown like Wesley did riding shotgun in Angel (although that doesn't sound too good), while all Hoshi did in the end was jump onto a transporter in her mind and show up exactly where she left off. Sure, it was a nice chance of pace to have an episode where the crew mistrusted the transporter again, and of course it was nice to see Hoshi conviently get half baked, half naked right before she went Invisible Woman (although technically, shouldn't her clothes have fallen off?... hmmm.... mmm... I wish, but, um, nevermind... it's been a long night...). And if this keeps up, Linda Park may very well replace Nicole Deboer at the top of my list of favourite Star Trek actresses, although that'll probably require a future dress-down in a movie theatre, but that's besides the point... The point is, with naked Hoshi, Romulan Birds of Prey, and Evil Phlox all running around Enterprise this season, how the hell can uber nerds possibly say the show sucks? It's almost like Star Trek: Original Series fans grew up and became the very same people that made fun of them for so many years. Either that, or Star Trek V and Voyager scarred them for life, which would actually explain a hell of a lot... and, well...

That's the process of maturity, I suppose. That's the progress of aging. That's the wish of the Naked Now, no pun intended... although, um... let me guess... no pun again?... because ay, there lies the rub... an anti-climatic Y2kk finish for no-name me. How's that for IvanFian irony? Of having no initiative, and having no end? Of simply having nothing left to dream, to dare to dream, except to wish?... no pun intended, of course...

Thursday, November 21st, 2002

Y2kk Update: Heh... had my first hands-on encounter with foosball today... or fousball, or foobar, or Rollerball, or whatever you call that goddam game...  My old best friend used to brag all the time how he's the foosball champ of the world or some crap like that. Heck, he was always boasting of his bragging, even though he could never back up a word he said... And the thing was, I was invited to my current friend's tournament table this morning just after coming back from a horrid Advanced Engineering test, which went so badly that I even wrote on the cover, "If you're going to do it wrong, you might as well do it right", or something along those lines... for months, I've been avoiding ping-pong with my friends, simply because I sucked at it compared to them. For years, I've been avoiding their weekly Cricket games, simply because I barely had heard of the sport before I found myself in a university where it somehow was the one and only sport... But even though my friends have been practicing foosball for the past month or so, I didn't feel very daunted by their omnipotent presence. Not this time around, anyhew... I mean, they couldn't even spin the handles properly, but then again, neither could I... So like my Boo Radley grotto motto goes, if I'm going to do it wrong, I might as well do it right... and I did... By pure crapjack luck, I did. I lucked out, or beginner's lucked out, at the very least. I scored five times in a row in the first thirty seconds alone. And my friends even went, "Whoah! We're playing against a natural here"... and, well... of course, that's when my natural stupidity kicked in, or perhaps my ego did. Either one's the same... Because from that moment on, I was completely shut out. For ten minutes straight, I was completely shut out. I was damn hussled, but heck, at least it was fun... and, well... I guess that's the story of my life, isn't it? Just when I think I'm on a roll, the ball just happens to roll into the wrong court and straight into my ass... I just hope my first foosball game wasn't some damn template for my engineering math quiz or some crap like that, because if it was, and I fail my damn course, then I'll have a hell of a lot more time to update this website, starting next term... and a hell of a lot more time to practice my foosbar routine... And it all sounds like so much fun, doesn't it?

And truth be told, something doesn't have to be fun to be addicting. It's absolutely mind-boggling as to why I keep going back to the Buffy forums with increasing verocity, week after week after week, when all I do there is essentially shake my anonymous head at all the whiny girls and guys complaining that the Buffy writers are idiots. I mean, this week the central complaint was especially dumb. I actually saw half a dozen threads devoted to Angel being a better souled person than Spike, as if the posters were living out the "my sire can beat your sire" Xander line from this week's episode. I mean, simply because Spike claimed, "I did what you wanted" to the Big Bad or whoever was haunting him, God knows how many frantic posters all went into a foobar frenzy and complained that Spike consciously chose to kill all the people he did, and therefore the writers have ruined their love for Spike... and, um... Of course, these naysayers completed ignored the facts that a) Spike had honestly no memory of what he's done, b) if he had any intention to hurt, his chip would've gone off, unless it was tampered with or shut off by the Big Bad, c) Spike even attacked the woman he loves after he heard a "Pavlov" song or some crap like that, so he obviously had no self control, and c) for God's sake, Spike has a soul! He was a vampire that actually cried, and now he has a bloody soul! I know lots on the forums still refuse to believe William willingly won back his soul, but honestly, in this episode, he even vocally admitted it, and yet people still argued that Spike was killing in this episode because, like Angel in the 1890s, he never wanted to be cursed with a conscience. And honestly, who throws a captain's shoe? It's like most of the most fanatical fans out there don't even listen to the shows anymore, but rather dream of their own shows when reading up about the shows from people who've never even seen the show, but I digress... then again, these posters could all be really damn sulky and sultry smart, and simply be pulling my legs apart for a good laugh... then again, they could be hussling me, because if you're going to do it wrong, you might as well do it right...

Anyhew, this week's episode of Buffy, "Sleeper", should've been a sleeper hit. I mean, I honestly should've enjoyed this episode a hell of a lot more than I did. Afterall, I loved most of Spike's scenes, especially his reaction after tasting Buffy's blood. Either her blood has some magic in it, or Spike simply loves his Buffy so much that he managed to beat off the Big Bad's influence. And it was also touching how he opened his shirt to be staked, not to mention he probably thought Anya's stake was kinky as well, but I digress... I also enjoyed the little music montage during Spike's fight with his "one bite stand". Although it was no Fifth Element, and the fighting was a bit sloppy, I do admit that Spike's punches and dodges were synced rather well with the music going down in the Bronze. Sarah Michelle Gellar did a good role in this episode as well, seeming nicely hurt and concerned when the Bouncer guy told her Spike was a player. She really did seem like she cared when she said Spike's different, now that he has a soul. Although the ending of this episode was a little weak (keeping Spike in the Summer's home wasn't argued by the Scoobies very much), I did like the interaction between Buffy and Spike as he tried to cry his soul out... The rest of the cast did rather admirable jobs as well. Anya was especially funny, slinking into her sex bot mode a little too quickly to be considered not horny. Xander had some quipy lines that worked wonders well, although he did noticely disappear by the middle of the episode for really no apparent reason. Dawn also had a small role, but it was nice that she wasn't decisively stuck on the ghost of Joyce either being completely real or completely fake. An inbetween is always nice... And the thing was, that's strangely all this episode felt to me. I felt like I was sleep-walking through this entire episode along with Spike. Honestly, I should've loved it, yet in the end, because certain parts of it hurt my teeth and cringed my forehead into a vampire shape, this episode was no more to me than ho-hum. I mean, the harmonic guy somehow made my ears bleed, Spike admitting that he talks to other girls felt strangely misplaced, the multi vampire fight at the end was too short and anti-climatic, and overall, "Sleepers" just couldn't keep my interest nearly as much as last week's episode did, and I didn't even especially like that one either. Maybe reading the forums a little too much lately is ruining my taste in episodes or something, but like I said last week, I'm more of a fan of funny angst than mystery angst. And unfortunately, this episode falls into the latter category, the category that normally puts me to sleep by rolling my eyes to the other ball court. Because when they do it wrong, they definitely do it right. And sometimes it burns.

But not so on Enterprise this week, because lo and behold, maybe my recent boredom while watching television wasn't just because of me. Because I truly did enjoy this week's episode, "Singularity", simply because it had brilliant transitions between light comedy to dark comedy channel suspense, resulting in time definitely well wasted. Simply put, all the characters had a decent role in this episode, although some were more prominant on the promenade than others. Mayweather was once again unconscious for most of the episode, but at least he got some lines in before he was knocked on his ass. Although it was strange for a New Age show like Enterprise to focus an episode on a woman's cooking (although cooking is actually what turned me on most about my Grade 12 crush... but, um, nevermind...), it was still silly and humourous to see Hoshi sweat and fret over a pot of soup that tasted too salty. And honestly, the scene where she's told her food was too salty was perhaps one of the most billiant scenes in the history of all of Star Trek. Because honestly, I still can't and couldn't believe my own memories, how I never once realized after a year and a half of Enterprise, that the damn ship doesn't even have a Red Alert klaxon! And once I realized my own stupidity, I just couldn't help but barrel over laughing when Trip actually invented the "Reed Alert". Although it's kinda awkward how Tucker hasn't been involved with the original threesome lately (no real interaction with T'Pol and Archer), I just love his little friendly feud going on with Malcolm, and the chemistry between the two truly shines here. In all honesty, as much as I loved Shuttlepod One, I've got to make the bold claim that this was my favourite episode for Malcolm ever so far. Everything somehow meshed perfectly for him. Demanding T'Pol's security code and wearing a side-arm on the ship truly did make the military man seem menacing. And inciting a battlestations drill without even informing the captain, and then getting into a fist-fight with the snail-slow Tucker was sheer brilliance as well. And the best part of it all, was that even after Malcolm ridiculed Trip for arriving to the bridge so late, Tucker still couldn't get past the fact that the captain's chair didn't have a cup-holder and micro-inertial dampeners on it... God, I want micro-inertial dampeners on my chair, although a cup-holder would be nicer... but don't fret, as long as I've got the cash, you bet your ass I'm gonna install both as soon as I can, the best I can. Because when I'm destined to do it wrong, trust me, I'll definitely do it right...

If anyone was more psychotic than Malcolm (and me, I suppose) this episode, it was definitely Phlox. I mean, he was always already a little derranged before that little cosmic, quantum singularity radiation came about, wasn't he? Smiling in sickbay, even though a Klingon was ready to wake up and slit his throat. Charming with Charles Tucker, even when Enterprise was about to be recalled. Condeming an entire planet to the plague, just so he wouldn't need to synthesize a bunch of medicine to save a race he doesn't care about, but I digress... And quite frankly, the moment where he pulls a scalpel knife on T'Pol was one of the greatest Phlox moments yet, simply because he said it with such a sneer sincerity, something which only a snivelling guy like Phlox could salvage... T'Pol wasn't bad in this episode, nerve-pinching the doctor while shoving Archer in a shower (hmm... never thought about the implications of that...). However, she was a little slow at putting together one and one with the radiation, she didn't wake Tucker or anyone else to help fly the ship at the end, and it was kind of strange how she was again bad-mouthing humans as being "erratic" and irrational (didn't she stop saying that months ago?). Archer wasn't much better this episode, getting only a few decent scenes in (such as the one where Tucker tells him he obviously can't write). It was kind of odd why he never once mentioned his preface preoccupation during his little flying lesson at the end, but I assume it was meant to display that he truly does care for his ship, sort of like Spike snapping out of his sleeper phase out of affection for Buffy or some crap like that. However, although separately T'Pol and Archer didn't have exactly the most excelling of moments (no pun intended... wait, there is no pun there... nevermind...), their combined efforts at the end truly did provide for one of the most satisfying climix scenes in all of Enterprise (no pun intended again... if there is a pun... wait, there isn't... oh well, AOL, there's a Royal Tenuous Bomb for you...). Because what I've been clamouring to see for God knows how many years, is simply for plot-holes to all come together at the end of the episode, hopefully without any of us seeing the eventual union in advance. Such as Phlox's insanely in-depth scans of Mayweather's headache helping T'Pol discover the effects of the radiation. And most brilliantly, when Malcolm's illegal "Reed Alert" kicked in exactly when the ship needed it, charging the phase cannons before poor Enterprise could be crushed. Too bad my new hero was a little too unconscious to see it, but it's nice to know that there's another out there who, when he knew he was going to do it wrong, was determined to do it right...

And visually, the flight through the Black Hole, event-horizon thingy near the end was simply astonishing. Sure, it was odd how time dillations weren't even mentioned this episode, but at 2 million km away, it probably wouldn't have made much of a difference, and probably all it would've done was bog down brilliant plot convergences with Voyager-class technobabble. And since I'm babbling now a bit too much about adieu to nothing, I'd better call it quits sooner than later. But before I go, I might as well note that even though episodes where the crew's minds are altered have been done to death by Star Trek alone (I especially remember cringing from Data's homely horniness in "The Naked Now"), I personally found "Singularity" to be the sleeper Star Trek hit of the year. Turning little trivial things into psychotic obsessions has always been a personal obsession of mine, and evidentally a personal obsession of the obsessed on the Buffy forums as well... Because even though I'm now sounding like a broken record, or a foosball table with a foobar handle, it's just so damn true, oh it's true, that when you're gonna do it wrong, you might as well do it right. And that's why it sounds like so much fun, doesn't it?

Wednesday, November 13th, 2002

Y2kk Update: I can't believe I did so badly... I guess this is my reward for helping others with their projects... or actually, I guess this was my award for being so damn cocky that I barely studied for the damn thing... because goddammit, I just can't believe I did so bad. While everyone around me was complaining about getting 60% here and 70% there, I finally got hold of that stupid, goddam computer exam of mine, and lo and behold, I guess that Santa Clause really made me an absolute computer clutz for Christmas this year... instead of being a lucky rabbit's foot, that damn ticket stub stubbed my toe as a damn rabbitattack, because simply put, I actually failed that goddam computer exam of mine... I got a goddam 45%, which was even worse than I originally feared... and, well... I guess you can expect that it hurts to get even lower than what I expect to get these damn, dirty, ape days... I mean, everyone around me claimed for the past week or so that they did so badly on that computer mid-term exam, that they were all going to burn their papers together in one, big bonfire or some crap like that... and yet just like it always is, just like it always has to be, I'm the only one who ever makes good on the promises we make, on the palms we wave, on the psalms we sing. Because I'm the only one that didn't lie. I'm the only one who failed. And that hurts.

Considering programming was one of the only things I have (or had) pride left in this goddam world, you can imagine that I wasn't exactly a happy camper when I saw that the people I routinely help with their programming assignments got on average about twenty bloody percent higher than me... So when I thankfully got home yesterday and pretty much shyed away from my parents, I really didn't feel like doing a damn thing but turn on that telly of mine and just hope, and just pray, and just damn probe that something, just something, on that magical screen would rose my cheeks and cheer me up. Because opposite to my friends, the TV never lies...

And boy, head boy, was I lucky. Because although I never talk about it on this site, I do watch Angel. I'm not exactly a fan of the series, considering its endless brooding gets on even my nerves, and its romantic arcs move faster than a goddam soap opera for Christ's sakes... not to mention the current Oedipal thing going on with Connor and Cordelia, which is actually a sick pills plus in my eyes, but I digress... But even though I can't remember the name of this episode anymore, I truly did forget (at least, for an hour) all the pain and humiliation I endured that day, simply because this week's Tabula Rosa, clean-slate or whatever episode, was simply that damn funny. I give it sixteen candles and sixteen stars.

Because thanks to this episode, I felt sixteen all over again, simply because I've always wondered what it would be like if all the Angel characters returned to their snotty, bratty, childish, rejected-from-BTVS personalities, and golly gee, now I know. Wesley was simply the pinnacle of comedy, all the way from his head boy routine, to his karate fighting, to especially his "Let's not give up probe" command... Because honestly I couldn't help but feel the same as poor, sexually repressed, Wyndam Price, as he patted Fred's breast and told her not to fear... I mean, "all-neck" Amy Acker (who plays Fred) has been the most attractive woman in a television series to me since possibly even Sarah Michelle Gellar from way back in season 2. And I couldn't help but raise a couple dozen eyebrows whenever Fred talked about government conspiracies and naked bodies helplessly probed on laboratory tables, I couldn't help but wonder why she was so frisky while frisking herself with the wooden cross, and I couldn't help but snortle like her whenever she asked for a bag of weed... which actually reminded me a lot of a certain mathematical genius from my own high school life, but I digress... Anyhew, enough dreaming for one no-name review. Might as well say, the rest of the cast was brilliant as well. Lorne did a pretty good narration, Cordelia whining about her hair was pure salty goodness, Gunn claiming he'll never take orders from the white folks around him was simply hilarious, and who can possibly forget frantic Angel/Liam as he told Cordelia, "I'm invisible!", only to be retorted with a sharp, "No, you're not"... and, well, okay... um, maybe the comedy of this sweet sixteen episode doesn't bode so well on paper, but I certainly have to give major props and probes to Joss Whedon anyhew, simply because if it wasn't for him and his brilliant writing, I might've gone insane. I mean, who knows what the government is doing to my naked body through these goddam programming tests?

Anyhew, there was one thing that weirded and wrinkled me out about Buffy this week. In Conversations With Dead People, Spike didn't act insane whatsoever. In fact, he even sired a psychiatrist and picked on a blonde girl. And the thing was, Spike's actions this week along with the notable absence of both Xander and Anya have sadly and predictably sent shockwaves across the internet, as the fantical world of "fandom" has demanded the heads of Joss Whedon and the so-called "Mutant Enemy" for ruining their beloved Buffy characters yet again... and, um... Well, I've always been one to tolerate and even have a hardy laugh at militant internet factions, but honestly, didn't they get enough of this petition signing and forum spamming with the whole Tara and evil Willow thing? And what's even stranger, is that so many of these complainers never exactly mentioned how Spike didn't even feel an ounce of pain when he bit into the girl's neck, as if he wasn't actually the one biting her or some crap like that. I mean last year, I couldn't help but quit reading the forums, simply because people cared so much more about themselves than any of the writers' feelings. They went as far as to claim that killing off characters to make better storylines was morally wrong, simply because those characters had become their heroes and heroines... heh... they were heroine addicts... um, nevermind... But of course, they didn't exactly complain when my hero, Warren, was flayed and flamboyed and flabbergasted alive, but that's besides the point... The point is, this time around, I may have to quit reading the forums all over again, simply to keep my sanity level higher than Spike's. Because reading about all those women giving internet, e-hugs to one another, reassuring them that Spike is not evil and that everything will be alright, is simply goddam getting on my nerves. And in a week where I pretty much have no more pride and no more patience, that can't exactly be good for business. That can't be good for anyone.

I did enjoy Conversations With Dead People though, as did a lot of those same people I talked about online. Personally, I thought it was one of the most well done episodes in a very long time, simply because it merged and meshed so many different types of storylines into a brilliantly coherent plotline. This was possibly the most frightening episode since Hush, when the smiling, heart-tearing Gentleman floated across the scene. Because simply put, although Dawn suddenly being able to use magic was a bit cheesy, seeing flashes of her mother Joyce on the very couch that she died, was enough to get even me startled and rattled in my seat... I didn't care much for Willow's storyline, since I was never exactly a fan of her relationship with Tara. However, I couldn't help but smile in unison with the fake Cassie, when she so eeriely pointed out that, "Beneath you, it devours... Not it... Me."... And, well, for whatever Y2kk readers I actually have left and who actually know me, you probably can guess what parts of the episode I enjoyed most. Considering I loved Normal Again last year while many fans were petitioning for that vile episode to be stripped from the records, I couldn't help but fall in love with hunting hat Holden, the psychiatrist vampire. Not only did he have such classic lines as, "I'm here to kill you, not to judge you", but he also brought out the best in Buffy as well. It was ridiculously funny, at least to no-name me, seeing a diabolical vampire trying to get Buffy to remember him from high school. I've always been a huge admirer of humourous angst, simply because I could never write it properly myself, and seeing Buffy using a gravestone as a psychiatry chair or whatever was simply golden. It was a nice touch when the vampire pronounced the word "Nemisies" properly, and I couldn't help but smile in glee when Buffy told Holden, "I think you're confusing me because you're evil...", or something along those lines... And perhaps most importantly, Holden was actually a good psychiatrist! For once, after a decade of mockery on Frasier, TV finally had a good psychiatrist! Sure, I would've preferred if he extended and encompassed his revelation at the end to all people, that all people have inferiority complexes about their superiority complexes, and that everyone has a superiority complex about being inferior, like I damn well do today, but that's besides the point...

The thing was, I felt bad when Holden was dusted, and I think Buffy did as well. I felt spooked by the evil Cassie, and I'm sure Willow did as well. And the thing is, this episode truly did hype up this last season of Buffy extremely well, because simply put, the Big Bad of the year is truly bigger and badder than I ever once thought. Not only can this thing shapeshift and mimic the mind and memories of the dead, but it was also in so many places all at once, at 8:01pm no less (clue perhaps? Oh well, AOL, who really cares...). It was with Willow at the same time it was posing as Warren, goading Andrew with the ever classic line, "That boy is our last hope... No, there is another" (poor Jonathan; he was my hero, and now he's gone... where's can I sign a petition?). The big evil was possibly in the Summer's house at the same time as well, destroying furniture and scarring the face of Dawn (though because the apparition was glowing at the end, some fans believe that it was the real Joyce there and not the Big Bad, despite the evil, ominous message that made Dawn cry...). And I'm sure that Spike was possessed or something by the Big Bad when he seduced and sired that blonde or something, and who knows? Maybe the Big Bad was talking through my hero, Holden, at the same time as well... It's just too bad that this episode came at such a bad time in my life, because after a travesty like my goddam computer exam, I didn't need more angst. I didn't need November Sweeps. Instead, I needed hope. I needed probe. I needed the laughter and comedy that only Angel could provide for me this week, and Buffy simply could not. And it's quite a shame too. If I wasn't so goddam depressed, six feet under, I'm sure I would've loved this episode.

And unfortunately, it looks like this week's episode of Enterprise, The Communicator, was just another victim of my own conversations with dead people this week. I couldn't help but feel a little diluted, diverted, and distracted when I flicked the switch to Enterprise this week. I was preoccupied with thoughts of my own stupidity, and thus couldn't exactly concentrate on or concatenate the Star Trek goodness at hand. And as a result, I didn't exactly enjoy this episode, so I won't say much about it. I thought Malcolm was oddly bland this week, while strangely optimistic at the same time, even though the Malcolm from Minefield just a few weeks ago would've been kicking himself all week long for losing that communicator. T'Pol had nothing to do, and Mayweather was simply there for no reason yet again except to shut the critics up and   simply be on camera (like last week, when he did nothing but pin Menos to the ground, but I digress). Trip was once again the comic relief, and I did cheer up a bit from his little cloaked arm thing. But I couldn't help but feel intrinsically sad when he asked to come along on the retrieval mission, only to be turned down by Archer in favour of the bumbling Malcolm. And do I smell Oedipal?... um, nevermind... Because somehow, just somehow, the look on Tucker's face, reminded me of my own alienation and humiliation that lonesome day, but that's besides the point... And Archer? He truly was a passive character this episode. He debated his fate a bit, which was alright I guess, but besides pretending like the Alliance or whoever had phase pistols and cloaked byplanes, he really didn't say that much. He got beat around the bush, got his fake face pulled off (why are 22nd century disguises no better than modern make-up?), and became his old, confused self by the end of the episode.

And I for one am still confused whether this episode was meant to focus on characters more than plot, or vice versa. Because honestly, nobody and I mean nobody really did anything, and yet the plot was rather lacking as well. The writers were probably trying to implement some ethical dilemma or something, about contanimating cultures or some crap like that (I wasn't paying attention much). But the only debate I interpreted in my head was whether making the Alliance look like space age freaks of genetic nature would affect their society more than just admitting Malcolm and Archer were aliens. I mean, who would've believed them? What harm would it really have caused, as long as they got rescued and their technology taken back? Because even in the New Age today, few believe in the UFO Vimana stories from WW2, so... But the point of the matter is, I simply not enjoy this episode, and why? Because in a day when my pride and ethics were all broken and beaten down, in a day when I was feeling so much damn stupider than everyone else around me, the last thing I wanted was to find on television an episode that was trying to be smart. The least I needed was another reminder of my own stupidity.

But with that being said, whenever I want some mindless action, whenever I want an atmosphere where intelligence has no meaning, I now have a plane of reality to escape to. Or at least, I hoped and probed that I would've... Because immediately after my circuit test last week, I raced all the way to the video game store I always go to, heaved my way past the sign that said closed, and politely begged the owner out of the kindness of my heart to please, oh pretty please, sell me Timesplitters 2 for the Gamecube. I told him the truth, that I had been waiting for the game for the longest time. It's just that my so many mid-term tests and so many goddam exams were holding me down, holding the hunting cap from my Nero hero, Holden and I, but I digress... and, well, I managed to make it back to the train station on time, and I managed to skip the next two days of school, just to unwind from my stupid programming mid-term exam and test my responsive, rear-end, repetitive stupidity on a first person shooter that supposedly required no intelligence whatsoever... or so I thought...

Simply put, I'll be honest. Timesplitters 2 is a good game. The problem is, it's not the game I wanted. And it's not like I had huge expectations for it or anything either. All I wanted, was a game that was similar to Goldeneye. And in the end, all I got was a mixed breed of Quake 3 and Perfect Dark... which isn't exactly a bad thing, mind you. It's just not what I wanted. In Goldeneye, I loved the multiplayer aspect, simply because the slowed down pace of the game (compared to Quake 2 for the PC at least) brought out so much more sniping and strafing strategies, and more sheer brilliance than any FPS before it in my opinion. But above all else, I loved the Goldeneye single player campaign. I played the first and second stages more times than I can possibly remember, and even though I sucked at the train stage, I couldn't help but have so many hardy rounds with those baddies in that stage, simply because drilling PP7 rounds within those tight corridors was more alluring to me than any stage in any shooter before it. And my personal favourite GE memory was my first fight against Trevalyn, when I knocked him off the little balcony or whatever on Agent difficulty, only to be shot in the head right after by some guard on top. I fell off the platform, plunged to my deathly doom, and as I cursed the N64 before me, the screen before my very eyes miraculously shifted to a mission complete. And the funniest thing was, all thanks to that sniper knocking me off the ledge, I managed to finish the stage (after watching myself fall off the ledge in slow motion a dozen times) with exactly one second left to spare. I miraculously earned a pretty damn cool cheat from the stage, and if that ain't Santa Clause, rabbitattack, clutzy luck, I don't know what is...

And as much as I loved Goldeneye, it was somehow surpassed in my eyes by Perfect Dark. The single player campaign in PD  was simply amazing, despite the excessive slowdown. I couldn't wait to get my revenge on Mr. Blond in that game... it just sucked that you never could, since the final stages against the aliens were kind of pointless... And the thing was, all I wanted from Timesplitters 2 was something that hopefully could fill the void in my heart left after Rare departed for Microsoft. Although I am tempted to get a Xbox when Perfect Dark 0, Halo 2, and Doom 3 all come out for it, I needed something in the here and hilly now to fill that pointy, wooden stake or whatever hole in my heart. So I eagerly anticipated Timesplitters 2, couldn't wait to load up its new and "improved" single player missions, and when I finally did, what did I find out?... well, let's not give up probe... except...

The creators of the game simply did not care about the magic of single-player. Sure, the Chicago stage had a nice atmosphere, sure the Wild West stage had some cool music, and sure NeoTokyo was a nice reminder of Perfect Dark. But the majority of stages were a chore to chug through, both on the ridiculously easy Easy mode, and the insanely hard Normal mode. Because I'm sorry, I really am. Call me a wimp or something, but I simply do not want zombies in my FPS, and I don't necessarily want ugly aliens with mock UFO saucers either. Call me Mr. Columbine if you want, considering that massacre happened on my birthday, but I want damn people to shoot in a game. I want Trevalyn to shoot in the head. I want damn aliens disguised as Swedish men to snipe in the feet. I want damn Xenia to scope in the buttocks. And the thing is, despite its stupidly wide variety of stages, Timesplitters 2 simply does not deliver in this aspect. Siberia was littered with more stupid zombies than Soviet soldiers, and I ended up playing that stage with my speakers muted, simply because the stupid moans those monsters make was distracting my damn focus. I couldn't stand the Notre Dame stage, despite the cool music and decore, simply because everytime those stupid demons spawned in front of me out of nowhere, I'd just roll my eyes and sigh, "here we go again". The feeling I got playing the Aztec stage against those stupid Golems wasn't just probal fear or the usual sexual harassment I dearly hold near. It was a feeling of redundancy, of pure mundanity, of pure stupidity mocking my own stupidity. And despite the cool satireness of the Atom Smasher, I could not enjoy this stage, simply because the enemies were so damn annoying. Grenades here, mini-guns there, and bad guys popping out of boxes when you're not looking. Sure, the stage posed a challenge. It posed so much of a challenge that I got bored with in on the fifth or sixth try. Sure, I screamed in joy when I finally beat that stage on normal, but after looking at the clock and realizing the things I had to study, I realized that for just one stage, for just one damn stage, for just one damn unlockable character that I would probably never use, that time well wasted was... well... time not very well wasted...

Because simply put, in my eyes, the creators of Timesplitters 2 focused on the wrong things. They catered to the hardcore FPS fans, who brag about getting platinums in every arcade challenge and the cheats you unlock when you beat the game on hard. But not only do I not have time to unlock all the damn cheats in this game, I simply don't want to, and I simply don't have the skills to. Timesplitters 2 may be a brilliantly crafted work of art, but it's not the work of art that I felt I was promised. I wanted a game that would be fun right out of the box, and yet most of the cool modes in this game, from Assault Mode to Gladiator, couldn't be unlocked until I went through more than a dozen challenges. And although some challenges were decently amusing (I especially enjoyed the the duck hunt one with flying monkeys or something), they simply were not worth the effort. Sure, I want to unlock every character in the game, but after getting gold on almost every challenge up to Team Series B, I took a good look at myself and realized that I wasn't enjoying any of the crap I was doing. Goldeneye and Perfect Dark were perfect the way they came, giving my everything I wanted the moment I paid, except for a few multiplayer maps and sim types, which ended up being a real hassle to unlock (or actually, I think I cheated to get all the multiplayer cheats in PD... oops). But apparently, Free Radical listened a little too closely to all the fanatics who couldn't get enough of the challenges in PD, and gave us so much crap to unlock in TS2 simply for the sake of unlocking, while ignoring the core of the game we actually paid for. What I wanted was not a virus tag mode to play with my cousins. What I wanted was not a choice between playing a snowman or a massive duck in multiplayer. What I wanted was not a map maker at the sacrifice of angels and the sacrifice of brilliant, built-in maps like Temple and Stacks.

Instead, all I wanted for Christmas was an addicting single player campaign, one with weapons that I simply could not ignore, guns that I would simply refuse to put down, like the PP7 from Goldeneye, the Dragon and K7 from Perfect Dark, and even the machine gun thingy from Halo or some crap like that. Sure, the twin Tommy Guns are cool, but they simply weren't used enough in the single player stages. As nice as the double RCP90s or whatever are, I still haven't even found them in the single player campaign. Possibly the only thing that did make me irk and smirk was attaching sticky grenades to the sides of Star Wars: Episode 1 like idiot bots in the Robot Factory, although I still think the grenades in Halo were done a hell of a lot better. Simply put, since even the Soviet AR wasn't to my licking and liking, there simply is nothing for me to go back to in this game... and I know that sounds ludicrous, considering there's a hundred playable characters, a hundred challenges to play through, a hundred different ways to customize your multiplayer games, and even a hundred different ways to make your own map.

But the thing is, I don't give a damn about all these. They're not what I wanted. I got sick of mapmaking after Doom2. I got sick of modding back with Star Trek Armada. I got sick of shooting bots after playing through Perfect Dark. I got sick of fast paced deathmatches with Quake 3 and Unreal Tournament. And I got sick of double revolvers and homing missile launchers from God knows how many other games, from God knows how many other companies who simply could never replicate Rare's affinity for making weapons that just felt right. I mean, where's the ingenuity? Where's the originality? Where's my Laptop guns, and coherent plotlines, and a central character I actually care about? And most importantly, where's my damn N64 controller?! I friggin' hate the dual shock controls that we're stuck with now. The N64 controller was perfect, absolutely perfect, for FPSes with Turok controls. Even The World is Not Enough was more fun than the crap I get with Timesplitters 2 thanks to dual shock controls. So why the hell can't I plug in my damn N64 controller?! Instead, I'm stuck aiming with my right finger while screwing up with the left, and switching the damn control stick functions only made my synapses even more goddam confused. Although after 15 tries, that's 15 damn tries, using the damn C stick on that damn sniper challenge and failing miserably every time, I finally switched the controls over so I could aim with my left, N64 style, and hello Joe, what do you know? I scored silver on my first try... too bad I couldn't walk properly in single player that way... and goddammit, whoever invented dual shock controls (I'm talking to you, Sony) should burn in hell! It tastes like burning! The leprechaun tells me to burn things! The only problem is, it's too cold to be hell. No doot aboot it...

And I know I sound harsh, but please don't hang me, and don't get me wrong. I do love Timesplitters 2, even though I may sound especially testy today from my goddam failed computer exam... But the thing is, while David Doak and the lead programmers at Free Radical tried to incorporate everything they could into Timesplitters 2 so that nobody would be disappointed, the thing was, amongst all things... amongst all the trinkets, amongst all the gadgets, amongst all the widgets, and lighting, and fancy hairdos, and evil monkeys, and Scourge Splitters, and amongst even the complete rip-off of the Stargate gateway (my God, the Timesplitter portal thing even had spinning chevrons...)... amongst all the bells and whistles and endless action they embedded within this one fine game, they simply forgot one, small, somewhat important detail... or at least, a detail somewhat important to me...

They forgot the gameplay. Or more accurately, they forgot why lonely, no-name writers like me play FPSes like Goldeneye. Not to square off against faceless, nameless, anonymous opponents on the internet through Rogue Spear or Counterstrike. Not to master any insane jumping and aiming techniques in games like Quake 3. Not even to play multiplayer matches, when I have no-one around to play with, and where it feels so mindlessly redundant to keep killing bot after bot after bot with no real end, to no real end. So why the hell did I play Goldeneye? To simply pick my favourite stage, whip out my PP7, lay back and relax, and have some fun with bad guys I actually care about, and bad guys I can actually kill, whenever I feel like relieving stress and pressure and probes without a single thought. Sure, Timesplitters 2 had the odd moment like this or two, but for the price I paid, those flashes were far too, um, far and between... Because after a horrifying day like yesterday, after losing all my pride at school, the least I ever wanted, the last thing I ever wanted was to go home to a goddam game that had nothng to offer but to unlock its meat and potatoes and so-called fundamental fun through insanely difficult challenges with goddam, dual-shock controls... Right now, I've ended my unlocking spree at the first capture the briefcase challenge or whatever, and I expect my Timesplitters game to stay untouched for a rather long time, at least until a family get-together or something. Because simply put, without a single player campaign that truly makes me smile, without a memorable weapon that truly makes my fingers twitch, I'd rather get my ode to joy-joy from a decently indecent Angel episode instead. Or a Buffy probe. Or an Enterprise elope, where I can just lay back and enjoy the ride, without a single thought piercing my mind...

Hell, at one point, while getting gold on some arcade challenge, I quit the game and actually chose to do homework. I mean, I chose to do goddam homework over a goddam video game! That's how much brain power that damn unlocking crap was taking, and I didn't even know what I was goddam fighting for! And from my point of view, that can't be good for business. That can't be good for anyone. And that certainly isn't good news during a week like mine... not with probes sticking out of my ass. Not when I was the only one who didn't lie.

Thursday, November 7th, 2002

Y2kk Update: I didn't think I needed any help on Monday. I mean, it was just a stupid programming mid-term, and since when have I botched one of those things up?... although, um... I did sort of drop 15% after my programming final exam last year, simply because I was too lazy to learn that one definition needed for half the questions, but I digress... Because besides that, when have I ever needed help in programming? I mean, sure I was practically ready to tear off my shirt and go all apeshit, assclown, Incredible Hulk or something on my crappy programming assignment last week, but that was then. This is now. Because after completing the past mid-terms from the two previous 2nd years even without studying, I went into that exam room on Monday, confident that I'd still be confident when it was all said and done... and, well...

Despite my cocky nature when it comes to computers, I still sort of desperately sought out any sort of pious, superstitious symbol to curb that little doubt leftover in my mind... So I took a look in my wallet, saw my AMC ticket from watching Santa Clause 2 over the weekend, and made a silent wish upon that stub that please, oh please, Mr. Superman, that I would fare well in my little exam that very precious day... and, well...

Short story short, that test absolutely manhandled my sides, mangled my pride, and manslaughtered my confides, and in that retrospect, I don't exactly think my stupid ticket stub was exactly my lucky rabbit's foot for the day... But at least, it served as a symbol of something more important to me than school: eternal childhood innocence. Because while my memory of that programming exam is so damn, pitifully painful that I'll do almost anything to Vulcan nerve pinch repress it, luckily for me, I enjoyed The Santa Clause 2 a lot more than I thought I would... Now, don't get me wrong. I've always been a big fan of Tim Allen's. I didn't catch the latter seasons of Home Improvement, which at times seemed as bad as the latter Home Alones, but that's besides the point. Because I did enjoy Joe Somebody, simply because Allen had a lot of chemistry with that kung-fu teacher guy. And everyone who knows me knows that I absolutely adore Galaxy Quest. Hell, I've put that movie on my top 10 or 15 movies of all time list, partly because of Tim Allen, and mostly because I'm a huge anti-trekkie Trekker, but nevermind... And heck, I even liked Big Trouble, a movie I swore I'd never see after becoming desensitized by the trailer, a movie I ended up seeing just hours before leaving for the AMC theatre on Saturday. I couldn't help but snicker at Tim Allen's little Die Hard roles, first in the house equivalent of Nakatomi Plaza, and second during the reanactment of Die Hard's 2 little showdown on the plane. But the thing was, I never liked the original Santa Clause. I mean, I've always been a fan of Christmas movies. Hell, I even bought the Grinch Who Stole Christmas DVD in full screen... Full Screen! My God, Full Screen! I sacrified all in life that's sweet and holy, just to buy a damn movie I don't even like that much, but I digress... and anyhew, I've already partially pointed out how candidly I feel about the warmth and love of the Die Hard series... And yet somehow, seeing Tim Allen grow into a fat suit just didn't suit my tastes, and I was afraid that maybe, just maybe, that same bad luck would strike me twice and bolt me down the moment I held that ticket stub in hand...

But my final verdict? As I've already mentioned, I enjoyed the movie fruitfully, although the film is not without its glaring flaws. My favourite part of the film was undoubtedly the part where the fake, plastic, toy Santa tried hot cocoa for the first time and screamed out a bountiful, not so benevolent cheer. And upon seeing such a classic coca-cola moment, I was suddenly given a berth of hope that maybe, just maybe, this film would have an original idea about Christmas, rather than just falling back on the usual, casual, childhood mistrust and misforgivings of capitalist generals running the whole damn Enterprise show... and, well... Unfortunately, in this case, my original fears were justified. The movie did end up resulting in nothing more than a Freudian expression of oppressive, militant parents not spreading the holiday cheer... not to mention a classic coca-cola example of mechanization ruining and devaluing the skills of child labour in developing nations, but I digress... And suffice to say, I didn't like the ending of the Santa Clause 2 very much. I thought the big shot principle woman, even though her Spuffy hair was down (um, nevermind...), just didn't fit the role of a snowball thrower and a Mrs. Santa Clause in the end... not to mention that the end fight with the toy soldiers was rather anti-climatic to me, since I was surprised the principle wasn't smart enough to throw a damn rock or something, but that's besides the point... and, well... The marriage ceremony was as shallow as any I've seen from Las Vegas, and it sort of felt awkward how the principle, whatever her name was, stayed at her new home while Tim Allen delivered the presents. The very moment she glared, stared, and had an orgasm with that magical snowball shaky thing or whatever, was the moment she became a caricature of her former self, and reverted to being just another cliche Christmas character, like a Muppet who stole Christmas.

But the thing is, cliche Christmas characters are what Christmas movies are all about, aren't they? They're the best thing about the Christmas season. They make existence seem like a wonderful life, and to a great extent, I agree. Because as much as I loathed the ending, the principle woman did provide a catalyst role in my favourite, long scene in the movie as well. Somehow, I couldn't help but feel giddy with the school teachers when Tim Allen started handing out presents at the party. And after the romantic cheesiness of the sleigh ride down the street, seeing mature grown-ups shoving each other out of the way for antique toys off of e-bay was truly a sight to behold... I couldn't help but feel all nostalgic with the cast when I saw the infamous mouse trap game from the past, the baby doll that set the precedent for all dolls when I was young (um... not that I played with dolls, mind you... um...), and even I couldn't help but scream out a bountiful, not so benovelent cheer when I saw teachers making bets on that robot boxing thingy, whatever the hell it's called. And upon seeing the principle so tearfully happy after it was all said and done, asking about magic, and beginning to believe all over again, I couldn't help but start believing in Christmas myself... not that I never have, mind you... in Christmas movies, at least... Because although Santa Clause 2 can't top last year's Grinch or Family Man in my book, it did certainly have its moments. Although I could've done without a mechanized Santa in a general suit, I must admit that Tim Allen played the robed role well. Although Comet was more annoying to me than Jar Jar Binks, he certainly did make the audience laugh, and served as a good contrast against the good natured tooth fairy of legend. I liked the little neice girl always asking her uncle whether he was Santa Claus or not, sort of like how I kept thinking my bus driver was Jesus, but that's besides the point... And although I had hoped the romantic arc with the tweenie girl could've continued for Charlie (instead of diverting to some Oedipal jealousy over his replacement mother, the principle), I thought that the Santa secret troubling him was actually a good explanation as to why he was acting up (although stunning, flawless grafitti was kind of a little too extreme in his case). The psychiatrist guy was absolutely a pain in the ass from my point of view, but he did serve his purpose, causing Tim Allen to beat himself in the head with a file cabinet, aptly proving that being Santa hasn't changed the Tim Taylor we've always known and loved (sniff sniff... reminds me of my locker days... nevermind...). And Tim Allen himself was brilliant all the way, being stern with his son while being so kind and gentle with that little girl, Pam or Spam, whatever her name was, the moment her powerpuff self waltzed up.

In the end, all that really matters about a Christmas flick is simply one thing: does the film make you happy? Does the film make you feel innocent? Does the film make you feel like a kid all over again?... and truth be told, I did feel a little bit of cheer in the pits of my gut when the final credits rolled. And I admit, for quite a while actually, this film made me forget all about my worries, conspiracies, and paranoid delusions in life, and thanks to that alone, I know in my heart that this movie was a success, at least in my eggnog eyes... then again, thanks to that Mentos freshness I got from this film, I neglected studying for my computer mid-term until the damn exam was right on top of me... and, well... goddammit... damn ticket stub... Burn in hell, you damn ticket stub! Spread the holiday cheer, and burn in hell!... and, well... okay, I'll calm down now... nevermind... I have no idea what I'm saying...

Anyhew, when it comes to TV, the holiday cheer is rampant all about come the first day of November, and already I'm starting to grow a smile on my face. It's November sweeps time, when TV just can't be beat until possibly the final arcs of the entire season come to play. And truth be told, I adored this week's episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, "Him". Simply put, besides the final scene of the season opener, and besides maybe Anya's little song from two weeks ago, nothing truly memorable has happened yet this season. And that's why I enjoyed "Him" so much. Somehow, the comedy in this one episode alone stands a cut above the rest in my easily impressionably mind. And the thing is, I attribute this telly cheer of mine to the fact that it is November sweep time, and strangely enough, that same reason alone is being used on the forums as the excuse, as the measure of a man, as to why this week's episode was not a good episode... In their eyes, November sweeps is all about one thing: angst, and crappy "ship"... and okay, that was two things. Two words then: so sue me... nevermind...

We've all know major angst is coming soon, since Spike has been silent for too long, and with the Big Bad of the season getting restless after laying dormant since the season opener. But because forums posters are all about what a show and its arcs "should" be like rather than what it actually is, I've read a lot of complaints this week that "Him" simply was proof that Joss Whedon has absolutely lost it. Not only did they complain that the story was a rehash of Xander's little love spell (which the writers candidly represented with the "Ah, good times" reference in the episode), but I must've read at least a dozen flames, all complaining that for a November sweeps episode, the characters were all so flat. Apparently, there's petitions going around right now, demanding that the writers explain why they didn't make the Scoobies react whatsoever to Spike getting a soul. After Buffy cried her eyes out in the second episode of the season, absolutely nothing has happened with the Spike arc, and certain viewers are ready to march on Washington about this. They had all hoped that maybe Buffy hadn't told anyone about her finding of the soul, and that maybe she simply isn't reacting to it all because she's still scared and scarred from the rape thingy or whatever. But in "Him", we all learned that Dawn and Xander have been told that Spike has a soul, and quite frankly, it didn't even make a bleep on their radar.

And although to an extent, I agree with the flamers, that maybe it would be interesting to see Xander compare his double standards of loving Anya and hating Spike, maybe it would be interesting to see Willow side with Spike about evil reformation, and maybe it would be interesting to see Dawn condemn them all, only to find herself an evil ball of, um, evil one day as well... But the thing is, contemplating good and evil was the theme of last year, when the line between human and demon was finally crossed (I was getting sick of demons not having human rights), so everything the viewers want has become old news to the writers. The theme of this season is to get back to the beginning, and thank God that that's exactly what "Him" has accomplished. It was a fun filled episode, perhaps the best since the Zeppo, filled with little reminders of Buffy's seasons 1 and 2 past. I couldn't get enough of Buffy holding a Bazooka to kill Principle Wood. It was a bit too much overkill, I'm afraid, but a nice reminder of the time Xander stole the Bazooka back in season 2, when Spike was evil and trying to end the world. And come on, who amongst the non-Leoff-spoiled didn't laugh when to the sound of elevator music, Spike jumped at Bazooka Buffy in the background, only to scoot away with the thing with Buffy close behind?... And my second favourite scene of the episode? When Xander and Spike had their master "plan" to steal RJ's lovefest jacket. It was classic season 2 writing there: the two talked as if they had something complicated in mind, and then simply ran off with the jacket like hoodlum boys before RJ even knew what happened... And my third favourite moment of the episode? Simply the way Sarah Michelle Gellar acted throughout the whole episode. I couldn't help but find her hair damn attractive in the Bronze, where she had her Goldie Hawn look or whatever you call it hairstyle for the first time since season 3. And goddammit, I couldn't help but get turned on when Buffy was eyeing RJ in slow motion, twirling her hair and watering her lips...

And honestly, who couldn't laugh at the sheer, blatant, ridiculous nature of her sofa talk with Dawn, when she blamed her sister for concocting elaborate fantasies with her lover? I mean, why oh why can't Sarah please talk about me that way? I mean honestly, who throws a shoe? I'll thrown mine, if she throws hers, because this episode truly was a back to the beginning for me, all the way back to the second season, when the only reason I kept on watching was to see how cute Buffy would be the following week... And truth be told, I admired mostly everything about this episode. From the sappy music in slow-motion, to Buffy pulling a Ms. Robinson on RJ, it all just somehow made sense. It just all somehow made me feel so... I don't know what exactly, but so... Christmas like... I mean, Sarah felt like giving, and as Xander would say, "Daddy like"... and this is all coming from a guy who watched this episode only hours after I probably failed that computer mid-term of mine. Now, if only I had my back to the beginning Buffy getting on my back everytime I'm in need of a bit of holiday cheer. Then, um... actually, that doesn't sound exactly right, but... um, nevermind...

But while certain forums pulled an anti-IvanF and hated "Him", I've so far only found positive responses on this week's Enterprise episode, "The Seventh". Simply put, it was an admired by the critics as a true November sweeps episode. It was angsty, emotional, and supposedly suspenseful. But for me? For me? I can barely remember anything from the episode anymore. But as always, there were certain things that I did like. I thought T'Pol had her best characterization since Fusion (since Carbon Creek doesn't exactly count), when her emotional immune system starting breaking down from guilt. I admired her acting when she franctically opened up all the empty injector casings or whatever they were called on Menos' ship, although I kept screaming at how stupid she was for looking for the bio-crap in just the most obvious of places. I mean, c'mon! Maybe Vulcans are just more naive and dumbwitted than I thought, but honestly, after all those years of security training, she didn't once predict that maybe Menos' had decent ways to hide the goods, Al Capone style, to live long and prosper this long? And personally, although it's nice to see her trust Captain Archer and see him as an equal, it was just a little too painful how much he actually needed her. Because although I admit, the ending was a bit suspenseful (I didn't know whether she would let Menos go or not), didn't she learn anything from her training, that it's not up to a soldier to decide between innoncence and guilt, but rather to just shut up and shoot? I guess when it comes to emotional distress, she really is a damsel in distress (unless she kicks high in a Rambo... nevermind...), and I guess that's all good and cheery for her characterization, but... it was simply too angsty for me... Instead, I actually enjoyed the Trip moments a lot more. Even though it was short and brief, I couldn't help but cherish his pretentious moment with the Vulcan captain. And as for captains, I thought that Scott Bakula played his role well. He wasn't so naive in the Catina bar, and he was smart enough to duck for cover and not ask questions when Menos, Mr. Greedo, shot first. Although it was a partial pain to see Archer rubbing T'Pol's emotions in her face with jokes at the end rather than actually try to be serious, Archer truly did seem like a warrior this episode, a true Moby Dick, sturdy captain, like the "seventh" on a Jem'Hadar attackship or some crap like that. I mean honestly, he actually didn't sound intermittingly confused for once.

Instead, T'Pol was the one confused this time, all thanks to Menos, as Bruce Davison played the role to near perfection. Although the criminal who plays on his catcher's guilt has been played to death on the movie screen, the intriguing twist of Menos being a Vulcan actually took me a long time to finally accept. Without the ears, without the logic, he simply felt like an alien to me, and it was kind of cool, actually... it really, really, ridiculously brought some stuff about modern terrorism, CIA inflitration, and Alias crap like that in perspective... or maybe not... Because simply put, as I've stated before, this episode was simply too linear for me, simply too angsty and flatly emotional for me, to ever consider it memorable. Without a Bazooka Joe of the Jungle running around, playing with her hair as she quiply dreams of her lover (although I sort of implied a "he" in this sentence, didn't I?... oh, nevermind... I'll just pretend there's more girl Joe's than guys...), I simply cannot consider this week's Enterprise episode as the next coming of  Galaxy Quest. I simply did not get the same adoring feeling as I do watching Spike spin around angel statuettes, or hearing the Saturday Night woman in Santa Clause 2 singing some Shania Twain in a restaurant of some sorts... Simpy put, Enterprise didn't make me feel like Christmas. It didn't make me feel like a child again. And with so many damn tests and mid-terms bearing down my back, all the way back to beginning, I think I've got enough of my own angst rather than watch it on screen, thank you very much... unless it involves T'Pol and Buffy catfighting on a coffee table, although, um... nevermind... if only I had a forum follower, what I said would've been sooooo last week, with a God Bless Us, Everyone...

[c. visitors too bored to return...]