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Wednesday, September 25th, 2002

Y2kk Update: Well, what do you know? I've spent the past week terrified of the next seven days, simply because I'll have two major tests and three major assignments all due within a few days of each other... I was fretting and frothing over this little issue of mine all throughout the circuit laboratory I had today, where I was more preoccupied with the inevitable write up of the laboratory session moreso than the actual lab itself... But lo and behold, although I'll kick myself in the gutter if I'm wrong about this, after I left that lab room, I heard from my friends that there shall not be any lab write ups to hand in for this entire bloody course. And, well... what?... Short story short, I was cowering in the laboratory room from the mere thought of having to write twnety damn pages worth of crap based on the circuit crap I was doing, when actually in reality, all the fear and phantoms were just in my head. Now, um... I had literally worked just ten minutes on this stupid laboratory (I copied and forged just about everything else I had to do) besides the actual handiwork, and my friend was telling me that the 90% that the TA gave me was my final mark for the entire lab?... and, um... now, um... wow... That's all I could say, because all I can say is wow. I got an A on a lab worth 5% of final mark without even noticing it, and without even breaking a sweat... And what do you know? I guess it does feel real good to be lucky... or to be dumb enough to have wrong yet great expectations...

And what do you know? You should've seen the light on my face when I turned on the television the other week, flipped the channel to my favourite sci-fi hour of the week, and lo and behold, the season premiere of Star Trek Enterprise was just beginning before my very eyes... I'd forgotten to check the internet when the new season would finally start, and even though the episode itself was somewhat lacking, I still could not contain my momentous glee the moment I heard that oh so familiar "Faith in the Heart" sweet melody, melancholy play... But alas, Shockwave Part 2 just couldn't meet my expectations. Hell, the critics are right when they say no second parter to a Star Trek cliffhanger, not even the legendary Best of Both Worlds Part 2, has ever lived up to its first parter's standards. This rule held true for Redemption, this rule held true for All Good Things, this rule held true for What You Leave Behind, for Scorpion, for Endgame, and in some sense, it even held true for the amazing Sacrifice of Angels, where the largest battle in the history of Trek took place. If there was any exception to this rule of thumb, it was Way of the Warrior, where the final battle with the Klingons absolutely outshine everything that came before it, but I digress... What I'm trying to say, is that Shockwave Part 1 ended with a millennial bang, a nail-biting premise: the timeline had been destroyed, yet there were no time portals left to fix it. And unfortunately, the writers just couldn't resolve the story in an entirely believable and satisfactory way in just one hour, so they succame to the almighty temptation and used the cheat sheet of time paradoxes to change back the future.

And what do you know? Even though I couldn't stand how Daniels (and the writers) refused to answer such questions as, if the time portals never existed in the new timeline, how could Daniels transport Archer to the future in the old timeline? Daniels never answered any of the chicken and the egg problems, and neither did the rest of the episode. Instead of a philosophical think tank of a thinker, we got an action story with a very basic premise: Archer has a plan, and everyone implements it. Sure, I enjoyed T'pol's comment about Archer being on the ceiling, but I still couldn't enjoy how easy it was for Daniels to not only to build a time communicator, but also sync the communcation to the same day Archer was taken, and find a way to use Silik's time communcation device against him. Sure, I thought Reed put on a good act while getting tortured, but it pained me to see how gullible Silik was when it came to the lieutenant's story. And sure, I thought T'Pol did a pretty good job acting, even though her shivering in the washroom did look a bit contrived. But what about the rest of the crew? Dr. Phlox had no more than a line or two, Mayweather was simply there for the sake of being there, and even Trip had very few lines until his infamous speech at the end (although using doorbells for communication was a stroke of cowboy genius). And sure, I thought the space battle at the end was well orchestrated (although I thought it was a little too convenient that Trip could fake a warp core breach), but there was never any real, serious threat that the Enterprise would be destroyed... unless there was a huge time reset button to be pushed and prodded, but I digress...  And yes, sure I found Trip's "you're pathetic!" speech at the end oh so enlightening, but the whole scene felt rushed, except for that awful Captain Kirk impression done by Archer and his Gazelle story... But I do have to admit, although Shockwave 2 was not exactly shocking, it was still rather entertaining. I loved Archer's dropkick to Silik, I'll state that the faked warp core breach did look real cool, and I'll even sadly admit that I was giggling in glee quite a giddy bit at Hoshi panting and sweating in her panties from the EPS shafts, although the joke where she lost her tank top sort of fell flat on its face for me... Nevertheless, my principle still stands, that although Shockwave Part 2 could not live up to the hype in my mind, it was still a thoroughly enjoyable episode. And after watching Carbon Creek today, I must admit that Season 2 of Enterprise seems to be shaping up to be one of the best Trek seasons on my list of all time favourites, but I'll leave that mini-review for next week, provided I still have time in the midst of tests and assignments...

And what do you know? Just when I thought life couldn't get luckier, I turned on the tele last night and what did I find, but the season premiere of Buffy the Vampire Slayer? Now, short story short, I found this episode to be both a welcome change of pace, and a dreaded return to the past. I won't write it here, but something happened yesterday that truly reminds me of the drudgery and the depression I endured through my high school corporeal existence. I suffered a lot of collateral damage back then, and my pent up, mummified angst definitely wasn't helped out by the return of Sunnydale High. Simply put, that school looks friggin' huge and amazing, and a hell of a lot more expensive to build than even my university. The thing was, well... those camera angles in the hallways... that eerie sensation I got when Dawn was introducing herself to the rest of the class... It all made me completely concur with Buffy, that Dawn should be expelled from high school for her own good, simply because that place definitely was giving me the creeps, talisman or no talisman (although there's always a talisman... nevermind...). The school itself may not remind me of my own high school that much, but just seeing those familiar walls and "matured girls" from long past Buffy episodes just reminded me too damn much of my old nemesis-ees and my old crushes, who loved Buffy when it was "Becoming" the biggest sensation on the block... but anyhew, I digress...

Because what do you know, Josh Whedon truly did bring back the wonders of his world by bringing back a lot of the good aspects of old school Buffy. I actually did snicker in delight at the sound of the vampire who couldn't help but get stuck on a root... I thought the Anya scene where she does girl talk with Halfrek was rather innocently done, and even Willow's scene at Anthony Stewart's house or whatnot was rather tranquil and pleasant to the naked eye (although the Paraguay flower was done absolutely horridly in cgi). And to be honest, my favourite part of the episode was the very end, where the new Big Bad of the show showed its true power when not only did it shapeshift into all the big bads of previous seasons (thus highlighting that it has power over them), but it also conjured their true to life personalities as well. Although I thought it was pointless for Warren to be mimicked (since he really did nothing but kill Tara, bully around Jonathan and the other guy, and get his balls of steel crushed by Buffy), I did love his "sugar and spice" and "unless you're baking" line. I was never very fond of Glory, and her lines didn't make me feel otherwise, but I smiled in delight at the short stinted return of Adam, and the return of such godly, nerd phrases as "within parameters" and "number 17"... sniff sniff, those were the glory days of Adam, no pun intended... And who can forget the Mayor, possibly the best villain ever told? Even his one and only personality came back without a hitch, and he almost convinced me with his hysterical laughter that maybe I too should sell my greasly soul... Druscilla's still around, so I won't comment there, but even though I missed out on the first season of Buffy, I must admit that the Master Vampire worked wonders in his return sequence. Because the theme of this season is "back to the beginning", and the theme of my life has been that it's not about "right or wrong"; it's about "power"... and, well,  the meshing of nostalgia with a philosophy I still believe is true to this day somehow made my bones quiver in joy... almost as much as seeing T'Pol in silk pyjamas, and seeing Buffy in a tight white shirt again with flockful "mom" hair, but I digress...

I am definitely looking forward to this season of Buffy, since I know it might be its last, and that every last stop will be pulled out at... um, last... And I am definitely looking forward to the new season of Enterprise, simply because as soon as I heard the name of the "Romulan Star Empire", I knew good things would come... And, well, what do you know? Even in the midst of mounds of homework, these two shows still managed to amuse and muse me enough to write a horribly worded, Y2kk lengthed, no-name update, just like I did all summer long. And, well, that deserves to be applauded. That deserves to be imploded, simply because it all sounds like so much fun, doesn't it? To feel lucky, I mean... or to be dumb enough not to know when your favourite shows are starting up again, but that's besides the point...

Wednesday, September 11th, 2002

Y2kk Update: A year has passed. A year has passed to the day, to the day that the world claimed it stood still... And to be honest, I'm kind of shamed actually. Shamed on my behalf, at least... Because truth be told, just as predicated, that lest I forget, I have forgotten. I have all but forgotten the terror that swept through the nations and swept through my spine just one year ago, and to be honest, such personal, perverted swine simply sickens my stomach. I prayed a year ago that I would never forget. I prayed a year ago that I would learn from the experience, and change my ways as the world changed theirs. But alas, even the hourglass is forced to follow the laws of men, for I have all but forgotten. I begged my conscience to never let me forget; if only the attack on America could be confined in my head as the only real fear I've ever dearly, nearly, knelly felt. But just as I had predicted, just as I had feared, life went on with barely a hitch. It only took days, maybe weeks at most for 9/11 to start fading out of mind, fading out of life, and start fading out into the purgatory of spiritual shadows. And before I knew it, it was almost as if it had never happened. It was almost as if I had never cared, that all debts had been paid, and it sickens me to the bone that I have suppressed, that I have finally regressed such a monstrosity, such an atrocity, such animosity, and such an act of honourless hostility... But if there is any consolation, if there is any hope for the race that I call IvanF, it's that every time I pick up the newspapers I've saved, and witness the destruction of the World Trade Towers and all its people all over again, I still shudder from the cold. I still shiver in the shadows. And I still shake and take shelter from perhaps the only real fear I've ever truly known... that of death... the stench of death... or that of dried out newspapers, but that's besides the point... And oh, how forceful and fradulant it is to forge the names of the three thousand innocent lives long lost and forgotten in the fragile fog of war, lest we ever forget... The world has not changed since then. Not since one year ago. Not since the world claimed that it stood still.

Or, well... um, don't mind that rhetorical, depressing rant up above. I was trying to find some sort of way to pay homage to last year's 9/11 updates, and just couldn't figure out a way to forge a decent, factual fakery. In truth, I still wish I cared and do care about the people who died, or the people who cried, or even the people that lied about the justice and unjustice of the laws of the state, but alas, it is only a wish. Because if I did actually care, would I have gone to so many movies during the summer, lest I forget?... And, well, I saw my last movie of the official summer the other week. And I guess I sort of lied up above, because the world has changed just a tiny bit since September 11th, or at least the focus of Hollywood productions have. If you haven't noticed, practically every major film this year has been based upon paternal relationships, most notably that of the father and son. From Blade 2, to Road to Perdition, to Minority Report, to even Austin Powers: Goldmember, the relationship between the father and son has been the central focus of each and every movie, and why? I'm not really sure why, but you can bet your summer ass that it has something to do with how the public pubically changed from the aftermath of September 11th... People demanded 'thinking' movies, not popcorn flicks. And because Hollywood is all about noticing trends and capitalizing on them, it somehow managed to miraculously merge both.

I saw City by the Sea the other day, a film that devoted its entire advertising campaign to that of its father/son conflict, and to be honest, I was not impressed. Simply put, I was bored throughout most of the movie. And sure, there were some redeeming moments. I was absolutely dazzled and surprised when Robert DeNiro actually made me care with his speech about second changes. I even began to get worried when his son started speaking of "suicide by cop". But overall, the movie simply went by too slowly for me, and I think I know why... I blame it on the advertising. I thought the movie was supposing to be a mystery flick, where we don't know who the killer of the cop truly is. But in the end, it was just another paternal providence film to add to the far too over-full, cliche collection plate as the donation of the day. Instead of getting the Usual Suspects (although I didn't like that film either), I got an overdose of a morbid, suburban angst movie that simply felt as genuinely lengthy and utterly painful as a Y2kk Update by yours truly. I thought the movie would be based on whether the son killed the cop or not, but by the final third of the movie when this pivotal act finally did take place, I was already stargazing at the colours on my watch and wondering to myself, when the hell is this movie going to end?... just like I'm sure you're thinking, when the hell is this update going to end, hoping that you'll forget all about what I said in no time flat...

Sure, I thought some of the acting was great. Although the daughter kind of overdid it, I did love the reaction of the wife to her husband's death. And the talk between the ex-wife and Robert DeNiro actually hit home with me on a few loose screws, but I won't talk about that... But I simply felt no love for the characters. I didn't care that Spyder, Mr. Alcatraz or whatever Rock gone bad, was chasing the son. I didn't care DeNiro lost his girlfriend. I simply could not care for anything in this movie, because it was just a solemn, sober, excruitingly painful, drawn-out movie about how the bond of blood runs thicker than, um, blood... And yes, there were some parts of the movie that I deemed creative. I personally found the vicious cycle of parental ineptitude and lack of moral fortitude, passed on through generation and generation, as anything less than degenerate. Hell, I even laughed at the "killer gene" headline found in the film... But the humour in the film was simply too far and between. Hell, every decent part of the film was simply too far and between. And by the end, I hate to say this, but City by the Sea was a perfect example of its own city by the sea... as a forgotten wasteland, once so full of life and potential, yet reduced to the level of dirt and dump by its undying desire to simply make a drastic statement... Was it in some way trying to make a statement about September 11th? I simply do not know. But like I hate to admit about 9/11, I simply do not care about the message in City by the Sea. And just like I loathe myself for as I mentioned above, I simply cannot help but repress and suppress this entire movie into the suburban drudgery of purgatory's shadow... Hell, I can already barely remember a thing from the movie and it's only been a damn week, lest I forget...

And since I have no clue whether I'll be making another no-name update anytime soon, considering the Tuxedo and the new fall season of shows won't be appearing for quite some time, I might as well waste some more valuable webspace and write about the little sidedish of a game I got in Luigi's Mansion. After renting the game, nearly beating it in a day, and then leaving the saved game to rest in memory card peace for two or three months, I've finally beaten Luigi's first ever game as a solo star, with a B rating at the end no less (unless you count Mario is Missing as Luigi's first official game, but that's besides the frozen hell point). And simply put, although many on the internet call Luigi's Mansion a mockery of the Mario series, as a game better lost and forgotten than ever played or remembered, to these cynical critics, I take off my Mario cap and both promptly and articulately say, what the hell have you been smoking? Sure, Luigi's Mansion was short. It only took about two days of playing to get through the whole game. And sure the action is repetitive, considering Miyamoto claimed there was more to the game than just vacuuming and blow-jobbing, when really that was about it. But the thing is, doesn't anyone cherish lovable and enjoyable games these days? It really seems like the mass public wants video games to become the next movie industry, because Luigi's Mansion is nothing short than, um, short and sweet. It's repetitive gameplay is ridiculously addictive, just like 2d platform games were back in their day. Those games were simple, weren't they? They never had deep plotlines, or cliche romantic storylines, or any of the Hollywood crap you see in the most revered, 'mature' games of today. But Luigi's Mansion and Mario Sunshine both represent to me a bygone era of games, where the fun factor meant so much more than the graphics and storyline, simply because there were, um, no games at the time with better graphics and anywhere near decent storylines... Yup. Back then, I was colour blind. I couldn't see a single difference between the plot of Megaman and Dragon Warrior 3. All I could see was the gameplay, about being unable to ever put that controller down, and that's all I remember with Luigi's Mansion.

Of course, there's some major flaws with the game as well. Would I have bought the game for $70CAN at the Gamecube launch? Probably not, considering I would've only played through the game two or three times. The variety of ghosts all seemed original at first, but by the end of the game, they all seemed identically the same. In short, I still admit that the game was far too short, but it was still a fun filled masterpiece for what it was meant to do. Sure, the graphics seem simplistic and shady compared to this day and age, but back then, I was completely wowed by just the glare of the flashlight. I remember at E3 2001, before the Gamecube was released, how much in awe I was at the simpl, spectacle of dust glittering through the eye of the flashlight. It was an amazing sight back then, and even after playing through Mario Sunshine, I still get mesmerized at times by the animation and lighting in Luigi's Mansion. And I do admit, the sounds are rather lacking in the game, and there definitely isn't a large selection of music. But the music that was supplied eventually did get into my subconscious, and even I started humming the same tune at school as Luigi does throughout the whole game... Is Luigi's Mansion a perfect game? No. Far be it, no. But it definitely has a cherished, reserved spot in my special, snuggly, Nintendo collection. Will I remember this game five years down the road? Probably not, although it's doubtful that I'll remember anything from even now one year down the road.

Truth be told, I breezed by Luigi's Mansion and haven't really thought of it since. Sure, I still love the game, but I do admit it pales in comparison to the more recent Super Mario Sunshine... I've pretty much blocked City by the Sea from my mind. I saw the movie, I slept through the movie, and quite honestly, I haven't thought of it since. Not until this no-name update, where I wrote about the movie simply because I so wispfully and wishfully wanted to avoid my homework... And truth be told, I should be bashing myself in the head for not thinking of September 11th until this very anniversary day had come. I never once gave its moment of silence a, um, moment of silence... I never once bothered to put away my little military talk of Afghanistan and Iraq to even bother to remember, that I condemned smart ass people like me just one year ago to this day. I haven't just forgotten about the lives that are nought, or the fires that they fought, or the battles that were brought, or the war that was wrought. I've also forgotten about who I am, or who I was the day freedom was attacked. I forgot what I said, of what I believed, of what I hated myself for believing. I committed the gravest and most gravimetric of sins of the IvanFian Ten Commandments; that I forgot the simple fact that I should never forget... And I'm ashamed. Ashamed of myself, and shamed on my behalf, to be honest. For truth be told, just as predicted, I have forgotten. A year has passed. Though I prayed I would never forget, a damn year has passed, lest we forget...

Wednesday, September 4th, 2002

Y2kk Update: Great, just Peter the great... dandy... peachy... just perfect, even. Today's the last day of the summer of IvanF. After today, there's no going  back, because I'm going back. Back to school. Back to that hellhole, that evil sell-your-soul-for-a-donut thingy, known only as school. And sure, normally university students can't wait to shake of the drab and derivative dreary of the dribble of summer months, but hell, they don't go to my university... And after going through first year engineering at my university, all I want is just a few more days of freedom... or at least, what I want, is to know that I'll do well, and come out unscathed, unharmed, and hopefully unchanged... But alas, even the hourglass is forced to follow the laws of stupidity, since I completely screwed everything up last year, and I'm sure I'll kick myself in the face this year for every little thing I'll inevitably mess up. And, well... It's going to be a kick-ass ride, and a kick-ass year, although not in any way I'd consider good... not when it's my whore of an ass on the line, or online... and, well, I just hope I don't end up as a kiss-ass by the end of the term...

But oh well, AOL, at least I can say my summer went out with some sort of bang, or at least a whimper, considering I never got the chance to bang... nevermind... Anyhew, I can't believe I forgot to write this on my Tweakui site, but nevertheless, I'll write it here, that a hallmark - nay, a landmark in the life of IvanF just happened the other week. I was sitting in a theatre in downtown Toronto, idly waiting for One Hour Photo to engage, appear on screen, and warp my impressionable mind. And while my friend was poking fun at some of the sci-fi shows I watch (most notably Stargate, I do believe), I took a moment to make it so and move to the seat next to mine (since the theatre was so damn devoid of human life)... And as I sat down for the second time in my second Spock of a spot, whom did I see sitting in the aisle directly before me?... It's kind of ironic actually. Just the other day, my friend had asked me which Star Trek actress I found most desirable, and I honestly claimed that only Nicole DeBoer, who played Ezri Dax in Season 7 of Deep Space 9, was the only woman who ever did anything to my breathing lungs, my beating heart, and my, um... beady scrotum... Anyhew, there was just something about her honesty, something just pervasive and persuasive about her girl-next-door voice, that made me ever so dream of seeing her one day, just one day, live and fully materialized in person...

And lo and behold, I guess there is a God... or at least an omnipotent creature called Colonel Simmons Q,  because I could not believe my very eyes when they shone upon the very actress, the glory-be star, and the only Star Trek girl I've ever wished to lay eyes upon... and God, or Q, or R, I will never wash these eyes again... And yeah, I know she's a normal person with a normal life, so to speak, but I still was ready to freak out when I saw Nicole DeBoer just sitting a few seats away from me. And at first, well... I couldn't really tell or make out that it was her... I mean, she had her trademark mole (or at least, I think she's supposed to have a trademark mole), her hair style was about the same, her height was about the same, and I could tell from her adorable cheekbones that she was indeed the Ezri Dax that had nostalgic sex with Worf and ended in bed together with Julian Bashir for no apparent reason... There was just one problem. She looked old in person. Not her face nor body, but rather her eyes. She looked too tired, too faded to be my dear Ezri, and that's when I started having doubts it was her...

And ironically enough, even though my friend had no clue who she was, he synchronically decided then and there to start mocking and making fun of my love for Star Trek Enterprise. And my God, I guess you had to be there, but it was honestly so damn funny to me... I forget why, but I started ranting off the names of Star Trek characters I loved throughout the ages. I pointed out Picard, and Data, and Deanna Troi. I noted the Voyager Doctor, and Seven of Nine, and even her really-poorly done romance with the Star Trek hating Chakotay. And I was all set to rave and save the best for last, to name my favourite Deep Space 9 characters when it was all said and done, just to see the look of disdain on her face when I lace the icing on her Quark of a cake... But when I got back to the topic of Enterprise, as I named off the actors who played Charles Trip Tucker and the Vulcan Catwoman T'Pol, I just magically got stumped and stuck on the most unlikely of names... Since I still had Ezri sugar plums and symbiots dancing in my head, I just couldn't concentrate, and as a Trekkie, it was so damn embarrassing that I couldn't remember the damn name of the actor that plays Captain Jonathan Archer... and actually, I can't remember his name now either, but that's besides the point... Because all that matters (or anti-matters...), is that my friend couldn't stop laughing at my no-name confusion, and I couldn't help but keep reciting out loud, over and over again, the chorus and incantation of 'what the hell is Jonathan Archer's name? What the hell is Jonathan Archer's name?'

And that's when the golden moment struck, like a bolt of lightning or a particle fountain in the depths of space... It was then and there, that whoever was in front of me, and whomever friend she was with, overhead my conversation, and stopped dead in their tracks. I literally mean it when I say whoever was in front of me heard me talk about Jonathan Archer, and literally ceased moving, ceased talking, and ceased existing, and simply hawked at me with a stern look in the corner of her eye... heh... It was her. I was sure of it. I was sure, then and there, that it was her. It was her, Canadian actress Nicole DeBoer, in the flesh... although not with as much visible flesh as I'd always hoped, but that's besides the point... And I was almost ready to smile at her, wink in her direction just to let her know I knew who she was, but I soon realized that simply put, there would be no fun in that. I could see in her eyes that I had her by the supple and nipple reins. She was being cautious and wary, simply because she did not know whether I recognized her or not... She was making sure. She was making sure she was left deep in the dark, and I was more than obliged to be the gentleman and let her play at her own game. Instead of confronting her, I just kept ranting and raving on about Enterprise, and eventually did remember Archer's actor's name (although I couldn't remember Nicole's name, but that's besides the powerpoint...). And after five more minutes of pointless Star Trek ravings and ramblings with my friend, Nicole and her friend still didn't say a word. They simply sat there, side by side, silent as if they thought the first moment they moved, that I would see them, like a T-Rex stalking its prey, or a Romulan Warbird cloaked at warp being scanned by a Jem'Hadar polaron beam... and oooh... oh, baby... or, um, nevermind...

But anyhew, the whole ordeal was simply ridiculously funny to me, actually. I know she's used to obsessive Trekkies like me at conventions, swarming her from all sides, but I kept wondering to myself, was she used to this? Was she used to the abuse of not being acknowledged, or worse yet, not being known?... and I know, I know, I'm giving myself too much credit. I'm sure my actions didn't even register on her tachyon scanners as a bleep... but still, I did see something fierce in her eyes, especially at that one point when she turned at me and my friend, simply because she couldn't stand how I was poking fun at the frivolous fruit displays frescoed on the film screen... heh... I think she knew I was annoying her on purpose, but that's besides the point... Now, I completely admit that perhaps this woman wasn't Nicole DeBoer. Perhaps she and her friend were simply silent because I was too damn obnoxious and loud. But honestly, I shit you not when I say that the joy I felt the moment I saw panic and fear in her stargazing eyes, was perhaps the greatest reason why I couldn't help but giggle and smile throughout the entire screening of One Hour Photo. If it wasn't for the fulfillment of my fruitful dream, of meeting Ezri Dax eye to eye, face to irritated face, I don't know if I would've enjoyed the glorious, uncle of a film as much as I did... I know I may sound real immature when I say this, but since I've never knowingly gone within five feet of a star I actually adore, I've just got to admit that, well... heh... it was a hell of a lot of fun to annoy her... and okay, so that did sound immature. So sue me... or wait, um, maybe she will... she has the money, afterall...

... goddammit, Powell... um, nevermind...

Anyhew, besides that star struck, Star Trek encounter at Farpoint of mine, nothing much since has happened in my life. I've spent the last week or so with Super Mario Sunshine in my face, and after beating the game with 82 Shines, and after finally putting down the Gamecube controller when I hit 102 Shines this morning, I guess I'm finally ready to submit my no-name review. Simply put, although it may only have taken me about 15 to 20 hours from start to finish, I can honestly say that I've never been this involved in a game since Perfect Dark, or dare I say it, even Zelda 64: Ocarina of Time, the best game ever made, period. And quite honestly, I feel as if Super Mario Sunshine is the funnest game I've ever played since even my Super NES days, and that says a hell of a lot coming from me... I've always been a Mario fan, although I haven't always been a fan of the plumber's games. Although I enjoyed the original Mario Bros, I didn't fall in love with the series until I got Super Mario Bros. 2 for my birthday. I was never a fan of Mario 3, since I couldn't understand why gamers would choose Koopa Kids and Airships over such classic baddies as Shy Guys and Birdo, but I did fall in love with Super Mario World, and I personally couldn't put down Super Mario World 2: Yoshi's Island until I had literally gotten 100% in every single stage. Unfortunately, my love for old school Mario just couldn't transfer over to the N64 (although I did love Paper Mario almost as much as Mario RPG), and I ended up loathing Mario 64 for really no good reason. Perhaps it was simply that I was against 3d games at the time, but I couldn't help shake the fact, that something just wasn't fun about jumping around in a 3d world. Perhaps it was because I sucked at it, and kept falling in holes and ditches, and missing bad guys by five starstruck feet whenever I tried to land on their little koopa heads, but honestly, Mario 64 just didn't do it for me. Zelda 64 did it in leaps and bounds simply because it had the auto-jump feature, and Goldeneye and Perfect Dark both did it because there was simply no jumping whatsoever. Freestyle jumping in a virtual 3d world just wasn't my bag, baby. It's just not something I would jump out of my seat for.

But I guess I have been proven wrong. I guess my no-name prayers were finally answered, because I simply couldn't get enough of jumping and "Wahoo"ing around in Super Mario Sunshine. And why? Because of FLUDD. Sure, I spelled the name of this Gadd Gizmo wrong on my Tweakui site, but I mean it when I say that FLUDD is a jumpman godsend. When I first heard that Mario would be getting a Luigi's Mansion type of contraption on his back, I freaked out at first. I thought the purity and sanctity of the Mario Bros. series had been perverted and pervaded by this so-called innovation of Nintendo's, but I stayed calm and coy, and reserved final Michelangelo judgement until I finally got the US version of the game in my hands. And quite honestly, FLUDD is perhaps my favourite video game innovation ever since the creation of Z-targeting, simply because thanks to this miracle device, I can jump everywhere in a 3d world with ease. Hell, I can jump everywhere in a 3d world and absolutely have fun. And quite honestly, although this ended up being the reason why I nearly broke my controller in two, I really do feel naked whenever I face a stage where I lose FLUDD to Shadow Mario. To put it bluntly, I quite honestly want to put down the game every single moment I lose that dear, Gadd friend of mine...

Some critics complain that the tasks in Mario Sunshine are chores rather than pleasures, and the platforming stages without FLUDD have made me agree with these naysayers to some degree (although I won't single out Gamespot here... oh wait, I just did...). Hell, thanks to this game, I've been conditioned to hate with a passion the Super Mario theme that's played in every single one of those platformer stages (although I do admit, the retro Mario music throughout the game was a brilliant Miyamoto touch)... However, I also must admit that every time I did earn a shine that I died countless times for, I did a little "suck-it" dance before my very TV screen (... HBK's back, so sue me...), and literally jumped in joy and absolute relief that I got my beloved FLUDD back. I can see why so many on the internet would see these stages as a chore for being so damn challenging (or for being so damn common, constant, and annoying), but honestly, as soon as I finished a single one of them, I cheered in utter triumph and disbelief. Maybe I'm just inexperienced at 3d platformers (I never played Jak & Daxtor, if that's how you spell it, Oddworld, or any 3d platformer since Conker's Bad Fur Day) and don't know what's considered good anymore or not, but as far as my opinion goes, I found it so damn hard to put down Mario Sunshine in the five days it took to beat it. And if that doesn't stand for something, I don't know what does.

Because goddammit, the game is fun. It's so damn fun, that it brings back the best of feelings from Super Mario World, or dare I say it, even Super Mario Bros. 2. And sure critics can blast the poor camera system (which has never given me a problem, never killed me once like the Sonic Adventure series seems to do, and in fact seemed perfect after I got used to using the C-stick), and sure critics can lambast the lack of areas in the game all they want (sure Mario 64 had tons of areas while Sunshine only has 7, but variety isn't everything; I for one was so damn happy that there wasn't an ice world in this game...), but the fact of the matter is, the game is still that damn fun. For a game to be that damn fun, despite all the glaring and slack-jawed flaws, is simply amazing. It's simply unheard of. And I can't believe that people would label Sunshine as a bad game, simply because it had a short/bad ending and a weak plot, when they admitted that they couldn't put the game down for the two or three days they had it! I mean, sure the textures are a little faded and jaded (although I never once noticed them being that way; I was personally too mesmerized by the draw distance and the water effects to ever once think Mario Sunshine didn't look exactly the way I always envisioned a Mario game should look like), but that never once stopped me from thinking to myself over and over again, that this game is definitely fun. The jumping felt perfect, the bosses were simplistic yet ingenius (the eel with the bad teeth costed me half an hour of my life, although it was worth it, and yes, ahoy, I did enjoy dying seven times in a row on the so-called 'easy' final boss), and the most important thing was, it's Mario! Simply put, it's-a-me, Mario! And I know, I know, I'm Mr. No-Name Nostalgia, and I can be perfectly blamed for loving this game so damn much simply because I'm a Nintendo fanboy. But that still doesn't change the fact, that I do and did love this game, because it was that damn fun to me, regardless of my reasons. And even if it was only because of nostalgia, I still have to give credit to Miyamoto and his team, for whipping and manipulating that sense of nostalgia into something that I would love and cherish for life. Not just something that I would enjoy or endure, but something that I would cherish and hold dear to my heart for God knows how long... and judging from my lack of enthousiasm for Mario 64, I do admit that there are times that even nostalgia can't work wonders. But as soon as I saw in the corner of the screen, Bowser being swung around as FLUDD was identifying Mario, I just knew... I just knew then and there, that sometimes, things just end up feeling right. And sometimes, just sometimes, despite the so-called "flaws" certain gamers refuse to hover past, a game can still feel perfect... a game can still feel like Mario...

... and, well... perfect... just perfect... peachy... Princess peachy, even... dandy... and great, just Peter the great, because the stars of Super Mario Sunshine have all set. My vacation is now officially over, and I've been forced to vacate the island of freedom. I'll be back to school in a matter of hours. I have only one night of reprieve inbetween to gather my final thoughts... I don't know what I'll be doing with this website, whether I'll have time to update it Wednesdays or even post my wrestling mini-reviews any longer, but oh well, AOL, at least I'll be going out with a bang... a fludd of water really, though if only, it could've came from her. Get the picture? The perfect picture?... probably not... but I guess, some dreams just aren't meant to be... the ones where you wish upon a star, I mean...

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