The Last Candle

The Sonata Arctica concert last night at Harpo’s was nothing less than fantastically fabulous.

Silence was the first or second metal albums I ever bought, so having it signed is fairly significant.

Like the Opeth and Porcupine Tree concerts before, seeing the band live and meeting them afterwards is such a surreal and exciting experience. The Sonata guys were particularly friendly, too, especially Tony, who was kind enough to take three pictures with me on my camera phone after the two attempts didn’t turn out right. (The second picture was too dark, and Tony exclaimed as much. “That’s too dark, man! Let’s get somewhere where there’s more light…” I wasn’t going to argue.)

While Sonata Arctica show was killer, the range from when we arrived at doors-open at 6 PM to about 9 was mostly filler: Local bands playing weak black metal, cheap power metal, and an enthusiast but lacking gothic-styled doom metal band (best part of the gothic band’s act: a telephone they rigged up as a mic to get that low-quality vocal sound on-stage).

But when Sonata came on stage, the previous three hours of slogging through growling, howling might-be/would-be/never-be’s were completely forgotten. Here’s the set list, in the order as best as I can remember:

• Misplaced
• Blinded No More
• FullMoon
• Picturing The Past
• Kingdom For A Heart
• Victoria’s Secret [with a strange Reggae-style ending]
• Last Drop Falls
• My Land
• Broken
• 8th Commandment
• Tallulah
• Black Sheep [end of original show]
• [encore begins] Medley: San Sebastian, The Power of One, Destruction Preventer, Weballergy, Revontulet, et al [about six or seven minutes of different stuff — very cool]
• Don’t Say A Word
• The Cage

Not counting the ones included in the medley, that amounts up to three songs from Reckoning Night, the most recent album, five from Ecliptica, the first album, three from Winterheart’s Guild, and four from Silence, which is a pretty nice chronological spread. The big surprise was having the majority of the tunes coming from Ecliptica and not Reckoning Night. Still, since Ecliptica is probably the group’s best album — and oldest — it was a treat to hear that they hadn’t relaxed on cranking out the rockin’ originals.

For me, hearing Victoria’s Secret, My Land, and Don’t Say A Word live were the big stand-outs; if I could have requested a song that didn’t make an appearance, Wolf & Raven would have been chosen in a heartbeat. There were several cries from the audience in the show for White Pearl, Black Oceans…; obviously, hearing that opus would’ve been incredible, but it just didn’t make the cut for the night’s set. Maybe next year!

Other highlights from the show: Tony getting the audience to sing before beginning the encore (“We’re going to play a couple more songs, but first, you’re going to have to do something for us!”); this short, gorilla-ish guy shuffling around, tossing plastic cups and trash into the air and his frequent unsuccessful attempts to get a mosh pit going during the crap local bands; real moshing spinning about ten feet away with Sonata’s gig; and having the opportunity to shake the hand of every member of the band.

The lack of blogging recently is the result of a recent dilemma: Each night, I can either choose to write up a blog post, or work on one of a dozen other projects (e.g. the new page design, or Bedlamn in Battery Park). Previously, in November and December, the blogging side has won out; lately, the latter option has come out on top.

Nonetheless, tonight’s post was going to be a lengthy affair about my opinions on comments on political blogs provoked by the recent kerfluffle (and consequent live chat) at the Washington Post — and who doesn’t like a little political scat and chat?

Unfortunately for the ole’ blogging momentum, tonight turned out to be one of those nights where it takes a half-hour to write two sentences. And then the two sentences don’t even belong next to each other. And then the foul mood created by screeding out a political post in the first place is further complemented by not being able hack even the English language.

After getting inflamed about both the topic and the writing, punching out a post, any post becomes a completely tedious exercise — and the audience ends up with something like you’re reading right now.

On the bright side of the, er, evening, instead of finishing the poly-post, I sat back and fired several barrels of darts — courtesy of the Mav — at the feminine picture of Beck taped to the wall; as a result, my post-rage has been coolly abated.

Why do I have a feminine picture of Beck on the wall?

Um, duh: target practice.

Item one: Nerf guns! Here’s foam weapon #1 sitting next to some in-house taxidermy:

I’ve deemed it the Derringer N; notwithstanding that I don’t know the gun’s official moniker, I doubt the Nerf marketing crew could assign a finer title. Like a Derringer, the Derringer N is a tiny, non-repeating, manual-load pump-action handgun. Unlike the true Derringer, this one .50 caliber foam suction darts. The tiny pistol is snug in the hand and fits quite comfortably into a pants pocket, making the Derringer N very convenient to quickly and discretely draw when someone cuts in line at the deli.

But while the Derringer N is suitable for portability purposes, it is no solution for adequate home defense; I need something with a little more firepower, a little more oomph.

Enter the Maverick:

The Maverick (offical Nerf title) is a straight six-shootin’, manflesh-stoppin’ machine. Cutting-edge Nerf technology rotates the revolver’s barrel when squeezing off a round, but in return this heavy-duty handgun is only single-action: The hammer must be cocked prior to firing off each round.

If the Derringer N has the power to make someone think a fly landed on their shoulder after a foamy round connects, the Maverick will certainly provoke the target to turn around to see who’s launching soft bullets in their direction — this tactical blunder will bring at least part of the target’s face into view for the next volley, causing at the very least severe irritation, or at the maximum a good poke in the eye.

The Maverick is also makes one feel totally awesome when one treats it like a real revolver handled by a real person in real life: Spinning the barrel whenever not firing, slamming the barrel back into place sideways after reloading darts, shooting stuffed animals, etc.

(Okay, so this Nerf impulse was accentuated on by a Penny Arcade comic. But the Derringer N entered my life before the comic, I swear.)

Item two: New music.

• Sufjan Stevens’ Illinois: I’ve only listened to the album once so far after receiving it tonight, but I’m going to make an entirely brazen statement about its quality already:

  This might be one of my favorite albums of 2006. Or one of the best out of 2005, when it was released. Or perhaps the album is so good that it transcends the Roman calendar. I’ve done that once or twice myself, but then I wake up.

  Links for Illinois: iTunes, direct link from Sufjan’s label (only $12 shipped!).

• Porcupine Tree’s Signify: Finally, my collection of PT albums finally sees some growth after months owning only In Absentia and Deadwing. (Please note: “only” owning the aforementioned albums is implies no lack, or implies a lack along the path of Mozart was only some guy who wrote music.) Signify is Tree’s first serious studio album and has much less of the metal, heavy sound that the most recent albums contain, containing instead more “prog” that was signature of the earlier PT albums.

  Maybe someday I’ll tuck back into the super-prog cuts of PT catalogue, delving into prog-classics like The Sky Moves Sideways, but my heart for now is guilded with steel and beats to the rhythm of the double-bass drum. Meaning: I’m not really in a proggy kind of mood these days. But Tree is so good that a shift is inevitable, similar to how Soilwork and Children of Bodom shifted my musical spectrum towards black….

  Links: iTunes, Porcupine Tree’s offical page.

• Frameshift’s Unweaving the Rainbow: Tucking into something new, here. Starring James LaBrie of Dream Theater on pipes, Unweaving the Rainbow is a concept album that takes cues and inspiration from contemporary science writer Richard Dawkins’ pro-evolution book The Blind Watchmaker. From what I’ve heard of the album, it’s a really well-produced prog-rock album, something I haven’t had much of since I bought Dream Theater’s Six Degrees of Inner Turbulence. (Okay, so I do get my prog in now and then — but it’s just not all prog, mind you.)

  As goes with most concept albums based on real people or real events, it’s the music that’s attracted me, not the concept itself. That changes after several listenings, however, when my enjoyment for the music rises to such a pitch that I’m interested in what provoked the production (classic example: Thy Majestie’s 1066 is entirely to blame for igniting my singular knowledge of the Battle of Hastings).

  Although, again, the research has to be provoked by something good in the first place — you can’t light firewood with wet matches after all. But from what I’ve heard of Unweaving the Rainbow, I think I’ll very much enjoy the music at the very least, and anything after that is just a sweet bonus.

  Links: iTunes, Frameshift project page.

Catching up on gamer-supreme (and ex-Shacker) roushimsx’s weblog, I eventually read through to the entry titled “The White Room”, and immediately wondered if it was the same White Room in a certain Xbox game that had caused extreme controller-smashing (soon to be an XGames event) frustration several months ago. Reading on to see if my suspicions were confirmed:

My lord, I�ve heard warnings of “The White Room” from many people that have played Breakdown and they’ve all mentioned it as the place they gave up in the game�and now I know why. It starts off with ~6 armored up T’Lan warriors coming out to kick your ass, then 3 heavies spawn in, then 6 or so stealth T’Lan pop in, THEN ~6 laser T�Lan guys show up. You’d think that you’d be done, but FUCK NO, now you have to fight another wave that combines all 4 enemy types.

Bingo! The mention of T’lan give it away: Roushi speaks of a final confrontation against the opposition, the T’Lan, in Breakdown, an Xbox game that combines first-person fighting and shooting, first-person drinking, eating, and vomiting, and first-person kicks to the face. Breakdown also accomodates a wildly fluctuating fun factor that bounces between “pretty damn cool” and “I hate my Xbox,” depending on if you’re fighting human soliders or the cybernetic alien T’Lan, respectively.

I enjoyed most of what I played of Breakdown, but when a certain fight was reached — hint: the rumble takes place in a room that’s white — the frustration reached such a tortuous peak that any momentum to finish Breakdown disappeared completely, even though the White Room is about ten minutes from the end of the 15-hour game. That is some serious business frustation, folks — I was so looking forward to finally finishing Breakdown, but that damned White Room’s challenge was so high that the battle was relented minutes from the final blow.

Roushimsx’s had a similar experience to the room, detailed in a consequent blog post:

Yea. No. Fuck this.

I just spent an hour and a half, which is my entire gametime for the evening, on that stupid ass white room only to find out that during the 5th wave, enemies respawn. Fuck that. If anyone has a savegame from right after the white room (lol, right), please hook me up. As it is, I took the god damn game out of my Xbox and put it back on the shelf. I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever go back to it because I really don’t feel like fighting through all of those fucking waves all over again only to get mauled on the 5th wave.

Did I mention that I couldn’t get past the 1st wave? Yeah. I don’t suppose I mentioned either that my way of removing Breakdown from the console wasn’t anything near calmly putting Breakdown back on the shelf. My method involved more throwing, kicking, and an ultimate banishment to the underwear drawer.

But I feel a little better knowing that such an esteemed gamer like roushi, whose technique is so toned that among his accolades is completing the original Contra without using the Konami code and besting Ikaruga to full completion, is having the same kind of trouble I had with that damn game.

I think the first Spotlight Reviewer from Breakdown’s Amazon page says it best: “Calling all masochists- Your game has arrived.” Fifteen hours were spent trying to decide if Breakdown was an innovative experience or just one big anxious tease, but the battle in the White Room elevates the latter opinion past a mere tease into a twist of the knife.

In happier gaming news, my single New Year’s resolution has been ignited with the purchase of the Broken Sword double-pack that includes the first two games, Shadows of the Templars and The Smoking Mirror. In my quest to play at least one adventure game per month (among all the other games being played), I’m trying to start earlier back in the chronology; I’ve heard of the Broken Sword series several times over the years, usually in good terms, and found an online retailer that’d sell the two-game set for only $15 shipped.

My initial plan was to start off by grabbing a copy of one of the Lucasarts Archives collections, allowing me to catch up with the legendary adventures Lucasarts put out ten years ago before becoming a mediocre Star Wars-game creation studio. Evidently word of the status of the now-rare Archives has leaked out: Amazon doesn’t list an archive for less than $80; other editions go for considerably higher; and Ebay doesn’t have any listings for the adventure game Archives at all, only a couple for the Star Wars-themed Archives.

I’m a shell of an adventure gamer for not having played any of the classic Monkey Island games, and being unable to find a reasonable avenue for resolving the deficiency without dropping a monster-load of capital makes me sad. The pursuit smacks vaguely of biliophile’s quest for old, original tomes of value — except instead of an original Tennyson, I’m looking for an original Threepwood.

Still, even with the out-of-reach prices of the Lucasarts Archives and the waning age of adventure gaming, there’s no lack of adventure games to catch up on: Thanks to the comprehensive game index at Adventure Gamers, I’ve got plenty of ideas for the next excursion. Something more modern is in the cards, I believe — perhaps the first Delaware St. Johns game, or even Syberia II to finish off the series, even though I found the first game somewhat lacking (but entirely gorgeous).

One thing’s for sure about the imminent adventure gaming: there’ll be no throwing of keyboards against the wall after being kicking mercilessly to death by cyborg anagonists. There better not be any cyborg anagonists, at least, or else I might be forced to change my resolution to play real-time strategy games instead, which I’m sure’ll do wonders for my temper.

At tomorrow, the nice CD-burning people in the basement (just below the morgue and right above the battle arena) ship CD 05.4.0, and all my products…er, states ship with it. Arkansas, Colorado, Connecticut, Montana, Oregon, Tennessee, and Utah — all out the door in quaint little sleeves to smiling accountants across the United States.

Huzzah.

The shipment of the CD also unofficially marks the end of the busy season at work which began (also unofficially) back in the beginning of October. This so-called “busy season” was the cause of roughly 40 hours of overtime during the three months and exactly one week of hell due to a tight, incoming deadline and a state in great need of updating and bug eradication.

All told, fourty hours o’ extra work and only a week of pain is far less strenuous than I was expecting: we’re allotted up to 20 extra hours a week, and some of the other folks use every minute. And the ones who are really pressed for time manage to pack in extra minutes between the hour changeovers — haven’t figured out how they do that, but it’s a pretty nifty trick.

The next season, which lasts roughly from tomorrow to early April, can be described using this verbatim quote from a co-worker: “You will know the true meaning of boredom.”

Evidently, the next season — slow season, I guess? — goes something like this: The analysts, the people who give the programmers work to do, all go off to do busy themselves with other important tasks for four months. When the analysts leave, no rescue squad of accountants or busymen are brought in to align work up for the programmer to do. The programmer instead is left to his own devices — that is, a computer full of source code he’s looked at for the past eight months that he’s not allowed to install games on. Once in a while, a fix may come in that needs attention which the programmer will pounce upon like a hungry dog lunging a flank of lamb, but otherwise there is very little, which is close enough to nothing to do.

Nothing to do for 150 days.

I suspect midday blogging will suddenly return and be quite prolific come next week.