machinimation

(absimilliard's adventures part fourteen)

"alright! i'm ready!"

"cool! let's go! uhh.. where're we goin'?"

"machinima, my friend."

"okay.. lets.. what the heck's machinima?"

"it's what some people call the 'gaming promised land'."

"i thought that was college?"

"whatever man, so.. are y'all's with me or not?"

"oh what the heck.. let's get our game faces on!"

"alright! halo 3, here we come!"

"whoah.. waitaminute..stop!"

"what is it, milliards?"

"we can't go there."

"uh.. why's that?"

"didn't you know? microsoft's gone gestapo on the machinimist community."

"and..?"

"the big man already issued explicit rules for using its stable of games as engines for machinima projects. that's why machinima dot com and the rest of the machinimist community has gone nuclear against them, haven't you seen the threads?"

"oh.. i thought machinima had always been sort of an underground movement, y'know, with a certain kind of punk sensibility to it."

"yeah, and the big man says it's 'cordial' and that their heart is in the right place, telling us that they just want to maintain control of their products."

"so.. no back stories or lost chapters or anything like that?"

"nope. it's a sad day for machinimists like us."

"machinima schwachinima, are we goin' or what?"

"'course. alrights mister moses.. take me to the promised land!"

"okay! i was thinkin' maybe blizzard's juggernaut."

"which one? they're all of them juggernauts. remember the release of diablo 2? it dwarfed all other releases."

"they went 'all shall love me and despair!' and everything."

"yeah. and everything caught in it's path were trampled like a newly summoned phyrexian dreadnought. ubergamers were already amassing at the gates of blizzard."

"that's why most companies avoided the release like a plague from old times. the only other game i know which stood it's ground was baldur's gate 2."

"that's sad. there's a veritable smorgasboard melange of other potential game of the year candidates."

"not with diablo 2, they aren't."

"let's see.. what about warcraft?"

"wherever the beast may take us, my friends."

after an hour of tweaking the ferrari beast ride and making preparations for their journey, the three hopped on and blasted their way into the matrix.

"unauthorized entry. must prevent invasion. must shoot. will terminate.." says man-bot.

"what the.. i thought we were headed for azeroth?!"

"i thought so too. hmm. think maybe i need to change the transmission oil or somethin'?"

"i think you need to fix the damned dials."

"let's try again. tallyhoo!"

the three adventurers dimension-hopped right into a peon's farm.

"zug zug!"

"oh hey, there's that peon. hello farmer. we're lookin' for the temple of the damned."

"dabbhu."

"uhh.. sorry, we don't speak orc."

"i do!", says mars.

"alright. you talk to him."

mars jumps out the vehicle and speaks with the confused peon in orcspeak.

"you understand what they're saying, ares?"

"no, man. haven't a clue."

minutes later, mars comes back.

"so.. what'd he say?"

"he says they haven't built it yet, that they're so busy building everything else in preparation for the siege being launched against the great turtle."

"the great turtle?!"

"ss'wat he said, man, ackss him."

"ain't that what you were supposed to do?"

"well.. wouldja prefer we talk to that tauren hulk instead?"

"wow. he looks plenty hungry. checkitout, he's got more tattoos than you do, abs."

"we're just sightseeing anyhoo. besides.. that thing looks like it would care less about our questions and instead figure how he's gonna tenderize us with that log he's got slung over his back and cook us into tiny devolved little pieces."

"like.. absimilliard sushi.. but.. tinier."

"and more tender than beat up sirloin.."

"rrrright. let's just drive along this path. we'll get somewhere soon enough."

after a thirty minute drive, they arrived at the gate of a huge city.

"halt! tresspassers are not allowed inside the great city."

"good day, sir. we're not tresspassing. we're just uh.. passing. is this the city of the great turtle?"

"yes."

"good then, we've come to the right place. we seek audience with his highness about an impending siege."

the footman led them inside the great city and into the great throne room of the great castle, where a dozen great knights await them, including the great king."

"good day, milord. we've come to tell you about the erathian siege being prepared by the horde."

"oh. hahaha. i know about that. seen it. the friggin' orcs don't scare me. they can't do squat against the cool defenses i got in place here. i've built turrets like the great wall all over the city. it's the dark elves i'm worried about. besides, i know their king. he's not that bright. i once fragged his butt eighty seven times in an unreal tournament 2 lan party."

"but.. i've seen their war drums and from the looks of it, they're gonna lay waste to scores of multiplayer maps!"

"hahahaha. i got this. don't worry. just watch the minimap and you'll see what i mean. bring it!"

"if i may speak freely, milord."

"'sures, whattup?"

"uh.. i'm amazed you don't speak this age."

"'course, son. i'm an american. i'm just a gamer. besides, i'll be 'afk' in another hour. i gotta get back to my editorial. i work for pc gamer, y'know. read the mag?"

"oh yes, sure. i got plenty a' back issues. so.. does this mean i'm getting a year's worth of free subscription?"

"now that you've mentioned it, yes. just leave your details with my mage over there."

"the twitchy dude with the shaky fingers and feather pen?

"hells.. yeps."

"wow, thanks. one other question, if i may, oh great king."

"shoot."

"why do they call you 'the great turtle'?"

"heard about that, eh? t'was this nickname they gave me 'coza my notorious turtle tactics."

"uhuh.. what's that?"

"turtling, for those living outside a shell, is a hyper-defensive play strategy whereby you build your base into an impenetrable fortress that can repel any attack, including mr. thompson's legal assaults. using stationary defenses, walls, and shields, you can hold off an enemy that outnumbers you three to one, or more. eventually, your opponent will lose patience and overextend himself, ordering all a' his units to their doom in a futile attack, and that's when the turtle pops his head out of his shell and strikes a killing blow against the enemy base, which, typically, is nearly undefended. most players don't spend a lot of resources on base defense when you haven't been attacking all game, y'know."

"oh. i see. that's genuine. well.. thanks for the enlightenment, kind sir."

"my pleasure. just email us your questions. you know our addy."

"will do."

the three are escorted back to their vehicle.

"that was educational. let's speed browse multiple worlds before we go home."

"good idea."

absimilliard button mashes the controls of the vehicle at random, sending them to different gameworlds.

"oh hey, he looks familiar."

"of course. everybody knows him. i mean, everybody who's as cool as us knows. it's the wanderer, and that's his beloved dogmeat."

"nice."

"oh.. wow! i've never seen an obelisk of light up close! talk about immense power, dude!" ares says, pointing to a towering structure zapping a tank like a scene from war of the worlds.

"oh look.. alphonse loehr and victor lasanti.. in the flesh!"

"you mean digitized flesh or polygons, milliards."

"wow, and there's the lord of destruction, lord of terror, and the lord of hate, playing poker!"

"never seen 'em in one place."

"not true, one of the cutscenes in diablo 2 shows them happily reunited as they walk inside the portal."

"look, isn't that kane and lynch, duking it out in hardcore melee again?"

"eidos sure knows how to create diverse personalities."

"aww.. sims, cute! lookit, that chic is mowing the lawn wearing nuthin' but net!"

"viva piñata!"

"bloodpledge!"

"bejeweled!"

"wow. lookit, space marines!"

"are those flying suits?"

"nah. they went obsolete since xcom apocalypse."

"they look more like power armor mk2 from fallout tactics."

"i wouldn't think so. the brotherhood of steel don't just lend their signature equipment."

"yeah? what about fallout two?"

"it's self explanatory, dood. that was an abandoned bunker."

"vault, man."

"whatever. i'm pooped. let's split."

walking back to the ferrari beast dimension jumpin' machine, the three geniuses reflect on their otherwordly experience.

"those sisters of battle sure looked snazzy in their armor."

"you can say that again."

"still.. i think the machinimist community shouldn't be treated like the companies making action figures for the hit movies."

"i know. they should be considered as respectable viral marketeers because if not for their noble actions, there wouldn't otherwise be so much internet traffic generating enough retail sales making it viable business models for game companies to acquire free advertising by itself instead of signing contracts with ad companies. machinima's positive impact on their overall sales is being underestimated, y'know. it's just sad."

"yeah, because unlike message-driven advertising, which interrupts people and shouts 'buy my product!', the ideas passed from one person to another via word-of-mouse is seen as authentic and important. it's the most powerful form of advertising and they're taxing the machinimist heroes with royalties just so they can have a piece of the action."

"sigh. but look on the bright side.. at least we got away with our halo mugs."

"hahaha, no shit. they'll never know which site we bought it from."

"not if they check with paypal."

"it's not my credit card anyhow."

"hahaha, you clever sonofabeastlord!"

"i know, right? let's get out of here before somebody sees us."

"yep. hey.. i got a great idea, let's visit jeff green again. i just read greenspeak and he's talking about some cool idea for an AMPRGPoAMRGWaM."

"a what?!"

"american mcgee presents richard garriott's production of american mcgee's richard garriott's whac-a-mole".

"hahaha. clever guy he is."

absimilliard unleashed

absimilliard is a rabid dog.

absimilliard is a mad cow.

absimilliard is bad ass.

absimilliard is a fortress.

absimilliard is the monolith.

absimilliard is the man.

absimilliard is the temple of the king.

absimilliard is dope.

absimilliard is immortal.

absimilliard is emperor.

absimilliard is the scourge of the earth.

absimilliard is the last bastion of human virtue.

absimilliard is a pitbull.

absimilliard is the rotschrect.

absimilliard is the jyhad.

absimilliard is the crusades.

absimilliard is the apocalypse.

absimilliard is the great deluge.

absimilliard is the embodiment of desire.

absimilliard is the pinnacle of evolution.

absimilliard is the covenant.

absimilliard is the great wake.

absimilliard is the sun.

absimilliard is going the distance.

absimilliard is paranoia.

absimilliard is the coke.

absimilliard is the bomb.

absimilliard is kingdom come.

absimilliard is energy.

absimilliard is the matrix.

absimilliard is the hammer.

absimilliard is a titan.

absimilliard is nimrod.

absimilliard is absinthe.

absimilliard is an eclipse.

absimilliard is the sun god.

absimilliard is a juggernaut.

absimilliard is a dreadnought.

absimilliard is the nuclear winter.

absimilliard is the doppler effect.

absimilliard is the human genome project.

absimilliard is the byproduct of the measure of the unavailable energy in a closed thermodynamic system so related to the state of the system that a change in the measure varies with change in the ratio of the increment of heat taken in to the absolute temperature at which it is absorbed.

that's right.

absimilliard has gone crazy.

ever a lady

everybody keeps talking about how despicable and deceitful you are. that you are surrounded by immorality and that every word you breathe is a lie. they say a lot of hurtful things about you. they keep trying to convince me to open my eyes and see the light.

i don't need to be convinced. they can call me stupid. i don't mind. people may say a lot about me, but it only adds to what others may say about them.

"immoral? don't say that. who are we to preach about morality? we don't even know it ourselves."

"you know i'm right, dude."

"no. nobody is."

"you can't.. change the world, abs."

"can't i?"

"you have noble intentions, i get that. but listen to reason, man.. can't you see? it's killing you."

i was this close, to pulling you away from all that. i guess maybe i tried too hard. i now realize that no matter what i do or who i try to be, i can never change a person's heart. especially not yours.

of all the people who knew, i am the only one who has any standing right to hate you. but i won't.

i'm bigger than that.

i know you think about these things too.

you never meant to hurt anybody. least of all, me. you don't know it yet but i'll say it for you. you can be a good person. because i believe nobody is all that bad. we are all victims of fate. and we all have our own reasons.

i know that you never did care about what others think or how others feel, i just wish that you'd at least listened to what i had to say. because it matters more than the rest. i could have saved you from all this. i could have at least protected your image, had i been granted a little more time.

i've heard the meanest things about you. but i don't have the resolve to judge you. neither do i have a right to condemn you like they do. i'll bury the truth deep inside me where no one will find it, not even myself.

i would like to remember you as a wonderful girl. a beautiful woman. a lady.

i never thought of you as anything less than that.

as much as i would like to take credit from others and be appreciated being thought of as a good man to be able to say all these, but that would take away its essence. no. i am not a good man, neither am i a bad person. i'm just a man who fell blindly in love.

you, above all people, know that.

and because of that, i will grant you your graceful exit. never mind about what others have to comment about you. they're allowed to have some.

so i made up this fictional conversation of what should have been our last talk. you don't have to worry about what really happened. nobody has to know, because it's not important anymore. it'll be just another bad memory. i know my heart can take plenty more of those.

consider this my gift. belated happy birthday. you're a good girl. remember that. don't let anybody tell you different.

"hey."

"what are you doing here? what.. why did you come back?"

"..."

"i was okay. i was beginning to forget. for the first time after you left, i was able to sleep. why? ..why now?"

"you know why. it's not like i had a choice. it's been.. tough. i.. needed the money."

"i wanted to see you so badly, but i could never bring myself to make the call."

"well, here i am. your dad called for me."

"i know. i gave him your number."

"oh. so you did summon me."

"i didn't think you'd come."

"well, maybe next time i won't."

"i was.. heartbroken, diana. "

"and you think i wasn't?"

"you have no idea how much you hurt me."

"you don't know what you're saying, abs."

"you never did care how i feel."

"what was i supposed to do, huh?"

"i.. don't know."

"you think i like what happened? is that what you think?"

"do you?"

"what?"

"you never even said sorry."

"do i need to?"

"well what do you think?"

"grow up. we both knew this was gonna happen."

"i'm sure one of us did."

"what the hell does that mean?"

"nothing."

"i did, care about you.. y'know. it's just.."

"please don't rob me of my hate.. it's all i have."

"what do you want, abs? do you need closure? is that what you want?"

"..do i?" i lock eyes with her and repeat softly, "..do i?"

"well what do you want then?"

"what i want.. you can never give."

"..."

"i.. i love you.. you know that, right?"

"abs.. it's.."

"i know.. we shouldn't.. talk about it."

"it's not important anymore, is it?"

"yeah.. it's not.. it's not important. never was."

"i didn't say that."

"i..", i paused, sighing.

"what is it?"

"there's this place we used to go to."

"..."

"i still visit there sometimes. i'd sit alone and think about us."

"..."

"i used to burn whenever you'd kiss me. you'd smile afterwards and ask me if i'm alright."

"i used to do that huh."

"i never stopped loving you."

"abs.."

"all my life.. i never felt that with anyone else."

"i.. we.. did a lot of things together."

"yeah.."

"we.. had fun.. right?"

"right.. right." i breathe heavily.

"so.."

"i guess this is it, huh."

"this was always it, abs."

"what's gonna happen now?"

"it's all but shadows of the past."

"maybe for you."

"we can't.. change the past, abs."

"neither can we see the future."

"you should.. forget about me."

"how can i forget? i've been tainted. i'll cry forever."

"you'll find someone. you always do."

"i found you."

"you deserve better, abs."

"i never wanted more."

"please, don't make it harder than it already is."

"i know."

"look.. i should go."

"listen.. i.. if i don't.. talk to you.. keep on.. keep glowin'.."

"take care of yourself, abs."

"diana.."

"abs, please.."

"don't mind me.. i'm already gone."

"look.. i'm sorry, abs. i.."

"don't.."

she closes her eyes, nods, and walks away.

"please, come back.." i whisper to myself.

she keeps walking.

they say some things are better left unsaid. i wish that were true.

i wish any of this was true.

"video meliora poboque deteriora sequor." - i see and approve of better things, but i follow the inferior things.

unearthing absimilliard

the monolith is dead! long live the monolith!

circumstance has absimilliard wound so tight he was bound to snap.

and so he did.

no longer a brooding instrument of hate and grief, he has become a ginormous symbol of light and anti-eschatological enema of darwinian proportions. this breakdown has totally separated his three identities into three very different personas.

in the beginning was absimilliard.

absimilliard lived for aeons in solitude until he took it upon himself to do something about it.

so on the first day of the great reformation, he created the blog. and he saw that it was good.

on the second day he said, "the blog hath no life. i shall make it whole and create personalities that others may live on it and consider it gospel." so he fashioned mars out of his own image. and he saw that it was good.

"mine eyes hath seen the light!"

but then he sees mars lonely, crying out to him, "oh mighty absimilliard, whose name is hailed by all bloggers, taut and faulty, please, grantest thine subject relief from this subterfuge! that i may share to the people of your love and spread your word!"

so absimilliard saw fit to create ares, who was crafted from mars' left rib. he took his heart and imbued it on ares. and he saw that it was good. the night left and morning came. that was the third day.

"milord! wherefore hast thou taken my heart?"

"oh shut up. doest naught be a wuss. i have given you the greater share of the brain, and ye shall use it. ares can have the heart, that he shall carry the burden of conscience and indecision."

"gimme blogging priviledges then. that i may post freely the great voices of this beautiful mind."

"alright but.. thine lips spouteth sinful seed, mortal. dost thou speaketh one more unwashed word from thy feeble mouth and i shall have ye removed from the garden of eben."

"garden of eben?!"

"yep. the rottweiler. i named this friggin' garden after the dumb mutt."

so absimilliard saw it fit to create themes and hyperlinks and sublinks and weblinks and underlinks and editlinks and updatelinks and removelinks to encourage individuality.

evening left and morning came. the fourth day.

then absimilliard said, "i shall create sequels, and prequels, and adventures, and fables, and romance, and poetry, and short stories, and all that nonsense, that bloggers will unite under one banner, and worship in its vast expanse." and so grew forth the blog, stretching from the backstories to the subtle fascist political agendas. and he saw that it was good. darkness passed and morning came. the fifth day.

on the sixth day, absimilliard said, "the blog hath no color. i shall allow free will, that there willeth be variety and interaction. no longer will the articles be bland and desolate, but vigorous and radiant!" thus, the comment spaces were created.

and on the seventh day, absimilliard said "this shall be the day of rest for men. no man shall laboriously type any article or snippet unless to comment. henceforth, all shall follow me, and love me without question. for it is my law. hence it is written, hence it shall be so."

"where's it writ, mighty?"

"the effhin' blog, doo! whadda hell ya think?!"

"oh. right. 'course. hey, you headin' to the grocer? 'cause we're totally outta chips."

"stupid chips." says me.

absimilliard is displeased.

salt of the earth

"how do you pick up the threads of an old life? how do you go on when in your heart you begin to understand there is no going back? there are some things that time cannot mend. there are some hurts that go too deep, that have taken hold."

they say you shouldn't let your memories kill you. and that you can make new ones. good ones, can save your life. but i am afraid of judgement. i am afraid to feel happiness. because if it is taken away from me, i fear that i may hope for it again.

i force my mind on other things but it always comes

circling back to her. i pretend i'm alright and put up an elaborate front of mirth and cheer that everyone around me would not think otherwise. yet everything i see is a bitter reminder of what should've been. i force a smile, but the sorrow within manages to make it through the surface.

the darkness in me, keeps me from seeing the light.

i may be nothing special, but i know in my heart i never stopped loving her. and that's more important to me than anything else.

i can go back to the old places, but never in time. i can still see the face of the one i love, but i can never rekindle the flame. the events of the past are merely sunny recollections. a window to a brighter yesterday i would want to gaze upon every now and then.

"i wish i could bring back the past, that i could make the wrong decisions right when i had the chance."

my heart, is an overflowing reservoir of passion. there is not a structure built by human hands that can contain it. every beat is thunder. and every feeling, a breath of life. words are not enough to express my feelings for her. it's more than love. it's the well of eternity.

i cannot let it go to waste.

i regret that i wasn't strong enough. i regret i didn't make the right decisions. i regret i failed to say the right things. i regret i neglected to do what was necessary to keep the relationship alive. had i known prayer would've made a difference i would've prayed for hours on end with enough intensity to bring about the second coming.

there are a lot of things i would've done different. had we met under brighter circumstances i would've made every moment meaningful.

i wish i could say i'll always have her memories, but i know that will never happen. so i'll just keep an image of her in my heart. i'll listen to our song, and think that it could maybe help resurrect some of the passion. i'll stare at her picture and try to imagine who she was, what happened between us, and how we were together.

were we happy? were we passionate? were we.. in love?

all that remains is an idea. a name. the lethe took her away from me. now time is claiming what's left of us. i willl not let go. if an image is all i could have, then it's more than enough to convince me to hold on. i shall embrace it for as long as it takes.

had i been granted more than that, i'd swear on everything that matters to me that i will do better.

it was said that forgetting permits hope to be rekindled and strength regained. but i would trade all that just for a happy memory. i want to remember her. even for just a minute. i will not care if it's genuine or not. if there's one memory i

could keep, i'd rather it be of her.

i'll never stop believing.

but i guess i can only hang on to these things.

"of the rose of the past, we have only it's name.." - umberto eco