Chemin took her throne a couple nights ago…
Rue (left), my DS1 Pyromancer, and Chemin (right), my DS2 Sorcerer.
Now that I’m many, many hours into Dark Souls 2, I was curious to compare the looks of both games, as I had consciously not revisited Dark Souls before its sequel was released. Despite this distance from the first game, when I first started Dark Souls 2 I was taken aback by the lighter, more saturated colors and slightly illustrative style of design. Putting these images side by side was actually more of a shock than I expected.
(For the purposes of this comparison I equipped both characters with the Elite Knight Armor Set, the Zweihander Greatsword, and Crest & Golden Wing shields).
My sorceress Chemin in Dark Souls 2 so far. I need to take more pictures, as she’s been wearing way more gear than this as the environments and situations demand it.
I’ve heard it happen in three or four conversations in the span of two days: Someone is telling a long story of middling interest, no detail spared, and at some point they mention a particular detail about something (important or inconsequential: doesn’t matter). This detail sparks a severely tangential memory or thought in one of the listeners, like they’ve been trying to remember something or had completely spaced something but now it’s back in their head and they don’t want to lose it. They may quickly tell the thing to another listener with whom they were trying to remember it previously. They may just say they’ve been trying to remember this thing, and when the story is over anyone can tell them what that thing was so they can follow up on it in their own time. What it is is an aside that is a very slight interruption (seemingly) devoid of intention to halt the momentum of the storyteller. The storyteller politely acknowledges the person’s memory triumph because it is so apparent that it was a spontaneous thought brought on by some innocuous thing in the story being told, so really this was to be expected in the realm of things that could happen by performing to such an intimate, tailored crowd of friendlies, and can be forgiven as such (and seriously, it’s the storyteller’s STORY— a thing remembered so it may be told over and over— so it can for sure be stopped and started as necessary in order to reconcile with the genuinely modest needs of their captive audience who are struggling to combat the tendrils of desperation creeping forward from the backs of their eyeballs to give them away— alternatively, tendrils of boredom— while their bodies are held in place by the invisible barbs of the nearly illegible, serifed small print on the ‘friend’s long stories’ page of their social contracts). So with the innocent aside out of the way, the storyteller gathers his thoughts and says, “Ok, ok, long story short.” (It is irrelevant whether this actually causes the storyteller to wrap up their story any faster than they were planning on it)
I’m not saying this is a way for you to help your friends tighten up their longwinded, subpar storytelling techniques. I’m saying it’s a way to get them to say ‘Ok, ok, long story short…’
Earlier today I was logging into my work computer, and in the middle of typing my password my fingers just gave up, hitting a bunch of other keys, and I seriously thought, “Eh, good enough,” and hit Enter. Surprisingly, it did not log me in.
You go on WTF, and the host is like ‘Why should I care about you?’ Then you go on The Nerdist, the host is like ‘I care about you too much.’ Then you come here, and the host isn’t aware of what’s happening at all, or who the person is, and all he wants to do is wait for you to say the words ‘my wife.’
The Andy Daly Podcast Pilot Project is going to be so good, you guys. SO good. I am dying over here with anticipation to hear all of his characters.
Between his comedy album ‘Nine Sweaters,’ his appearances on every single Comedy Death Ray and later Comedy Bang Bang production (the live shows at NY & LA UCB theatres, the podcasts, the CBBLive 2012 & 2013 tours, the CBB TV show, ALL. OF. IT.), as well as his characters’ appearances on the spectacular Superego podcast, Andy Daly’s cavalcade of lovably bizarre, endearing, secretly-suicidal characters is about to achieve critical mass with the release of his own podcast. And when it premieres in February (as will his new tv show on Comedy Central, ‘Review with Forrest MacNeil’) an ear-to-ear grin on my face will manifest itself so severely and lightning quick that the top of my head will instantly pop off with a fervor, leaving my body behind with only a neck stump, a bottom jaw dangling precariously on one side by some gristle and sinew, and the whole of my tongue violently flapping and flailing around like an unmanned firehouse. And oh my lord, you guys, my remains will be carrying on for hours upon hours, caterwauling and gurgling out the most unnerving ululations of mirthful joy. It will be so off-putting— SO INSANELY unsettling— that when the paramedics arrive and lay their eyes upon what Andy Daly’s comedy has done to me, they will immediately, involuntarily projectile vomit all of their blood into the corners of my studio apartment while puncturing their eardrums with hospital-issued tongue depressors to block me out like it was their first day on the job.
Have I hyped this enough?
When we’re spacewalking, we like to grab on to things with our space gloves and be nice and steady. But I got to this one area along the side of the shuttle, and there was nothing good to grab. I had to grab a wire or a hose or a knob or a screw. And I’m kind of a big goon. And when there’s no gravity, you can get a lot of momentum built up, and I could go spinning off into space. I knew I had a safety tether that would probably hold, but I also had a heart that I wasn’t so sure about. I knew they would get me back, I just wasn’t sure what they would get back on the end of the tether when they reeled me in. So I was really concerned about this. I took my time, and I got through the treacherous path and out to the telescope.
I felt this deep loneliness. And it wasn’t just a Saturday-afternoon-with-a-book alone. I felt detached from the Earth. I felt that I was by myself, and everything that I knew and loved and that made me feel comfortable was far away. And then it started getting dark and cold.
Because we travel 17,500 miles an hour, ninety minutes is one lap around the Earth. So it’s forty-five minutes of sunlight and forty-five minutes of darkness. And when you enter the darkness, it is not just darkness. It’s the darkest black I have ever experienced. It’s the complete absence of light. It gets cold, and I could feel that coldness, and I could sense the darkness coming. And it just added to my loneliness.
|—||NASA Astronaut Mike Massimino’s first-hand take on what it was like to fix the Hubble Space (via crookedindifference)|