The Fifth Voyage of Sinbad: Sinbad Fails to Sail

At first, I was optimistic about this piece of film. It was a pg-13 sinbad movie from a little known studio that only lasted 1 hour and 19 minutes. Short, sweet, and to the point. The only problem was that it was sweet because it was short, and there was no point to be made.

It was as if the coffee boy delivering the script dropped all the pages, and because they didn't have the time or budget to put them back together, or to print out another copy, they just stated hurriedly, "We'll just shoot it this way!"

That is why the film started at the climax, went to the middle of the movie, explained why the middle of the movie was happening, then sprinkled in some random scenes completely irrelevant to everything else that was happening, then explained why the irrelevant scenes had to take place because...well they just had to.

Sinbad is like a piece of abstract art. The longer you watch it, the less you understand what exactly you're watching. Throughout the movie I tried to reason with myself, and beg the movie to please explain itself to which it replied, "Don't worry...we are about to have some character development around a campfi...GIANT CRAB ATTACKS! EVERYONE DIES! MWUHAHAHAHAHA!"

It was so busy trying to throw in as many monsters as possible that the plot failed to develop any characters, except Sinbad (who was being called Saunbad like someone was trying to explain their negative experiences at a sauna in broken English), who told weird diddly poems to the love of his life that didn't rhyme or make any sense whatsoever, yet she fell for them because her script told her to.

As the film progressed, I had to play detective and try to put together the separated pieces of script because the movie itself failed to weave them together for me, like an arrogant seamstress that insists that my shirt is supposed to be five clashing colors when all I wanted was someone to sew up a hole in my white tshirt.

So this is what my brilliant detective mind could deduce in a few short points.

- Sinbad loved the princess, but he couldn't marry her because he was not royal blood.
- The Sultan was so threatened by this fact that he offered to pay Sinbad not to love her, and was willing to pay him five times the amount of gold that would be rewarded to whoever killed him...so he was paying Sinbad to eliminate himself?
- The Sultan also gave an option to marry the daughter, but if he did, the Sultan would decapitate him immediately afterwards.
-When crafting a villain, make sure to tell the actor to draw out the vowels in their words. (My favorite line being, "Saunbad! You have the lives of a caaaaaaaaaaaaattttt..." Seriously, it was stupid lol.)
-The monsters were thrown in...well I never quite understood why 90 percent of them were there. The villain even had a pet DRAGON that never got any screen time beyond being chained to a tree stump.
- Also, make sure to kill off the crew, then bring them back after you thought they were dead, only to kill them off again...or maybe it was a past event, and they actually survived and then the other event took place after...but then she was already dead....never mind I give up.

I would not recommend this movie to anyone who wants to keep whatever sanity they have. But, if you are like me and want to have a crazy, insane evening of laughing and questioning why you're watching what you're watching, then by all means be my guest and watch this weird, deformed piece of abstract cinema.

You will never see Saunbad again...I mean Sinbad...*cough*

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The Fight of the Flu

Photo Credit: www.dreamstime.com

Deep in the bowels of my dorm room, I tried to sleep. My body ached and trembled as I rolled over, catching hints of peaceful rest between violent coughs and searing headaches. It all happened so fast that I was unable to see the signs.

Yes, I had cold symptoms for days, but that is normal with the changing weather and temperature fluctuation that is common in South Carolina. I pushed on through the coughs and sore throat only to run straight into a giant wall of symptoms that lay my body flat on it's back for the past three days.

The only relief I had from my forced slumber was a couple of daily commutes to the toilet, and then a stumbling return to my bed. It seemed as though the whole week would be spent in this agonizing anguish, seeing the light drizzle of rain pattering outside my window, and for once in my life wanting to be out in it instead of in the persistent melancholy of my lonely residence.

Even amidst the pain and exhaustion that comes with such a firm grip of the flu, I managed to get things done. I read all of my book for a class, took an exam, did a quiz, and managed to write an article review all within the few days that this dreadful virus kept me prisoner.

It was an odd prison, one that felt equally comforting and disjointing, as if this week did not exist at school, but in some persistent, never ending dream. Every moment I was awake I longed for rest, and in my times of rest I dreamed of what I would do once I woke up again.

One thing I did mange to do during my few days of sickness and self-sustained quarantine was to reflect on life. Life threw me a curveball, making me miss class and three days of work, but through it all I realized that I had managed to hit a home run. My psychological health, though partially damaged by the isolation and desperate need to feel better by the end of the week, was still mostly positive, and even in the pit of darkest symptoms I still tried to remain upbeat...when I wasn't sleeping.

So for all those who are going through sickness remember this. You will feel better eventually, and in the time of depression that comes with a very serious sickness, think about the many things there are to look forward to once it has run it's course. A flu is natural. It will come, wreck the body like an unwanted house guest, and then leave silently in the night. Sooner or later, you will feel better and not realize when the transition took place. Soon, you will be outside joking around with people and eating pizza with your friends again.

From one sick person to others who may read this, there may be a day when sickness can conquer us and make us bow to it's diseased will...but today is not that day! Sorry Aragorn...I stole your line. Sue me.

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Call of Duty: The Day the Reaper Played

I readied myself. The battlefield was littered with soldiers, each with glowing names floating above their helmeted heads. The timer counted down. 15...I checked my weapon, it was good...10...I looked at my scorestreaks, and had everything I needed. A UAV to tell me where the enemies were, a care package to give me scorestreaks I couldn't get on my own, and a turret to take care of danger when I wasn't around. My eyes glared at the screen and my fingers tightened around the controller.

3...2...1...I was the leader of the Frostbyte clan...and now I must...BAM! Immediately a bullet trail whistled through my collapsing body. I saw the perpetrator, with name provided graciously on my screen showing my untimely death in glorious slow motion. I skipped it immediately and reentered the fray.

My boots hit the ground hard as I ran up to the building, jumped onto the roof with elegant grace. I knew my skill level...these other guys wouldn't stand a...BAM! My soldier's body clumsily fell into a dead heap on the floor. Again, the camera closed in on the ender of my precious life...but this time I skipped it. I was bound and determined to win this free for all engagement. With a harsh battle cry I ran into battle, and mercilessly shot down my foe. A pleasant "+ 100" appeared above my fallen adversary.

1 kill down, 29 to go. Three minutes into the game, I looked down at the leaderboard. I knew that I was on top after I shot down a few other stragglers, but what I saw surprised me immensely. Before I could take it all in, my soldier flew threw the air and landed on his face. Someone managed to get 26 kills, and I sat on 3.

With a reinvigorated sense of purpose I clenched the controller tighter, and made a sly comment about snipers in call of duty, when suddenly my soldier ballet danced across the sand. I skipped the mocking replay and continued. Suddenly, without warning someone punched me off the roof. When I spawned again, I was more cautious, and walked slowly around the desert looking for my opponents. Sadly, I was too slow, and without warning a giant laser beam from space demolished my poor soldier, leaving him in a pixelated heap on the floor.

Frustration welled within me as I respawned again, knowing the difficulty I faced. Someone sat on 29 kills, and I was on 3. They were going to win if I didn't do something about it. I ran onto the battlefield, shooting everything that moved, until suddenly I was desperately confused. A soldier jumped straight up in the air and spun continuously like a ballet dancer from the Cirque de Soleil.

A shot would go off here and there, but whenever he took aim he spun around and did a weird dance of destruction. I laughed and kept going about my mission. This joker is trying to get a kill someone while jumping around like some kind of escaped circus clown. I am going to win this the way it was meant to be...BAM! Another sniper hiding in the corner of the room shot in a place that was never meant to be entered. Thanks...I thought to myself as I skipped the replay.

Finally, the timer was ticking down and I managed a couple of more kills under my belt. I ran towards my opponent when suddenly, the screen went grey and the pleasant words, "YOU LOSE" stretched across the top of my screen. I growled in disgust as I saw that the prancing ballerina sniper had won the round somehow, and I saw my own lowly position at the bottom of the leaderboard. I looked down the list of peoples kills and deaths...and then wanted to cry tears of sorrow as I looked upon my own.

After all of my hard earned work and dedication to the game of Call of Duty: Advanced Warfare, after starting my own clan and advertising how we were going to dominate the virtual landscape, after 48 levels of play...I sat on the most excruciating K/D ratio ever known to mankind. I saw my 5 kills, which I was aware of...but then I noticed that the grim reaper had paid me 34 visits in one round.

I learned today that everyone has bad days...but no one can say they've died 34 times...unless they are me. 

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Keeping eBay at Bay

Photo Credit: www.ebay.com

The computer screen lights up as my eyes focus intently on the numbers in front of me. Hmm, that is too expensive, must scroll down. Images of xbox games slide up my screen, begging me to buy them with red numbers ticking down the seconds till their departure. This is probably the last thing I'll buy, I think to myself as I look through the page.

Nothing seems worth my money. All of these deals scream for my attention like a marketplace behind the portal of power. The ability to buy anything is at my fingertips, bound only by the competing will of other similarly minded buyers, and by my own healthy intuition.

I could sit here for hours, panning through the deals, telling myself that there is always something better within the next ten minutes with which to spend my hard earned money. But the truth is, I'll never know. Sometimes you got to dive in and take a chance.

After a month of scrolling through hundreds of deals, I think I am done with diving for now. My eyes are sore from the computational chloride of the power pool, and my arms are sore from reaching for my wallet so much.

Admittedly I had a great time on this wonderful eBay shopping spree, but like all great things that are not tied to emotional commitments or personal passion, it must end. Through this time, I have learned that anything can be bought on eBay at a cheap price, and that I have a great job with which to pay for these things, but now I realize something else that is more important. I don't NEED any of these things to be satisfied with my life.

This eBay shopping spree was not a way to make me feel like life was worth living. It just accentuated my already pleasurable state of mind. Every item I bidded on has been a blast to experience, and no purchase has made me question why I spent the money.

Every purchase was worth the it, but I also believe in balance. So, even though I enjoy cruising through the deals, I think I will put some breaks on the car for now, take a deep breath, and enjoy every game, gadget, and gizmo I bought off of eBay before jumping back in.

Therefore, I must say good bye to the good ol' eBay for now. It was fun while it lasted, but now is the perfect time to stop my eBay buying spree, and enjoy the things I have purchased before proceeding further into the pool of payment and pleasure.

I regret nothing.

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Surveys: The Art of Natural Selection

Photo Credit: www.epcc.ed.ac.uk

My opinion is important to me. It is flexible, but firm like a river. You can interact with my ideas by swimming around in my cerebral thought life, or you could crush yourself against the innate resistance to unnecessary and forced conflict of interest. I am not a fan of arguments, and will avoid them if possible. If not possible, then the other person will wish to avoid them by the end of our confrontation.

I may sound like a harsh steward of the soul, but I am actually quite agreeable most of the time. In fact, I am usually inclined to share my opinion in a friendly, upbeat manner. Telling people what I think is one of my favorite pastimes, and I always feel a tinge of remorse when others leave prematurely from the conversation. But oh well. Not everyone is open to receiving my opinions. That much is understandable, I guess, since I have not yet attempted to put myself in their shoes. Their shoes would probably be too small and uncomfortable for someone like myself, but I would sincerely try if I felt it was necessary.

But, there was one recipient who was eternally grateful for my insights. Inside of the digital dimensions of the world wide web, I found a true companion with which to share my undeniably important opinions on life. All I had to do was share what I knew and believed to be true to this entity, and I would be duly rewarded. It was a great idea, and from the moment I heard about it I was on board and ready to set sail into the sea of surveys.

Little did I know there were no winds on these waters. My first survey arrived in my email shortly after signing up, and I was excited. I eagerly clicked on the link they provided to continue to the questions, and more importantly, to the rewards at the end of the questions. My eyes feasted upon the information laid out in front of me. I was on question one of about twenty, and it was one I could easily answer. I analyzed the question, making sure it wasn't a trick. Once my probing mind was satisfied, I clicked on the obvious answer. Male.

The next question went by just as smoothly. White/Caucasian. Hey, I was getting somewhere! I clicked the next button and watched as more bubbles appeared before me, waiting to be filled by a the swift click of a mouse. Yes, I do like swimming thank you. Uhm, I never watch Home and Gardening shows. Yes, I do think it's important to wash your hands after handling dirty objects. And...I don't know how to answer that so I guess no. I didn't realize that was possible, so no. I haven't heard of that.

As the questions passed, I felt a slight dread deep in my soul. Something wasn't adding up. The questions were becoming less relevant to the ones before them, and then I saw the screen that tore me apart. After spending the past fifteen minutes giving my hard earned opinions away to the cyber survey, it revealed it's true intention. My lip quivered as the page stared at me in bitter disappointment.

A sad little man stooped over and stared at the floor, and under his depressed figure, the site said, "We're sorry, but you do not qualify for this survey." I sat back in my chair, letting the tears settle in the calm, salty pools of my eye sockets. Why me? Is my opinion not important?! I screamed at the screen and looked away, feeling betrayed.

"You told me I meant something!" I said to the little dejected figure on the screen, drooping like a weeping willow in the rain. "You said you wanted my opinion! How do I not qualify?! Am I not good enough! You know what...fine. I quit." Immediately the screen vanished into the realms of irrelevance. I was done.

How could you survey? How could you lead me on like that? I thought as I sat at the screen feeling the weight of it all. Suddenly, a glimmer of hope appeared beyond the horizon. After sulking for a few hours, another email came. It was as if the little man in the screen heard my cry and appealed to the surveys I once loved. I knew at the instant it was another chance to try again. We could start over, the survey and I, and we could live in perfect harmony. I imagined us riding off into the eternally starry night of the net.

A sigh of relief escaped my chest as I clicked on the link for another survey. Maybe this time will be different. This time I will mean something, and someone will listen to my well developed opinions. I could have an ear to listen, instead of a traveling passerby to harass. A smile crept across my lonely face as I clicked the start button. It's just you and me, precious survey.

The first question revealed itself, and I paused. Male. I thought you already knew this? White/Caucasian. Aha! It's slightly different. Yes, I do enjoy reading books. Wait, what is that supposed to mean? Oh! You want to know...wait that's kind of private. Prefer not to answer. Things were going more smoothly this time around. Maybe this was the one. The survey that would truly listen to me. These questions were just small talk, but I was ready for more in depth conversation. Come on survey, let me speak. I held my excitement and crossed my fingers as the next screen loaded.

To this day I'll never forget the feeling I had in that moment. I expected to feel an elated since of accomplishment, a sudden realization of self worth. This would have been the defining turning point in a long life of loneliness. Someone out there would listen to me! I thought as the screen finished loading. My eyes stared lifeless at the screen as my mouth returned to a clenched position. The pools in my eyes filled up with the salty reservoirs of pent up emotional expectation.

The little man on the screen seemed to shrug as it fixated on the dirt beneath it. With bold letters, the site informed me that "I did not qualify for this survey." There wasn't even a thank you, or any sign of remorse. With a cold, calculated dismissal, the survey was done with me. Even the opinions I did give were worth nothing to this vile villain. I tried to not let the survey get to me, but I felt like I was played.

To this day, the site has the tenacity to continue sending me emails to taunt me. Maybe it will work this time. Perhaps if you take THIS survey, you will be remembered for your hard earned opinions. If you take THIS SURVEY you will have a chance to win...enough.  I am tired of hearing from you. Go take a long walk off of a short line of code.

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Zit Happens

Look, we need to talk. I know that during the beginning of my hormonal development some years ago, you and your buddies had domain over my facial real estate. You didn't pay rent, you trashed the place, and you tried to encourage every female I laid eyes upon to look away because of your rude, pronounced presence on my skin. Of course, being a somewhat scientific individual, I knew that it was normal.

While my body was figuring out what to do with newly found stimuli, you decided to take your chance and infiltrate. For years I begged my body to start evicting you guys, but it was too busy realizing that women were actually attractive now, and was preoccupied with what to do with this information. So I was left alone. With a sudden strike of genius I decided to use face wash. If my body wouldn't evict you from the precious pores on my face, I would have to do it myself!

At first I believed that the burning sensation across my skin was just the infuriated cries of your forced eviction. I thought I had finally conquered the vicious, vile fluid that you trapped under the red bubble on my skin. Sadly, I was completely unaware that the cream I was using was actually helping you guys reproduce.

Within days I noticed that you invited all of your disgusting friends to join the Shuffler House party on my head, and there was nothing I could do. So I patiently waited. I scrubbed my face with soap and water for years, and after many attempts, I finally managed to succeed. With a manly roar I looked at myself in the mirror and realized that my skin could be clear, except for the beard gardens I planted during my hormonal development. But, it was a beard of magnificent beauty. I was perfectly fine that it took up my facial real estate because it raised the value and attractiveness of the property.

Years passed with only a few stragglers sneaking in to stake their miserable claim on my face. But I was unaware of the deep bitterness boiling inside of you. You were waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Those years of conquest upon the dermal landscape had you hungry for more, and you knew I was powerful. My body had finally figured out what to do with it's newly discovered powers and was settling down. In the 23rd year of developing the Shuffler Facial Property...you came in the night.

What once was a clear, magnificently bearded landscape was now faced with a clearly developed threat. Out of all the space upon my face you could've occupied you knew where to strike. In the morning, I saw that the damage had already been done. You didn't take hold on one of the two cheeks, which were perfectly acceptable places to take your stand, nor did you occupy the bridge of my nose, which is thinner but more pronounced. No, you had to take the space most visible to other human beings. The middle...of my forehead.

Not only was this particular place inconvenient, it was also an unavoidable area upon my face. I no longer had a "good side", because of your strategic placement. Turning my face one way or another would only accentuate that side of your encampment. Well played, zit, well played.

You may have found a way to sneak back into my life, but I haven't forgotten how to get rid of you. I did it once, and I will gladly do it again. With the power of a well placed suds bomb, you will dry out and die. Mark my words, oh zit. Your days on my face are numbered...and you will never see the light of day from my forehead again.

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Risk: The Game of Champions

Photo Credit: Parker Bros and Hasbro

I gathered my plastic pieces and lined them up on the outskirts of Earth's atmosphere. My eyes looked upon the face of the continents as I imagined the whole world being mine. Two other armies entered the battle plans, as they dropped soldiers down on different countries one by one. Finally, my turn came.

I chose the eastern United States. My soldier knew the land and settled down. He knew what he must do. After time passed the whole world was covered in three dictator's military. The green armies were steadily taking over Asia and Australia, but one man stood in Japan, waiting for his chance to spread his influence across the known world. Sadly, he never got that chance.

Other Asian countries got involved and gathered a plastic platoon to attack the island. My man was brave. He fended off a few, leaving them in melted heaps as he fired upon them from across the ocean. He called on the help of Godzilla continuously as he rolled the faithful white die of defense. Suddenly, as the block of fate turned, he realized something dreadful. The number on it was low...too low. With a miniscule scream he collapsed to the dirt, and other armies traveled across the blue dotted line bridge to take over the one Asian country my red army had.

I slammed my fist in frustration as I looked in the eyes of my two worthy opponents. This...means...war. The next person took Africa and South America from me in one turn. Even though my men fought valiantly, the yellow invaders took over with a fierce aggression rarely seen in the world of toys.

After minutes passed like hours, it was my turn. With a swift look of the board, I strategically placed my allotted men. They quickly entered earth's atmosphere and landed in North America. I knew one thing was certain. They may be able to take Japan, Africa, and South America from me...but no one would take AMERICA.

With all of my might I rolled the dice with strategic aggression. Some people say that my armies won over North America by luck, but I believe that my pure strategic mind won the battle. I had been trained in dice rolling for years in the military academy, and the subtle nuances to me had become standard practice. Each flick of the wrist was a calculated effort to bring up the highest possible number...the elusive 6.

Within minutes my powerful army had taken over all of North America, and I celebrated. America was mine. Many turns passed after that, with the yellow and green armies battling it out for superiority on the planet. My men just chilled in America, watching the war unfold. I knew that America would not be taken by the men of yellow and green militaristic disposition.

Finally, the universe was about to end. The apocalypse drew near. All light started to slowly fade as we decided to end the war. A smile crept across my face as I looked at the final state of the world. The green men had taken over almost all of the world, with the yellow invaders holding onto South America. I only cared about one thing.

Friend: "Well I guess we will have to call a truce, we must leave now."
Friend 2: "Who won?"

I looked at them and smirked....

Me: "America won!!! Oh YEAHHHHHHH!!!!"

I recommend playing Risk to anyone who likes to conquer the world and kill your friends...ok that sounds a little more morbid than I intended...:P

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