Agh! The internet burns!
Thursday, August 14, 2003
Ya-ha! Victory is mine! I successfully transplanted all my stuff onto the new motherboard in the new case. I didn't buy the case I pictured in my previous post, but I bought a similar knock-off. It was a hell of a lot cheaper. And it looks like this:
And, because I'm sure you're asking yourself this right now, here's what it looks like in the dark:
It pretty much rocks. If only I could afford a t1 to give it the bandwith it so richly deserves.
Oh, and make sure you get yourself checked out for the blaster worm. It's hit almost everyone I know including me. The quick and dirty way to check it to bring up the application monitor and look to see if 'msblast.exe' is running. If it is, you got it. Go to the sarc page on it to download a very effective removal tool. Then go to the Microsoft page to get the patch. Unless of course, you're using a mac or running linux. Then just continue along, nothing to see here.
And, because I'm sure you're asking yourself this right now, here's what it looks like in the dark:
It pretty much rocks. If only I could afford a t1 to give it the bandwith it so richly deserves.
Oh, and make sure you get yourself checked out for the blaster worm. It's hit almost everyone I know including me. The quick and dirty way to check it to bring up the application monitor and look to see if 'msblast.exe' is running. If it is, you got it. Go to the sarc page on it to download a very effective removal tool. Then go to the Microsoft page to get the patch. Unless of course, you're using a mac or running linux. Then just continue along, nothing to see here.
Monday, August 11, 2003
Okay, so I've only played about 10 minutes of the Colin Mcrae demo. Drunk. And it was the demo on those discs that they give you as punishment for going into Best Buy. What the hell is it with the demo's on these things? It's like they take the shittiest part of the game, ,hide all the doors, cripple the control scheme, fuck it up some more, and stick it in front of poor naive you, expecting you will buy it because you feel like a retard admitting to the Best Buy sales zombie that you couldn't last for more that 4 seconds in it.
But I digress.
You see, the thing is, even among these shitty examples of otherwise decent games, Colin McRae sucks. It sucks purple baboon ass. It seems mostly to involve running into hedges. And not in the fun, Carmegeddon, smashing-hedges-to-paste way. No, I mean in the I've-got-my-nose-stuck-in-a-hedge-and-can't-get-my-wheels-to-turn-why-the-hell-am-I-playing-a-game-that-pisses-me-off- more-than-rush-hour-with-a-hangover way. Oh, but wait, that's not all. You see, barely ever being able to go above 10 miles and hour and getting jammed in shrubbery is only the beggining. You also get some sort of Scottish incarnation of the computer from 2001 giving you indecipherable instructions, just to make you feel like even more of a total tool.
Here's my vague memory of what the game went like:
Me: Jesus, what the hell kind of race is this? What am I, lost in a parking lot?
Scottish Nutjob: Five left, twelve doon.
Me: Huh? What's that mean? Am I in someone's back yard? Is there going to be lawn gnomes I have to avoid?
Scottish Nutjob: Thirteen-nine, ack to the feld.
Me: Fuck, am I hallucinating? I think he's telling me to fly to a better place. Jeez, I hope he's telling me to stick the front of this stupid little car into a hedge, because that's what I'm doing.
Scottish Nutjob: Freeeg glargh flwnt. Mowgh heiny fallulah.
Me: Did you hear that!? He just told me to kill everyone in this room!! He's trying to get me to murder everybody! WHAT KIND OF FUCKING RACE NEVER LETS YOU GET OVER TEN MILES AN HOUR!!!!
Sure I know you're saying "Well, you just don't understand what a cool sport Rally is." Maybe. But I don't think so for several reasons. First, I sure love them golf games, and I'd rather be eaten by dingoes than attend a golf match in any capacity. Second, if you tell me I don't understand a sport that consists of driving around dirt roads at ten miles an hour while trying not to go to fast, than I'd say understanding isn't the problem. In fact, let's get that straight. The main challenge of this 'racing' game is to NOT GO TO FAST.
When I was growing up, there was a kid in my neighborhood whose mom seemed to take a special interest in how safe or unsafe the activities of all the neighborhood children were. Like she'd say: "Make sure you kids don't run too fast, you might fall down!" or "Make sure not to get any of that dirt on you, it's dirty!" or "Try not to breathe so much, they get at you through the air!". Always assuming he's not in a home for people who believe they get at you through the air, this is probably the kind of sport his mom would want him involved in. "Don't drive to fast in the race son, and make sure that there are plenty of luscious green hedges to impede any progress you might make!"
I'm raising a glass to him. And dumping it on this disc.
But I digress.
You see, the thing is, even among these shitty examples of otherwise decent games, Colin McRae sucks. It sucks purple baboon ass. It seems mostly to involve running into hedges. And not in the fun, Carmegeddon, smashing-hedges-to-paste way. No, I mean in the I've-got-my-nose-stuck-in-a-hedge-and-can't-get-my-wheels-to-turn-why-the-hell-am-I-playing-a-game-that-pisses-me-off- more-than-rush-hour-with-a-hangover way. Oh, but wait, that's not all. You see, barely ever being able to go above 10 miles and hour and getting jammed in shrubbery is only the beggining. You also get some sort of Scottish incarnation of the computer from 2001 giving you indecipherable instructions, just to make you feel like even more of a total tool.
Here's my vague memory of what the game went like:
Me: Jesus, what the hell kind of race is this? What am I, lost in a parking lot?
Scottish Nutjob: Five left, twelve doon.
Me: Huh? What's that mean? Am I in someone's back yard? Is there going to be lawn gnomes I have to avoid?
Scottish Nutjob: Thirteen-nine, ack to the feld.
Me: Fuck, am I hallucinating? I think he's telling me to fly to a better place. Jeez, I hope he's telling me to stick the front of this stupid little car into a hedge, because that's what I'm doing.
Scottish Nutjob: Freeeg glargh flwnt. Mowgh heiny fallulah.
Me: Did you hear that!? He just told me to kill everyone in this room!! He's trying to get me to murder everybody! WHAT KIND OF FUCKING RACE NEVER LETS YOU GET OVER TEN MILES AN HOUR!!!!
Sure I know you're saying "Well, you just don't understand what a cool sport Rally is." Maybe. But I don't think so for several reasons. First, I sure love them golf games, and I'd rather be eaten by dingoes than attend a golf match in any capacity. Second, if you tell me I don't understand a sport that consists of driving around dirt roads at ten miles an hour while trying not to go to fast, than I'd say understanding isn't the problem. In fact, let's get that straight. The main challenge of this 'racing' game is to NOT GO TO FAST.
When I was growing up, there was a kid in my neighborhood whose mom seemed to take a special interest in how safe or unsafe the activities of all the neighborhood children were. Like she'd say: "Make sure you kids don't run too fast, you might fall down!" or "Make sure not to get any of that dirt on you, it's dirty!" or "Try not to breathe so much, they get at you through the air!". Always assuming he's not in a home for people who believe they get at you through the air, this is probably the kind of sport his mom would want him involved in. "Don't drive to fast in the race son, and make sure that there are plenty of luscious green hedges to impede any progress you might make!"
I'm raising a glass to him. And dumping it on this disc.
