Another year, and yes, another retarded video! Check out our latest and greatest lip sync RIGHT HERE (or better yet, in high quality on youtube!) Don't forget to comment and rate (5 stars, of course :P)
I'll have a real post coming in the next week or so, so stay tuned!
-Funkin' out
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Dune
Hey guys...I'm BACK! Ha. Okay, so it's been a while (what? Almost a year? Noooo...) since I've graced the interwebs with my stunning presence, and for that I truly am sorry. I hope you'll be able to find it within the infinite depths of your hearts to forgive my absence; really, I have no excuse. Well, I might a have a bit of an excuse: nobody seemed to CARE anymore. I mean, really, did you see the comment pages for my last couple of blog posts? Laughable.
Anyway, I hope restore interest in the once highly esteemed Lair of Funk with a few new awesome updates, the first of which being a review to the ultimate sci-fi epic: Dune. Seeing as how I wrote this for school, the tone might be a tad more drab (assonance, anyone?) than usual, but I wasn't about to go rewriting it just for the sake of the blog. So deal with it. Also, I hope to find the time within the next few weeks to give my own take on the recent events of E3 (I've done it for the past 2 years, how could I break the habit now?), so y'all can look forward to that. And I just might have a few other tricks up my sleeve. I dunno, you'll just have to wait and see.
Right then:
Dune - Science Fiction's Supreme Masterpiece
Science fiction has always been a genre of heated controversy. Many adore it—find themselves lost in its intricate alternate universes, in the sharp and imaginative subtleties that hint at a world which sidles along the edge of our own reality. Then there are those who are not quite so taken with the style. They scoff at its implausibility and wonder why anyone could be so engrossed in a subject that bears so little relevance in the real world. In this, Frank Herbert’s Dune can be considered much more than the average science fiction novel. While the book tells an inventive and surreal story holding true to the traditional conventions of its genre, it also conveys several deeper elements that cement it firmly in the realm of great literature.
It is soon revealed that the Duke’s suspicions are not unfounded. The conniving Harkonnens have devised a plot to bring about the utter destruction of the Atreides, and quickly set it in motion with the help of a traitor. All of these events occur within the first volume of the novel, and essentially set up the foundations on which the protagonist, Paul, is able to establish himself as a messianic figure to the native people of Arrakis, the Fremen.
Throughout the novel, Paul, who is soon known across the universe as the prophet “Muad’Dib,” struggles with the internal conflictions to which his newfound powers give rise. As friends become worshippers and the stories of Muad-Dib become legend, Paul realizes the terrible possibilities of his leadership. Each minor character in the story has his own part to play in the developing of Muad’Dib, and the other major characters are each given significant depth without distracting from the novel’s primary focus on Paul.
-Funkin' out
ASLO, BROOK ISS AWESUM 4 SHOWWING MEE DOON!!!!!11!!1!1
Anyway, I hope restore interest in the once highly esteemed Lair of Funk with a few new awesome updates, the first of which being a review to the ultimate sci-fi epic: Dune. Seeing as how I wrote this for school, the tone might be a tad more drab (assonance, anyone?) than usual, but I wasn't about to go rewriting it just for the sake of the blog. So deal with it. Also, I hope to find the time within the next few weeks to give my own take on the recent events of E3 (I've done it for the past 2 years, how could I break the habit now?), so y'all can look forward to that. And I just might have a few other tricks up my sleeve. I dunno, you'll just have to wait and see.
Right then:
Dune - Science Fiction's Supreme Masterpiece
Science fiction has always been a genre of heated controversy. Many adore it—find themselves lost in its intricate alternate universes, in the sharp and imaginative subtleties that hint at a world which sidles along the edge of our own reality. Then there are those who are not quite so taken with the style. They scoff at its implausibility and wonder why anyone could be so engrossed in a subject that bears so little relevance in the real world. In this, Frank Herbert’s Dune can be considered much more than the average science fiction novel. While the book tells an inventive and surreal story holding true to the traditional conventions of its genre, it also conveys several deeper elements that cement it firmly in the realm of great literature.
It is soon revealed that the Duke’s suspicions are not unfounded. The conniving Harkonnens have devised a plot to bring about the utter destruction of the Atreides, and quickly set it in motion with the help of a traitor. All of these events occur within the first volume of the novel, and essentially set up the foundations on which the protagonist, Paul, is able to establish himself as a messianic figure to the native people of Arrakis, the Fremen.
Throughout the novel, Paul, who is soon known across the universe as the prophet “Muad’Dib,” struggles with the internal conflictions to which his newfound powers give rise. As friends become worshippers and the stories of Muad-Dib become legend, Paul realizes the terrible possibilities of his leadership. Each minor character in the story has his own part to play in the developing of Muad’Dib, and the other major characters are each given significant depth without distracting from the novel’s primary focus on Paul.
If anything negative can be said of the book, it would be on the abruptness of its conclusion. The final pages left me with a feeling of dissatisfaction, as if Herbert had deliberately refrained from the tying up of several loose ends. This may have been due to the fact that he planned on writing a sequel, and indeed, he ended up writing quite a few.
Apart from this minor blemish, Dune is exquisitely well-written, perfectly blending elements of traditional science fiction and fantasy into one epic masterpiece. Herbert’s ability to create a living, breathing world is remarkable, rivaled only by the likes of Tolkien himself. For this, and for countless other reasons, it is not hard to see why so many claim Dune to be among the greatest novels ever written.-Funkin' out
ASLO, BROOK ISS AWESUM 4 SHOWWING MEE DOON!!!!!11!!1!1
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Mamma Mia!
You've waited a long time. Patiently, yet eagerly, you've anticipated the arrival of my newest masterpiece. Fortunately, you will wait no more. Before you now is the most recent installment in my ever-increasing collection of ridiculously embarrassing lip syncs parody videos; do not fret: this one should be the most ridiculous and embarrassing yet. Straight from the soundtrack of the new musical currently playing in theatres across the country, I present...Mamma Mia!
Leave a comment on the YouTube page ;)
Leave a comment on the YouTube page ;)
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
The Problem with Nintendo: A Rant
Commence rant.
Ah, Nintendo. Once the greatest video game producer in the world, father of such classic franchises as Super Mario Bros., The Legend of Zelda, and Metroid, to name a few. What has become of you? Have you turned your back on those devoted fans who so lovingly and blindly followed you to the brink of destruction and back? Is this how you treat your most loyal and caring followers? Why, Nintendo? Why?
The big N.
I hate to be a drama queen, but Nintendo's E3 briefing really opened my eyes to the company's stark disregard for the once cherished hardcore gamer. No longer does the company produce video games, but rather cost efficient, plot-less, challenge-less, unintelligent, mini game-fueled drivel. Instead of devoting E3 to the hardcore audience--the ONLY audience paying attention to E3 in the first place--Nintendo has once again catered its presentation to the "casual" crowd. Yes, Nintendo, I understand you want to make money. I understand you want to be popular. These ambitions, however, should never take precedent over the production of quality entertainment.
Even back in the days of the GameCube, when everyone thought Nintendo was on its final breath, the company rolled out a bevy of great titles--genuine NINTENDO games--not disc after disc of mindless mini game insanity. Back then, the hardcore fans were what kept Nintendo from drowning in the wake of the more popular PS2 and Xbox. Now, Nintendo stubbornly refuses to return the favor. It's like the loser friend you hung out with in high school because he was so pathetic, you knew he would always be there for you--until, via some ridiculous stroke of luck, he became popular and forgot you ever existed. What a douche.
Nintendo's 2008 E3 press conference was the biggest waste of time in my life (which is saying something). Clocking in at just over an hour, it was quite a bit shorter than Microsoft and Sony's briefings, yet somehow it still felt too long. This was probably due to the lack of any significant or remotely interesting information. In fact, the single most exciting revelation during the entire show was the acknowledgment that the studios responsible for the Mario and Zelda series were working...on something. Oh, thanks Nintendo, it's good to hear you aren't paying them to sit around and scratch their collective ass.
We're busy.
Not one hardcore game was announced. More than that, not one hardcore game was even showcased. The first fifteen minutes of the presentation were devoted to a middle aged women talking about the broken wrist she suffered on a trip to Whistler with her kids. Big whoop. Oh wait--it's a segue to Shaun White's new snowboarding game? Big whoop. What happened to the Regginator? Oh, here he is. Except, the Reggie we once new, the Reggie who kicked ass and took names, is dead. This Reggie is wholeheartedly focused on the casual, "non-gamer". But that's the problem, isn't it? They NON- gamers. Does it really make sense to devote the biggest video game event of the year to people who DON'T PLAY VIDEO GAMES? "Yes," says Ninty, "How else would we make bucket loads of moolah?" Well, you could start by satisfying the one demographic (yes, we are a demographic now) that actually cares about the games you produce.
I'm not saying Nintendo should have completely focused on the hardcore gamer. I realize we are a dwindling market in contrast to the millions of moms and grannies out there, just waiting to get their game on. Regardless, I'm sure a few minutes could have been spared to provide those frustrated core-gamers with a glimmer of hope; something to show us we haven't been forgotten. As it stands, the most intensive video game experience found at Nintendo's conference was Animal Crossing. That's right. Animal Crossing. Most epic game of E3 2008. You know something's wrong when...
Hardcore? Me thinks not.
As I sat in front of my computer, bored out of my skull, one thing kept me from falling into a deep, death-like slumber: the hope of that one, final surprise at the end of the show, the moment when Miyamoto walks out on stage, sword and shield in hand, announcing the one game we've all been waiting for. But that moment never came. There will be no Zelda. No Mario. No revitalized Kid Icarus. Not even a Pikmin or a Kirby.
No, the big surprise of E3 '08 was...wait for it...Wii Music. This pathetic excuse for a music game, which provides zero challenge, and zero room for creativity, is neither hard core, nor is it much of a surprise. In fact, it was all but announced back in E3 of 2006 (I think it was 2006) when Miyamoto conducted a digital orchestra with a Wii-mote conductor's baton, and it's hardly a music/rhythm game at all. Instead of following a beat or pressing the right button, you simply...do nothing. Essentially the game works like this: you want to play a sax? Press any button. Piano? Wave your magic wand in imitation of a pianist. Guitar? Same deal. No matter what you do, you can't screw up; the music is preset, and all you have to do is wave you hand. Duct tape a Wii-mote to his paw, and Fido could play this game.
'Moto jammin' on his fake sax.
The only announcement worthy of any real attention was that of the Motion Plus accessory, a little unit you can plug into the end of your Wii remote to enhance its motion sensing capabilities, allowing games to finally provide true 1:1 control. But isn't this something that really ought to have been included in the original Wii-mote design? Instead, it's now an add-on us loyal fans are expected to pay for out of our own pockets. On you, Nintendo, I call shenanigans. If your original design wasn't what it was supposed to be, shouldn't you be paying for the upgrade, not your customers?
Despite all this, I still try to have faith in my beloved Nintendo. In my heart, I believe they will pull through and deliver the great games they're known for, even if a pathetic E3 performance like this makes it hard to retain my enthusiasm. Please, Nintendo, don't forget about your fans, the geeks that always stood up for you, even when you decided to mass-produce purple lunch box machines.
End rant.
Right, so I delayed the Metal Gear Solid Retrospect for a little while, mostly because I got bored of writing it. So I'll save that for a rainy day. In the mean time I might write up a few more posts on E3, since it's current and seems to be receiving the majority of my attention right now. So look forward to that. Yeah. See y'all then.
-Funkin' out.
Ah, Nintendo. Once the greatest video game producer in the world, father of such classic franchises as Super Mario Bros., The Legend of Zelda, and Metroid, to name a few. What has become of you? Have you turned your back on those devoted fans who so lovingly and blindly followed you to the brink of destruction and back? Is this how you treat your most loyal and caring followers? Why, Nintendo? Why?
The big N.I hate to be a drama queen, but Nintendo's E3 briefing really opened my eyes to the company's stark disregard for the once cherished hardcore gamer. No longer does the company produce video games, but rather cost efficient, plot-less, challenge-less, unintelligent, mini game-fueled drivel. Instead of devoting E3 to the hardcore audience--the ONLY audience paying attention to E3 in the first place--Nintendo has once again catered its presentation to the "casual" crowd. Yes, Nintendo, I understand you want to make money. I understand you want to be popular. These ambitions, however, should never take precedent over the production of quality entertainment.
Even back in the days of the GameCube, when everyone thought Nintendo was on its final breath, the company rolled out a bevy of great titles--genuine NINTENDO games--not disc after disc of mindless mini game insanity. Back then, the hardcore fans were what kept Nintendo from drowning in the wake of the more popular PS2 and Xbox. Now, Nintendo stubbornly refuses to return the favor. It's like the loser friend you hung out with in high school because he was so pathetic, you knew he would always be there for you--until, via some ridiculous stroke of luck, he became popular and forgot you ever existed. What a douche.
Nintendo's 2008 E3 press conference was the biggest waste of time in my life (which is saying something). Clocking in at just over an hour, it was quite a bit shorter than Microsoft and Sony's briefings, yet somehow it still felt too long. This was probably due to the lack of any significant or remotely interesting information. In fact, the single most exciting revelation during the entire show was the acknowledgment that the studios responsible for the Mario and Zelda series were working...on something. Oh, thanks Nintendo, it's good to hear you aren't paying them to sit around and scratch their collective ass.
We're busy.Not one hardcore game was announced. More than that, not one hardcore game was even showcased. The first fifteen minutes of the presentation were devoted to a middle aged women talking about the broken wrist she suffered on a trip to Whistler with her kids. Big whoop. Oh wait--it's a segue to Shaun White's new snowboarding game? Big whoop. What happened to the Regginator? Oh, here he is. Except, the Reggie we once new, the Reggie who kicked ass and took names, is dead. This Reggie is wholeheartedly focused on the casual, "non-gamer". But that's the problem, isn't it? They NON- gamers. Does it really make sense to devote the biggest video game event of the year to people who DON'T PLAY VIDEO GAMES? "Yes," says Ninty, "How else would we make bucket loads of moolah?" Well, you could start by satisfying the one demographic (yes, we are a demographic now) that actually cares about the games you produce.
I'm not saying Nintendo should have completely focused on the hardcore gamer. I realize we are a dwindling market in contrast to the millions of moms and grannies out there, just waiting to get their game on. Regardless, I'm sure a few minutes could have been spared to provide those frustrated core-gamers with a glimmer of hope; something to show us we haven't been forgotten. As it stands, the most intensive video game experience found at Nintendo's conference was Animal Crossing. That's right. Animal Crossing. Most epic game of E3 2008. You know something's wrong when...
Hardcore? Me thinks not.As I sat in front of my computer, bored out of my skull, one thing kept me from falling into a deep, death-like slumber: the hope of that one, final surprise at the end of the show, the moment when Miyamoto walks out on stage, sword and shield in hand, announcing the one game we've all been waiting for. But that moment never came. There will be no Zelda. No Mario. No revitalized Kid Icarus. Not even a Pikmin or a Kirby.
No, the big surprise of E3 '08 was...wait for it...Wii Music. This pathetic excuse for a music game, which provides zero challenge, and zero room for creativity, is neither hard core, nor is it much of a surprise. In fact, it was all but announced back in E3 of 2006 (I think it was 2006) when Miyamoto conducted a digital orchestra with a Wii-mote conductor's baton, and it's hardly a music/rhythm game at all. Instead of following a beat or pressing the right button, you simply...do nothing. Essentially the game works like this: you want to play a sax? Press any button. Piano? Wave your magic wand in imitation of a pianist. Guitar? Same deal. No matter what you do, you can't screw up; the music is preset, and all you have to do is wave you hand. Duct tape a Wii-mote to his paw, and Fido could play this game.
'Moto jammin' on his fake sax.The only announcement worthy of any real attention was that of the Motion Plus accessory, a little unit you can plug into the end of your Wii remote to enhance its motion sensing capabilities, allowing games to finally provide true 1:1 control. But isn't this something that really ought to have been included in the original Wii-mote design? Instead, it's now an add-on us loyal fans are expected to pay for out of our own pockets. On you, Nintendo, I call shenanigans. If your original design wasn't what it was supposed to be, shouldn't you be paying for the upgrade, not your customers?
Despite all this, I still try to have faith in my beloved Nintendo. In my heart, I believe they will pull through and deliver the great games they're known for, even if a pathetic E3 performance like this makes it hard to retain my enthusiasm. Please, Nintendo, don't forget about your fans, the geeks that always stood up for you, even when you decided to mass-produce purple lunch box machines.
End rant.
Right, so I delayed the Metal Gear Solid Retrospect for a little while, mostly because I got bored of writing it. So I'll save that for a rainy day. In the mean time I might write up a few more posts on E3, since it's current and seems to be receiving the majority of my attention right now. So look forward to that. Yeah. See y'all then.
-Funkin' out.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Metal Gear Solid: A Retrospect -- Part 1
Metal Gear Solid is more than just a video game franchise.
It is the brainchild of genius developer Hideo Kojima, his vision of what a video game should be. Not a frantic shooter set thousands of light years from Earth on a massive ring, nor a happy-go-lucky tromp through the sewers of a mushroom infested kingdom, but a perfect combination of engrossing stealth action and striking cinematic prestige.
You may have noticed the new look for my blog. Meet Solid Snake. He will be the face of the Lair of Funk for the next while. Snake is the heart of Metal Gear Solid; the brave and daring hero any good story needs to truly capture its audience. Starting with this article, and continuing throughout the next few weeks, I'll provide some insight into the life of Snake and his incredible franchise, from inception to conclusion.
So without further ado, I present...
Metal Gear Solid: A Retrospect
It was 1986. While the rest of the world was infatuated with the latest Michael Jackson records, Rubik's Cubes, and tighter-than-socially-acceptable leg wear, an aspiring young Japanese video game designer found himself working in the MSX computer software division of Konami. His name was Hideo Kojima, and little did he know his own epic creation would revolutionize action gaming, garner millions of rabid fans, and inspire a legacy spanning two decades (and counting).
Kojima's first few titles weren't exactly successful. A strange penguin adventure, followed by the hideously titled "Lost Warld" [sic] were not what one would call successful. He wasn't well educated in game design, in fact, he had considered becoming a film maker instead. It was the achievements of esteemed developers like Shigeru Miyamoto that led him to the gaming industry, and he might have left Konami if not for that inspiration.
Luckily, film making was not in the cards for Kojima-san, and soon he had developed his breakaway hit: Metal Gear. Launching in 1987 on the MSX2, it followed the exploits of young FOXHOUND agent Solid Snake, and revolutionized action gaming as it was then known. At the time, gaming was all about action, guns, shooting, and pixelated explosions (...times have changed, haven't they?), with the odd tubby plumber or green clad warrior saving a princess or two. But the premise was the same: shoot first, ask questions later. Metal Gear offered something new.
Being sneaky was something developers had never thought of before. It was bold; it was fresh; it was a risk. But a risk that payed off. Instead of rushing into the field guns-blazing, players had the option (well, not so much option as requirement) to infiltrate the enemy's location in a more stealthy manner. Sure, you had a gun, but it was really a last resort; you'd never find enough ammunition to kill everyone anyway. So players quietly sneaked through the enemies' lair, called "Outer Heaven" in an attempt to rescue another FOXHOUND operative: Grey Fox.
Grey Fox was assigned to the independent state Outer Heaven to investigate rumours of WMD production, but hadn't been heard from since. It was up to Snake to infiltrate the enemy's HQ, rescue Grey Fox, and discover the truth about Outer Heaven. On the orders of Big Boss, the commanding officer of FOXHOUND, Snake crept his way past insurmountable odds and fought through innumerable battles, armed with only a sneaking suit and a pack of smokes, until he finally found his fellow operative. Grey Fox then revealed Outer Heaven's big secret: a mechanized, nuclear-equipped walking tank, codenamed Metal Gear. Snake raced to the core of the base, where the ultimate showdown between the young agent and the bipedal behemoth took place, ending in a stunning victory for our stealthy hero.
But the game wasn't over yet.
It turned out the leader and founder of Outer Heaven was none other than Solid Snake's own C.O.: Big Boss. In one final battle, Snake fought and defeated his mentor, escaping the installation before it self-destructed. Did this mean the end of "Big Boss"? In a final message, the corrupt commander vowed, "Solid Snake...Someday, I'll get even with you."
What did this final transmission mean? It was a mystery.
In honour of tomorrow's historical release of one of the most ridiculously hyped video games of all time--Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots-- I will continue this epic multi-part retrospect into the coming weeks, ultimately leading up to my final review of MGS4 (provided, of course, that I manage to actually obtain a Playstation 3 to play it with). Let the anticipation begin!
-Funkin' out
It is the brainchild of genius developer Hideo Kojima, his vision of what a video game should be. Not a frantic shooter set thousands of light years from Earth on a massive ring, nor a happy-go-lucky tromp through the sewers of a mushroom infested kingdom, but a perfect combination of engrossing stealth action and striking cinematic prestige.
You may have noticed the new look for my blog. Meet Solid Snake. He will be the face of the Lair of Funk for the next while. Snake is the heart of Metal Gear Solid; the brave and daring hero any good story needs to truly capture its audience. Starting with this article, and continuing throughout the next few weeks, I'll provide some insight into the life of Snake and his incredible franchise, from inception to conclusion.
So without further ado, I present...
Metal Gear Solid: A Retrospect
It was 1986. While the rest of the world was infatuated with the latest Michael Jackson records, Rubik's Cubes, and tighter-than-socially-acceptable leg wear, an aspiring young Japanese video game designer found himself working in the MSX computer software division of Konami. His name was Hideo Kojima, and little did he know his own epic creation would revolutionize action gaming, garner millions of rabid fans, and inspire a legacy spanning two decades (and counting).
Kojima's first few titles weren't exactly successful. A strange penguin adventure, followed by the hideously titled "Lost Warld" [sic] were not what one would call successful. He wasn't well educated in game design, in fact, he had considered becoming a film maker instead. It was the achievements of esteemed developers like Shigeru Miyamoto that led him to the gaming industry, and he might have left Konami if not for that inspiration.
Luckily, film making was not in the cards for Kojima-san, and soon he had developed his breakaway hit: Metal Gear. Launching in 1987 on the MSX2, it followed the exploits of young FOXHOUND agent Solid Snake, and revolutionized action gaming as it was then known. At the time, gaming was all about action, guns, shooting, and pixelated explosions (...times have changed, haven't they?), with the odd tubby plumber or green clad warrior saving a princess or two. But the premise was the same: shoot first, ask questions later. Metal Gear offered something new.
Being sneaky was something developers had never thought of before. It was bold; it was fresh; it was a risk. But a risk that payed off. Instead of rushing into the field guns-blazing, players had the option (well, not so much option as requirement) to infiltrate the enemy's location in a more stealthy manner. Sure, you had a gun, but it was really a last resort; you'd never find enough ammunition to kill everyone anyway. So players quietly sneaked through the enemies' lair, called "Outer Heaven" in an attempt to rescue another FOXHOUND operative: Grey Fox.
Grey Fox was assigned to the independent state Outer Heaven to investigate rumours of WMD production, but hadn't been heard from since. It was up to Snake to infiltrate the enemy's HQ, rescue Grey Fox, and discover the truth about Outer Heaven. On the orders of Big Boss, the commanding officer of FOXHOUND, Snake crept his way past insurmountable odds and fought through innumerable battles, armed with only a sneaking suit and a pack of smokes, until he finally found his fellow operative. Grey Fox then revealed Outer Heaven's big secret: a mechanized, nuclear-equipped walking tank, codenamed Metal Gear. Snake raced to the core of the base, where the ultimate showdown between the young agent and the bipedal behemoth took place, ending in a stunning victory for our stealthy hero.
But the game wasn't over yet.
It turned out the leader and founder of Outer Heaven was none other than Solid Snake's own C.O.: Big Boss. In one final battle, Snake fought and defeated his mentor, escaping the installation before it self-destructed. Did this mean the end of "Big Boss"? In a final message, the corrupt commander vowed, "Solid Snake...Someday, I'll get even with you."
What did this final transmission mean? It was a mystery.
***
In honour of tomorrow's historical release of one of the most ridiculously hyped video games of all time--Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots-- I will continue this epic multi-part retrospect into the coming weeks, ultimately leading up to my final review of MGS4 (provided, of course, that I manage to actually obtain a Playstation 3 to play it with). Let the anticipation begin!
-Funkin' out
La quarantième entrée
Yes, this is my 40th blog post. Why is the title in French, you ask? Because of the theme of this post, of course!
I recently made this video with my two (awesome) nieces as part of a school French project. It's nothing special, but I think its pretty amusing. Enjoy!
Oh, and I have another post coming up in the theme of my blog's new look (in case you hadn't noticed, it's Snake. SNAAAAKE!)
-Funkin' out
I recently made this video with my two (awesome) nieces as part of a school French project. It's nothing special, but I think its pretty amusing. Enjoy!
Oh, and I have another post coming up in the theme of my blog's new look (in case you hadn't noticed, it's Snake. SNAAAAKE!)
-Funkin' out
Friday, May 16, 2008
The Great Ketchup Caper: Part One
Ketchup. I like it. It is quite tasty. The problem with ketchup, though, is that the consumption of it in mass quantities is generally frowned upon. I find this to be absurd: the fruity goodness of crushed tomatoes is both delicious and nutritious, something that cannot be said for many of Mother Nature’s oh-so-wholesome children. That’s right broccoli, I’m talking to you.
Getting back to the matter at hand (i.e. ketchup), I find the public’s generally prejudiced view of the sweet and salty commodity more than disturbing. One woman I spoke with went as far as to say: “[ketchup] is a vile and squalid substance; I would sooner bludgeon my children to death than serve them an ounce that putrid slime!” I told her in protest that should she simply taste a small portion on a tenderly baked potato crisp, her opinion of the toothsome delicacy would alter entirely. She was not convinced, rather, she attempted to stick me in the gut with a crudely improvised shank; but who was I to force my beliefs upon the mind of this learned individual?
No, the doctor’s examination of my dilemma was not entirely conclusive, and so I was inclined to resume my quest elsewhere. My next stop was the Heinz factory, located in Alderney, Wisconsin*. I hopped on first flight down to the American Mid-West, where my search for a solution to the daunting ketchup quandary would continue.
Upon my arrival at the factory, I was greeted by a Greg Hibalder, an aspiring young Heinz lobbyist. Young Greg assured me that Heinz brand tomato catsup was indeed a tasty treat, and that I need not pursue the matter further. At first I was relieved: searching for the truth was becoming a tiresome endeavour indeed; one I would likely give up were it not so fascinating. But then I realized: if I could not solve this mystery, who would carry on my legacy? For how long would our children be deprived of the ketchup knowledge they so rightly deserved? I could not give up my quest; the cause for which I stood was too noble, too great.
And so I endured.
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