Dead Pirates in the Bay + Rabid Dog Ambushes


That’s right. There are hang gliders.

I know a long time has passed since my last post. You’ll have to forgive me, life has been nothing but hectic. Let me think: there were finals, then packing to move into my off-campus apartment (where I’m living at for the majority of the summer), going back home for two weeks, doing coursework for a summer class, packing for the summer class (which entailed a two week trip to Belize, Central America), undertaking said trip, coming back to my apartment, recovering from said trip, finishing said coursework for said trip, and then preparing to start my summer job working for my university. Yeah, it’s been that kind of year.

In any case, I am here to deviate from my normal genre of topics and talk to you today about video games. You see, I’ve had precious little time to do any sort of gaming these past few months but now that my schedule has (mostly) chilled out, I’ve picked gaming back up. My go-to game of the moment (besides Watch_Dogs, of course) is Far Cry 3. Long story short, you play as a bratty rich American kid who ends up stranded on a remote Pacific island and the game chronicles your journey from wimpy rich boy to hardened killer as you search for your captive friends. The sheer expanse of Far Cry 3‘s open world is what truly drives the experience.

For example…

On my way to liberate an outpost from the brutal pirate scum who act as one of your main enemies for the duration of the game, I sped around a corner in my stolen jeep…and promptly T-boned a pirate roadblock, crushing a sentry. The remainder of the pirates piled into their jeep and began pursuing me as I drove around in circles, with them following. We continued this absurd situation for about a minute before I pulled out of the circle and drove headlong into the waters of a nearby bay, with the pirates cursing me out but still following in close pursuit. I swam to shore, pulled a 360 degree turn, and eliminated the pirates as they leapt out of the jeep to swim back to the beach.

I then stole an ATV and drove to a radio tower (in the game, climbing one and disabling a pirate signal jammer frees up previously locked sections of the map and also provides you with bonuses such as free ROCKET LAUNCHERS)! As I ascended the precarious radio tower, I pulled out my newly acquired Russian SVD Dragunov sniper rifle and took some potshots at the new pirate reinforcements who had just arrived to find out what happened to the previous pirates. You know, the ones I left floating facedown in the bay.

They noticed someone was shooting at them and began running to the base of my radio tower…and proceeded to get ambushed, and repeatedly mauled, by a horde of rabid dogs who made short work of them.

Now that is a true, off-the-cuff gaming experience. Gotta love those open world games.

I thought you should know about this experience I had. You’re welcome.

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Explorations in Theology

As a former Christian-turned-agnostic-near-atheist, I have at times been asked: “What if there is a God/afterlife and you’re wrong?”

I should reply to them with the following: “What if there isn’t a God/afterlife and you’re wrong?”

The hypothetical I want to pose to them is what if, after all the years of appeasing a higher power, following  the holy scriptures, and asserting that their religion is the One True Path to Salvation, they die and discover it was all in vain, that there is no next life?

I find that risk to be fully equal to the risk I take by choosing to not believe in a higher power. Who knows? We could all be wrong and there is a god and it is actually a giant chicken…

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The older in years I am, the more I begin to understand that so many kids in my generation are truly lost. They’ve gone astray and, lost in the whirlpool of influences that is our society at large, they drift from fad to fad, from trend to trend, clutching for something to define them. But this isn’t the answer. Labels do not define us. “Things” do not make us who we are. We’ve gone astray and many of us don’t even know it. We don’t need anything from society. We don’t need to let it buy and sell us. We’ve gone astray and lost who we are.

What defines us? Not our job. Not our family. Not our friends. Not our hair color. Not our sexual preferences. Not our religion. Not our school. Not our level of education. Not our major. Not our culture. Not our country. These all influence us, yes, but they do not define us as individuals unless we let them. It is only ourselves who let others, and other things, define who we are. Take all these influences, let them influence you, or not, as you will, but above all, even if you’ve gone astray, find your own identity.

Define yourself. Even those who have gone astray can easily find the metaphorical path. Separate yourself from societal influences and the identity others say you must adopt. By doing this, you will never let society gain control over you.

Then you’ll be just fine, because you’ll be you.

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Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

- by William Ernest Henley.

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Fantasy Is Dead

Fantasy is dead. “That is quite a bold statement,” you may say by way of reply. “It is a bold statement,” I would then say to you. “Does it make it any less true?”

The sad fact is, I believe it is true. As a genre, fantasy is in its dying throes, or at the very least, it is starting to look really rather sickly. Everything that has happened before will happen again and the fantasy genre (if you want to narrow the focus down even further, you could say I’m shining the spotlight directly on the high fantasy subgenre) exemplifies this notion. There are several reasons I use as my rationale for this aforementioned bold statement. Here goes.

While the recent (and obvious) success of The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug, being the second part in Peter Jackson’s prequel trilogy to The Lord of the Rings, may cause some to question my main points, to them I would caution jumping to conclusions too quickly. The legendarium of J.R.R. Tolkien has a built-in fan base that was only strengthened and solidified by the mass-market release of The Lord of the Rings trilogy from 2001-2003 and the massive glut of merchandise that accompanied the theatrical release of the films. The Hobbit trilogy has been able to reach out to that fan base, as I am sure the Authorities at the Studios behind the films know all too well. Taking the success of The Hobbit trilogy as rationale for the vitality of the fantasy genre may, in fact, only be erroneous.

Part of the blame for the demise of the fantasy genre can in actuality be traced back to the gargantuan success of The Lord of the Rings. Tolkien is often called the “Father of High Fantasy” and for good reason, as arguably his works created the foundation that every fantasy author has only built upon since. That’s right, you can argue that without Tolkien, Lewis, Martin, Rowling, Pratchett, Jordan, and so many others never would have achieved the widespread success they now enjoy. However, since the film trilogy, I personally have noticed there has been precious little innovation in the genre as a whole. Once the Harry Potter series concluded (and not in the manner I had wished; I hold to the opinion Rowling’s resurrection of Harry at the end of Deathly Hallows cheapened the entire series and specifically the special relationship between Harry and Voldemort), it seemed the era of fantasy had begun to fade. I believe that was the beginning of, well, the end.

Again, I have seen very little innovative ideas within the fantasy genre since the greats published their works. Yes, we did get George R.R. Martin’s Song of Ice and Fire and while I am a fan of that franchise, without Tolkien, Westeros would have never seen the White Walkers encroach on its lands. Or dragons. Or Emilia Clarke stark naked, surrounded by fire and fledgling dragons. Where was I? Ah, yes. J.K. Rowling did, as it were, pen an interesting series but much of it borrowed from what came before. This is an issue I have run into all too frequently. It has become widespread enough, this lack of innovative ideas, that although I very much want to write a fantasy novel myself, I find it nigh impossible to do so at the present time. Therefore, I have had to devise novels and place them in settings that are not secondary worlds, but rather in some related but still distinct portion of our own reality (such as a world in an alternate timeline or a reality akin to but somewhat skewed from our own). Neil Gaiman, in his seminal piece American Gods, is one of the few authors who I believe has been able to break out of this mold and write a fantasy novel totally unique in its own right while also brilliantly tying in ancient mythological pantheons from the world over.

Much can be made of similarities within plot threads in the fantasy genre and this is the reason why I feel there is a strong lack of originality inherent in the system as it stands at present. Just take a gander at Wikipedia’s page on high fantasy if you disagree. There, they succinctly and helpfully point out how similar so many stories are.  Although not the very first to take this road, Tolkien was one of the most influential and, as will be obvious below, these plot points often follow Joseph Campbell’s monomyth, as outlined in the fantastic The Hero With a Thousand Faces. The plot of Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope rips off the hero’s journey nearly wholesale, as it were, in addition to strong influences from  Akira Kurosawa’s The Hidden Fortress.

First, there is a hero, usually an orphan. He usually comes from some sort of magical or royal heritage, has a legacy, and there is most likely mysterious elements in his past (often related to a relative thought dead) and these mysterious elements will play a crucial role in the resolution at the end. This hero is often living a relatively ordinary life before the Big Bad Evil comes in, interferes with everything, and forces the hero to abandon his homestead and embark on a grand adventure.

Second, there is a wizened old man who acts as a mentor for this hero. Often, this mentor has to die for the hero to “fulfill his destiny.” A personal pet peeve of mine is when any variation of the following appears in any work of fantasy: “This is, and has always been, your destiny.” If there is a more cliché phrase in all of Fantasydom, I do not know of it.

Third, there is quite likely some sort of Dark Lord/dark power/evil god who is the main antagonist and must be felled. His destiny is likely intertwined with the hero/orphan and possibly also to that of the old man/mentor.

Fourth, if this is within the usual fantasy secondary world, there are probably tall, lithe elves who enjoy Mother Nature and probably trees, squat, gruff dwarves who enjoy mining and probably harbor grudges towards the Elvenfolk, more versatile men who are often called Rangers/Scouts/something akin to that and roam the countryside hunting evil monsters and their ilk, and so on and on. Again, much of current fantasy seems borrowed nearly directly, or indirectly, from the writings of Tolkien.

There are literally dozens more of these tropes I could ramble endlessly about (rant is a more appropriate term actually) but I do think you get the point I’m trying to burn into your consciousness.

On this same subject, when was the last time an original fantasy franchise was wildly successful on the silver screen? The Hobbit trilogy is an established franchise, of course, but there have been precious few original franchises that have been lauded as of late. The same can also be said for original science-fiction works, as the only successful ones have been already established series (e.g. Star Trek: Into Darkness and I harbor no doubts the Star Wars sequel trilogy will also be enormously popular). Avatar does not count, lest you bring that up, as it is without a doubt the most beautiful, gorgeous, yet vapid, shallow, and atrocious piece of drivel I have seen come out of Hollywood in a very long time. I would personally equate James Cameron’s Avatar with a tall, fit, blond supermodel whose IQ is 5 and possess the mental faculties of a decaying log in the depths of a jungle nestled within the most remote region of Burkina Faso. That is the extent to which I have an intense, overbearing, black hatred of that franchise.

What will resurrect fantasy or bring it back from the brink of becoming a cold, lifeless corpse? Originality. Innovation. Thinking outside the box. I wish I could tell you exactly how that could be done, but, like obscenity and pornography, I will know it when I see it. There are some bright rays of hope on the horizon; Neil Gaiman being one of them. I am sure there are more I just haven’t stumbled across yet. And although I have yet to professionally publish a novel, I do have it carved in granite on my personal bucket list: PUBLISH A NOVEL BEFORE YOU ARE 30. Nine years left to work on that…

My point is, I try to write novels I would want to read. I want to read a fantasy novel that takes the genre and rips apart all the usual tropes, jumbles them up, and then throws them in the face of the reader. Perhaps, if the idea ever comes to me, I can write that fantasy novel. Until such time, or until such time as some other enterprising storyteller embarks on that peril-laden voyage, the road goes ever on and on…


Footnote: Do not get me started on my rants about Christopher Paolini’s The Inheritance Cycle. If I have ever read a more blatant ripoff of both Tolkien and Lucas, I cannot remember it. And yes, I suffered through the incessant torment of reading all but the last novel. Paolini also has no idea how his constant overuse of deus ex machina renders his storytelling completely ineffective. 

Footnote #2: I do not, never have and very likely never will, count The Hunger Games as either a work of fantasy or science-fiction literature. Young Adult fiction is one of the worst genres I have ever had the misfortune to dabble in, I am sorry to say to you. It is tripe, intentionally watered down (no, dumbed down is more accurate), full of absurdly contrived plots, ridiculous and ludicrous dialogue, and unrealistic and atrocious characterizations, not to mention shoved-in romances that merely serve to cause the reader to ponder whether gouging out his own eyeballs would be more pleasurable than finishing the YA novel. To all YA authors: STOP. You’re demeaning yourselves and literature as a whole. They are young adults and they can read adult fiction and if they are unable to, you really don’t want to write for their demographic as it is. I rather firmly believe if authors wrote for adults and not for young adults, then those latter individuals would gravitate towards higher-quality literature rather than the lukewarm, flimsy oatmeal that currently passes as YA literature on library and bookstore shelves.

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To strive, to seek, to find

Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
- “Ulysses” by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.


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The Storyteller



There is something within good storytelling that yanks at something buried beneath our external selves. It hits home in a way few art forms do. Good storytelling inspires a yearning for adventure inside each and every one of us. It yanks that buried something to life, pushes it forcibly out the door, and tells it to go forth and find something worth telling tales about. Good storytelling appeals to the adventurer in all of us. Good storytelling inspires and when a story inspires you to undertake your own journey, then it is indeed a tale worth telling. 

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The Elite of Just Alright:

There may or may not be a retelling of Goldilocks and the Three Bears in this compilation…that may or may not be written by yours truly.

Originally posted on H.E. ELLIS:

  • Has the stress of facing the holiday season alone got you down?
  • Are you dreading another Thanksgiving Day dinner defending your recreational life choices to your staunch Republican (insert Military Branch Rank of your choice here) Father?
  • Tired of being seated between your fighter pilot/Sunday school teacher/Abercombie & Finch model big brother and your half-dead Grandmother who smells like cheese?


From the warped and creative minds of the Blogosphere’s most talented writers comes a retelling of classic fables and fairy tales, each one more twisted than the last. F*CKED UP FAIRY TALES is the first of a two eBook novella series created by THE BLOGGER COLLECTIVE, a talented group of participating authors from around the Blogosphere. It’s childhood as you never remembered it. 


F*CKED UP FAIRY TALES  is guaranteed to make your brother come out of the closet while…

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You Poor Fools

“You poor fools. God can make a cow out of a tree, but has he ever done so? Therefore show some reason why a thing is so or cease to hold it is so.” – William of Conches. 

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A Light That Never Comes

I can’t put my finger on why exactly but this is my new favorite song…

“Nah, you don’t know me.
Lightning above and a fire below me.
You cannot catch me, cannot hold me.
You cannot stop, much less control me.
When it rains, it pours.
When the floodgates open, brace your shores.
That pressure don’t care when it breaks your doors.
Say it’s all you can take, better take some more.

‘Cause I know what it’s like to test fate.
Had my shoulders pressed with that weight.
Stood up strong in spite of that hate.

Night gets darkest right before dawn.
What don’t kill you makes you more strong.
And I been waiting for it so long.

The nights go on.
Waiting for a light that never comes.
I chase the sun.
Waiting for a light that never comes.
Waiting for a light that never comes.

When I was young, they told me, they said.
Make your bed, you lie in that bed.
A king can only reign ’til instead.
There comes that day it’s “off with his head.”

Night gets darkest right before dawn.
What don’t kill you makes you more strong.
You’ll have my mercy then when you’re gone.

The nights go on.
Waiting for a light that never comes.
I chase the sun.
Waiting for a light that never comes.
Waiting for a light that never comes

And I told them:
Nah, you don’t know me.
Lightning above and a fire below me.
You cannot catch me, cannot hold me.
You cannot stop, much less control me.
When it rains, it pours.
When the floodgates open, brace your shores.
That pressure don’t care, it breaks your doors.
Say it’s all you can take, better take some more.

Waiting for a light that never comes.

The nights go on.
Waiting for a light that never comes.
I chase the sun.
Waiting for a light that never comes.
Waiting for a light that never comes.


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