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Reading some of the old entries on this thing is like going through my 14-year-old phase again. As in, physically painful to read.

But I'll be following through with my promise to keep this blog on life support by writing things here from time to time when the fancy strikes me.

Like right now, except I'm not quite sure what to write, really.

I'll come back to this later.

Learning French-A memory

You walk into the classroom, full of nervous students pawing the desks and chattering hurriedly amongst themselves. You are afraid too. Alone, you take the spot in the corner where next to you, a girl is busy flipping through the book you were to study today. As you sit down she looks up briefly and throws you a glance. You smile at her, a little awkwardly and in a way that you hope is friendly. She does not smile back.

           The teacher walks in, eyes bright, step brisk, overly cheerful, you think.

           “Welcome, class! Bonjour, tout le monde!” she chirps at the students, who have suddenly grown extremely silent and instead of greeting her are staring stiffly down at their books.

           “I’m very pleased to have you all in my French class. For the next month we’re going to go through the basics of the French language, and see for ourselves what it has to offer.” She gives a smile, a scarlet, lipsticked smile that looks as fake as her makeup. “My name is Madame Brighton, but you can call me Madame for short. Now today, we’re going to start with the alphabet.”

           A few hours later you find yourself at home, your notebook in your hand, trying to replicate the sounds Madame made in the classroom. They’re the same letters that you’ve seen all your life, the same English letters, yet it marvels you what a world of pronunciation can lie behind a single one. You sound them out one by one, the b that rings on your lips, the d that jumps on the roof of your mouth and hops off your tongue, the amorphous vowels, in turn, but it’s the r that evades you, the strange conso-vowel that is the r, the rasping that starts from the bottom of your throat and rattles inside your mouth. The vocabulary words are frustratingly simple—book, chair, notebook, clock—yet the words themselves are so different that it is difficult for you to understand that the English words and the French words refer to the same thing. You recall the story you read in your Korean text book, about the man who decided to call his bed ‘a chair’ and thus changed the names of everything else, who as a consequence became unable to communicate with anyone else, quietly enveloping himself in his words. If he had met another person who, like him, decided to call things differently, then this may have very well become a new sort of language. After all, what is language but a complicity of sorts?

           Your mother wants you to master French, so that you can take the DELF, take the SATs, take the AP. The austere girl who sits next to you—who is also Korean, as it happens—is studying for the same goal. She pores over her words, memorizes her vocabulary impeccably, knows every grammatical rule by heart. But what is the use? you wonder. The most important thing is not whether avoir is an irregular verb, or whether the subject comes before the object or vice versa. No language in the world can be broken down to its essentials like that. Those are mere technicalities, mere rules that are as light-hearted as the ones children make up for themselves. No, what you really want to do is to grab a Frenchman, take him by the collar, shake him a little, and ask “But why, sir? Why must a clock be an horloge?” And he will shake his head, shrug perhaps, because for him it is so blatantly obvious that a clock is an horloge, as obvious as it is for you that a clock is a clock. How is that less important than regular verbs or obtaining the DELF?

           The plastic figure of a teacher offers no explanations. She continues to hand you your abysmal grades on quizzes, with the same red smile plastered onto her face and the same, trite encouragement to ‘keep trying harder, dear’. The girl next to you watches, with an unmistakable smirk. She is the teacher’s favorite.

           The lessons drag on forever, Madame in her terrible falsetto chanting out rules and exceptions. The whole experience is tortuous for you, the grammar unbearably boring, and the students looking as if their bodies were mere shells, their souls succumbing to the torpor.

           “Now, class,” the teacher continues in her overly peppy voice, “let’s all pay attention now. Don’t doze off, or we’ll have another quiz tomorrow.”

           Always more quizzes, more homework. She says that this is the only way to learn a language, by endless memorization, testing and repetition. Need it be so boring? You ask. Where are the quirks in the language? The idioms you learn must have some kind of basis, some kind of origin, derived from the wits of many linguists and citizens alike. Certainly there are reasons my dear becomes translated into my little cabbage. And why do they say to have the heart on the hand instead of wearing it on the sleeve? If Madame ever had the sense to tell the students those things, you’re sure that there will be less dozing off in class.

          So you decide to find out for yourself. And what a jungle it is! Philosophers, kings, queens, poets, writers, artists; their arms and legs are jumbled up in a chaotic mess, shaping the language for what it is. Finally you can understand what a Proust’s madeleine is, or why so many words come from Latin, or why the letters are pronounced the way they are. You see that tomber dans les pommes (fall into apples), a strange way to say to faint, comes from George Sand, les fleurs du mal (the flowers of evil, or a masked evil) from Charles Baudelaire, and that the majority of the strange French words take their origins from Greek and Latin. Some are names you’ve never heard before, or words you can’t even pronounce, but the language faithfully reproduces them, makes them come alive in a colorful dance before your eyes; a secret is uncovered.

           The last class comes sooner than expected, and nothing seems to have changed. The students are as unenthusiastic as ever, save for the Korean girl who is eagerly reading over the final teacher’s comments. You are still slumped over on your desk, not wanting to read yours, but the scarlet letters reminiscent of her lipstick glare into your eyes: “Good job, but needs to try harder.” You know what you have done, though, so you do not regret anything.

           As the bell rings and the students shuffle out, you turn around for one last thing. Madame Brighton notices.

           “Yes, Joelle?”

           You hesitate, swallow, unable to get it out. Then,

           “Merci.”

You know it is not addressed to the teacher herself but rather to the entire classroom, the words scrawled on the blackboard, the conjugational tables stapled to the walls, the French vocabulary charts that you’ve grown used to reading. It is a thank you to the French language itself, because for all the failed tests and boring lessons and horrible hours spent with Madame, you’ve grown to love it. And all these words, their history, the secrets that they’ve been whispering to themselves and that no one, not even the teacher, bothered to uncover, are now yours.

So you say, “merci”, the r rising from the bottom of your throat, from the bottom of your heart, jumping out of your mouth and finally sounding just right.

Changed Blog Title....

...to "Sharks in the Pool", if you haven't noticed it already. I was actually considering "Metaphor and a Million", as a sort of tribute to/parody of Hyperbole and a Half, a blog that I've loved and followed since its beginnings until its brutal and unnatural end in 2010. (RIP, HaaH.) But then it would lack too much originality. I refuse to sap off of other bloggers' ideas.

So why sharks? Because they're wicked cool and savage. And why a pool? BECAUSE THEN YOU CANNOT ESCAPE. Just like the world cannot escape me, or, more truthfully, like how I cannot escape the world.

NUUUUU!!!

I...is this blog going to be scrapped?

....NOOOOO!!!!!!!

I refuse to let my blog die on me like this! The show must go on! (Even if it is a sad, pathetic, one-man show that no one cares about!!)

Even if I am not in Mr. Garrioch's class next year, I will still write on this blog whenever the fancy strikes me. That way, I can reassure myself that I am still alive. I have tons of topics to blog about anyway.

So take THAT, Fate. *sticks out tongue*

TED Talk: The Ocean and its Wonders

Over 80% of our planet is covered in oceans. Yet over 99% of them remain obscure, due to insufficient research done in this field. In this animated talk Mr. Robert Ballard reproaches our indifference to this fascinating asset that has been lying under our noses for millions of years. He tells us of his unprecedented journey through uncharted waters, of his discoveries that were previously unimagined by any other. Most of them, he recalls, were fortuitous, yet were some of the most earth-shattering, fascinating things he had ever seen. For instance, he tells us of upside-down water pools teeming with fish, underwater volcanoes belching methane gasses, the voluminous underwater lakes that give the illusion of being on land. There is no dearth of life even in the dark abysses of eternal darkness; in fact, some of the organisms have found ways to simulate photosynthesis without sunlight. These days this phenomenon is labelled and studied, but back when Mr. Ballard made this discovery, such a thing was unheard of.

Mr. Ballard continues to fervently elaborate upon the massive amounts of historical artifacts hidden in the seas; the near-complete absence of oxygen in some areas, he says, have led to the perfect preservation of sunken ships and their treasures. Vessels that sunk thousands of years ago are left virtually unmarred. The secret to the perfectly-preserved Titanic lies in the fascinating scientific mechanism of the ocean. If only we knew how to explore the seas properly, he says, then we would have on our hands the largest history museum on Earth.

But what captivated me most of all was his final point, about our future that may lie in the oceans. He advocates continuous research in the field of underwater innovations. Why is it, he asks, that we have plans to colonize the moon when he have the resources to build underwater houses? Why squander money and time by ignoring the biggest asset we have? The expenses that went into space research belittles what went to oceanic research, by far. This is an idea that literally never occured to me. In my opinion, this could break new grounds--those underwater houses that I've dreamt about, can become reality. Our current lives may even become ameliorated with the new added potential of underwater development. In order to facilitate that transition from a mostly terrestrial lifestyle to an aquatic one, I believe it would be in everyone's interest to heed Mr. Ballard's advice and pay more attention to exploring our oceans instead of only focusing on space. After all, our research is far from being exhaustive, and Mr. Ballard's is no exception. What he discovered is probably only a scratch on the surface. Incessant innovation and constant renewal of our knowledge of the deep underworld is pivotal to making this dream a reality. All simply depends on our volition and will to continue.

Review--Alice: Madness Returns (sequel to American Mcgee's Alice)

"Don't struggle, Alice. Let the new Wonderland emerge."

"Destruction! Corruption! My Wonderland is destroyed! My mind is in ruins!"

-Alice: Madness Returns



"My memories make me vomit!"

Goodness me, Alice. What's happened to you?

A lot, actually, since the ending of Through the Looking Glass, the second in the Alice in Wonderland (hereafter shortened to AIW) series by Louis Carroll. Everyone is familiar with little Alice Liddell and her fantastical journey through the dreamland she calls Wonderland. Anyone can recognize the Mad Hatter's frenzy with tea parties, the Cheshire Cat's signature grin and of course, "Off with his head!" Many, many remakes have been made of the classic tale, including the very famous Disney movie (1951) or the darker and edgier Tim Burton version (2010). But not many are familiar with poor Alice's struggles after her adventures; watching one's own family perish in a fire, after all, isn't something shared easily.

Wait, what?

Cue American Mcgee's Alice (2000), a third-person action-adventure game developed by..well, American Mcgee (American is his first name, believe it or not) and Electronic Arts.



That cat. That horrid, nasty-looking, wonderful Cat.*shudder*



As the cover makes clear, this is not your little innocent Alice any more. Shortly after her venture through the looking glass, a house fire destroys Alice's life, taking her entire family along with it. The only survivor of the horrific incident, she lapses into madness surging from grief and survivor's guilt. She falls into a catatonic state, eventually gets confined into Rutledge Asylum, and does not respond to any attempts to communicate with her.



But this is only what goes on outside. Asylum workers have no idea what's inside her head; if they did, they would be surprised. In fact, she's been having a pleasant cruise through Wonderland of old, only that it's not quite what it used to be:

(Yes, that's screaming faces in the wallpaper. You're not going mad, although Alice is.)

It's not much of a surprise, though; since Wonderland is a fixture in Alice's mind, it's only natural that it go mad as well, along with Alice.

That was basically the premise for the entire first game. Manoeuver through a dark and twisted Wonderland, help Alice battle incarnations of her guilt (in the form of horrid monsters) and recover her sanity, all while disturbing the craplocks out of yourself.

Aaaaand that was a terribly long intro for my review, which is to be about the second game in the series, aptly named Alice: Madness Returns.

If you successfully finished the first game, then congrats: you've helped Alice out of the Asylum. (That's not much of a spoiler, I hope.) Back in London, Alice believes she's free from her delusions, but alas, they return to her in their full horror:



Although she does have her bouts of sanity (she comes back to London from time to time), most of her in-game time is spent in Wonderland and therefore in her delusions. Not that I mind it much though.

1. Story

The story of A:MR is closely related to the first game; so closely, in fact, that it's pretty lousy as a standalone game. Because the entire game revolves around Alice trying to find the responsible for her family's death, finding clues and symbolisms in the enemies she battles, it's nearly impossible to understand unless you've played the first game. Luckily the game is kind enough to include a summary of Alice's history in the Extra Content section of the main menu.

If you want something more haunting, however, you always have the Interactive Storybook on Facebook. It basically tells the same thing: Alice's story prior to the events of this game, which is what happened in the first game. I am personally a fan of games I can play without having played the entire series, so this was a major turn-off for me.

As for the story itself, it's pretty creative, I should say. The idea of Wonderland rotting away as Alice's mind corrupts is a fantastic idea for an action game like this one. Then again, there are incongruities between the first game and the second, making kinks in the story that aren't quite ruled out. For instance, in A:MR it is shown that the family that died in the fire consisted of Alice's mother, father, and older sister Elizabeth; however, in the first game there is no mention of a sister anywhere. Alice is merely quoted as saying, "My parents are....dead." Elizabeth is merely a plot element introduced in the second game. Thankfully, the first game mostly involved fighting with Alice's inner demons and the family didn't need too much attention.  

The second game plays out as a murder mystery, with Alice gradually recovering memories from within her Wonderland to find out if she really was the one to blame for her family's death...or if there was an outer culprit.

But the most brilliant part of it was how American Mcgee and the team managed to make everything from Louis Carroll's world 'click' together nearly seamlessly. The Walrus and the Carpenter in Louis Carroll's poem, for example, are reincarnated as villains; the flying pigs from the same poem are linked to the 'pig and pepper' episode in the first Alice book....those are just examples. There is a major 'warped Carroll' example in the later part of the game, which I cannot reveal since it is a major plot point as well. :)

Story: 4 out of 5 teeth

2. Gameplay

Before I begin anything, let me just get this out of the way: The. Scenery. Is. Gorgeous. To demonstrate:

And this is just the tip of the iceberg. While wandering in Wonderland I found myself constantly stopping to stare at the marvelous amount of effort poured into each level and every detail. The first game, though fantastically disturbing in its own right, does not hold a candle to this one.


A. Weaponry and combat

 That said, the first game does have more weapons than A:MR. That was one of the peeves for me as I played through; there was much less variety in the number of attacks you could bestow upon your enemies. But the second game has better weapons, in my opinion; whatever it lacks in quantity, it makes it up in quality.

There are four weapons in this Wonderland: the Vorpal blade, the Pepper Grinder, the Hobby Horse and the Teapot Cannon. The Vorpal blade and Hobby Horse are melee weapons (short-range) and the Pepper Grinder and Teapot Cannon are ranged weapons. Let me quickly outline them:



-The Vorpal Blade:



"The Vorpal Blade is keen...and always ready for service." -Cheshire Cat

The first weapon you encounter in Wonderland, it is a classic weapon iconic of the Alice franchise. It's exactly what it sounds like: a blade, used to slash down enemies at close range. It's the swiftest and lightest weapon to use, making it useful for weaker enemies with low defenses. Only works at a very short range, though, so enemies with a strong offense may be difficult to deal with.




-The Pepper Grinder:



Care for some pepper in your tea?



My second favorite weapon in the game (the Teapot Cannon is the best in my opinion, I just love ranged weapons), the Pepper Grinder is the Wonderland equivalent of a machine gun. Use it to shoot fatal shots of fiery pepper in your enemies' vulnerable spots. It is also very useful for toggling far-away switches (shoot it at the switch/lever, and it will activate). I particularly love the idea of a pepper grinder for a gun. Cranking the handle to shoot pepper--what a simple idea, yet so delightfully refreshing.

-The Hobby Horse:

In Wonderland, toys frequently double as weapons. In the first game, dice, jacks and cards were deadly ammo for the enemy. Now Alice is yet again armed with another not-so-innocent plaything, the Hobby Horse. The Hobby Horse hits like a truck and does about as much damage. Think of it as a giant, horse-shaped sledgehammer that neighs when you attack with it (no, seriously. It really does). It is also the most satisfying weapon to use, hands-down. During the attack, Alice is shown hovering in the air for a split second, Hobby Horse raised, right before the final, earth-shattering, mind-blowing smash that effectively 'stampedes' the enemy. I clench my fists in anticipation every time.

-The Teapot Cannon:

Take that, you uncouth scallywags! A true Victorian lady educates with a good dose of Earl Gray.



The Teapot Cannon is the one I found myself using the most during combat, and my favorite, too. Not only do most enemies perish in one shot of the Cannon, but it also makes a satsifying splash as the scalding hot tea hit the ground (or the unlucky enemy's face). Not to mention that you can fight Teapot Monsters with this weapon; fighting tea with tea, now that's got to be the biggest mindscrew I've seen since Inception. Because of this darned weapon, I find myself flinching and fighting the urge to grab a teapot and flee with it under my arm every time I see one.

Weapons can also be upgraded; throughout each landscape, there are 'teeth' scattered about. Enemies drop them once slain; teeth are also hidden in containers dispersed in each level. Using these teeth, you can upgrade each weapon up to three times:

(note: the Vorpal Blade does not change its appearance even when upgraded, although its damage skills rise.)

I thought that this as a nice way to make up for the lack of weapons, especially compared to the last game, but I still would have liked to see more than four.

Weapons: 4.5 out of 5 Teeth



B. Technicalities

To be perfectly honest, the gameplay was not at all up to par. Maybe it was because of the massive load of game graphics the engine had to load up, or just my crappy computer, but I was all but unable to play the game smoothly if I had other applications running in the background. In order to play, I had to turn off all programs, check for any 'invisible' programs that I might have missed,  fire up the game, curse as I saw Alice stop randomly in her tracks, turn off the game, find that ONE little measly music player I had neglected to turn off, then start the game again. This was enough to try the patience of an oyster.

The sound was glitchy; if I decided to turn off the game in the middle of a level, the main menu music would ofen overlap with the game music. And if I chose to return to the game screen, the three soundtracks overlapped again, which forced me to turn off the game and start over. (That might have something to do with the fact that I didn't pay good money for this game--but shhh, we don't need to get into that. I'm going to buy it as soon as I'm old enough to play it legally.)

There were all-too obvious visible "invisible walls", which is gamer jargon for clearly visible, platform-like areas that are impossible to jump on. That detracted from the overall gaming experience, as I couldn't find myself absorbed into the game fully.

Technicalities: 3 out of 5 Teeth

Overall I adored the game, despite the technical difficulties. The sheer quality of the graphics was enough for me to overlook pretty much everything, even the glitchy sound, and of course anything AIW themed is enough for me to go insane over.

General score: 8.8 out of 10 teeth

Metaphorical Me (Mr. Moon) ((Marvelous M's!))

Assignment: write 3 words that define me metaphorically, then write a short paragraph with those words without using the verb 'to be'.

3 words:
-Alchemist
-Hunter
-Alice



The Alchemist struggles with her sad fate. Forever fascinated with death, with the Elixir that perhaps may never exist save in my imagination, forever roaming the deserts of the Living World that remain yet a mystery to me. Why do we live? And how does Death come to us, like a stealthy cat with its talons hidden? Questions that I ask myself, that I have asked myself since I could think, that I have been asking myself since the death of my grandfather and of a friend's friend.
In the meantime I hunt; I hunt not beasts, but beats. Music works as my salvation in a world I have yet to understand, an outlet for my confused feelings, perhaps. Whenever I hear a piece that pleases me, I immediately ask for its title and artist, then hunt it down over the vast plain called the Internet.
But ulitmately, a lost child constitutes my identity. They call her Alice, a child lost in reveries and an unfamiliar universe that does not know her, as she does not know it. Still a child, they say; she's yet to grow up; they cannot see, however, that she grows up in her own way--with her rabbit clutched tightly in her arms, she discovers, wonders, seeks.