Titans, turtles and.... tumultuous?

It sure is a tumultuous time to be a Titans fan, oui? Pacman's out for the year (or at least 10 weeks. AT LEAST), David Givens doesn't really wow me as our most exciting receiver being all gimpy (all the best David, unless Brandon Jones is ready to break out hardcore for us), Travis Henry is one of dem stinkin' Broncomen, Jacob Bell wants us to show him the money and best of all, while at the same time being worst of all, Vince Young will be on the cover of Madden NFL 08. A sign of respect and clamour around the league for being one of the hottest commodities, while at the same time subjecting him to a curse not too dissimilar to the cover of Sports Illustrated (which Vince has already beaten, subsequently winning the Rose Bowl. Go figure.)
I had already predicted a sophomore slump for Vince, but now my simple idea that a guy tails off in year two because people have figured him out and he's still working out the kinks, is instead replaced by the notion that John Madden has bewitched him. Somehow the first sounds more credible, but the second more widely acknowledged. Either way, if I'm cussing a lot more by the end of the year, you'll know that Vince is either struggling/injured/dead.

A digression, written on September 23rd, 2003...

The plump man takes a deep breath. His fingers twitch nervously, and he seems to be awash by a sense of pensiveness. He dismisses it, however, prepared to make the biggest, and perhaps last, great jump of his life. He shifts his hat slightly, breathes out, and starts running furiously. His feet fly swiftly and silently against the cobblestone beneath him, and his arms pump mightily. His gratuitous girth belies his speed. He hops up onto the spring placed precariously close to the edge, and bounds off, using all the leverage he can manage.
He soars through the air confidently, almost casually, before beginning his abrupt descent toward his moving target. All he can do now is hope he tracked its flight pattern perfectly. He nears his destiny, when suddenly, the flying turtle he had aimed for starts climbing higher. It manages to slip past, and the plumber plummets hopelessly down to the fiery depths of hell.

GAME OVER

DAMMITALL!! Why was Miyamoto so deadset obsessed with making Super Mario Bros Deluxe so absolutely hard? Obviously, with my superior skills, I soared through the normal game, and conquered most of the Lost Levels, but World 8-3 is insane. You know, why did Bowser have to play it safe? Why choose to make the empire's last line of defence show a sense of plumber hatred never seen before? I tell you, no matter how goofy Nintendo make his personality, this dude's a brilliant tactician. He does amazing things with troops who are downed by a single jump. I mean, in all his army, their most feared weapon is their flipping HAMMERS. And through all of this, he still manages to kidnaps the Princess, overthrow an entire kingdom AND perfect his go-kart skills. It's obvious that Bowser really does make the Mario world go round.

Honestly, where would we be without Bowser?

Here you've got Mario, crippled from a gorilla-related mishap that ended his exciting days as a carpenter forever. His girlfriend/niece/whatever the twisted storylines indicate, Pauline, ditches the poor sod, and no amount of rescue from oversized pinball machines will win her back. With his workers compensation, Mario fires up a last-ditch job as a plumber, which, although a tamer profession, is damned expensive. His last option is to live off his brother Luigi (who, according to the DK cartoon lore, is probably grieving over the awful relationship between him and his estranged daughter). Anyway, they're given some screwy offer to clear out pipes filled with crabs and flies.

Now, stop right there. Given the curious nature of the situation, and the overwhelming presence of the Shellcreepers, it's highly likely that these are some of Bowser's rogue troops. However, for the sake of argument, we'll assume otherwise. Who knows what really happens down in the sewers of Brooklyn, anyway. If New York City's houses ninja turtles, who's to say Brooklyn doesn't have angry icicles.

Anyway, the bros follow the tubes, and end up in the Mushroom Kingdom; a democratic society with a senile Chancellor and an army of mushrooms. In a Communist world, the kingdom should've been invaded decades ago. Well, anyway, pipes are two-way things, so the various baddies the bros encounter are wreaking havoc on this world as well as their own. So when the crab-and-fly-overrun Kingdom is suddenly visited by Italian plumbers with overalls and questionable surnames, they're naturally suspicious of the pair. The innocent and no doubt confused plumbers are taken into custody, and thanks to a bad system and a kangaroo court, Mario and Luigi are accused of sabotage, and sentenced to life in prison.

When all seems bleak, there's a sudden invasion by the villainous Koopa army. The Kingdom's troops are easily overpowered, and the few remaining politicians decide blackmail and extortion is the way to go. They convince Bowser to trade the Princess for the lives of the Mario Bros. Bowser weighs the issue, and makes a bold decision. Who wants some nagging member of the royal family, whom he could no doubt easily recapture, when he could have not one but TWO hardworking plumbers who work for peanuts, and can jump really high?

Bowser sees the benefits, and dreams of a future with no more backed-up toilets.

He accepts the offer, but keeps his troops at their posts. And just as well he should, because as soon as Mario and Luigi are released from jail, they go against the government's decision, and rebel against the Koopa forces. After Bowser is defeated, the government sees only bad things for the Mushroom Kingdom. Should others hear of the cowardly actions of the Kingdom's parliament, trade offers would drop, and the economy would be in shambles. Desperately, they make a shifty cover-up story involving heroes and warp pipes, resulting in Mario and Luigi regaining their freedom.

HOWEVER, since our situation was a world without Bowser, the invasion never occurs, and the Mario brothers DIE IN PRISON. Does that sound like kind of thing Nintendo could build an empire around?

Hell no! So now, ask yourself, who's the real hero? Mario or Bowser? …Who did you say?

Well, you're wrong. The answer was Luigi. Without his financial and commercial support, Mario never would've been hired for a job as important as the crab-and-fly dilemma, and Mario would've died a sad and unsuccessful man.

…Doncha just love trick questions?

From that unnecessary piece of script (which may only seem familiar to Werdnazo), allow me to segway to my next point; Smash Bros Brawl looms in the distance, and I can only wait on with baited breath to see who will make the roster this edition around. Will I reprise my feared role of Falco? Will Sonic make the cut, thereby becoming my boy blue? Or, most exciting of all, will they give the nod to the Koopa f'in Troopa.
What isn't to love about Koopa Troopa, huh? He's the footslogger, the pawn, the man on the front line, the guy who's just there to take up space, and what weaponry is he provided with? If you'd read that delightful story, you'll find it's nadda. He's that much of a badass, his only method of attack being to walk into his enemy. Oh yeah, there's a linebacker to be proud of. And, despite his shortcomings, I'm sure I've been killed by Koopa Troopas at least forty-seven times over my years of playing Mario games.

...And let's look at it this way. He's a turtle. A killer friggin' turtle. He's everything I hope and dream to be, and it is because of this that he MUST, I declare MUST be in Smash Bros Brawl! Or better still, a 3D model of Kooper. I love that guy, perhaps someday we'll be wed.

Conformity vs. Chaos

Before delving into this tangent, let me state: I am right-wing. Though the following may be chock-full of left-wing praise, and there still isn't a governing system I like, if you knew me personally, you'd know me to be entirely RW.
While I've got a head full of steam, I'll express simply, on Thursday's uni class I saw the overwhelming RW flaw: tyranny. When you're in the arts department of university you're fed with so many LW ideals you could go loopy, so that's why getting a powerful dose of the opposite took me by surprise.

Put simply, the lesson I am taught in this class is, you're only right if you agree with the tutor. Any disagreements are dismissed or dismantled, any alternative styles or ideals are dubbed incorrect if they don't suit the tutor's strict, minimalist style, and as for his contradictions? Ignored, or shielded by barely relevant excuses. It's almost painful watching as all material must be generated towards this simple-minded singularity (I suppose then Victor Hugo, with his excessive detail and grand digressions, is one of the worst writers of all time?) Teaching through Nazism; the end-all, be-all, singular right. Obviously, I disagreed (arguing that building in contrast with repetition is a simple yet effective comedic device, telling a story in itself and introducing basic impressions of two ideas), and suddenly my view was 'incredibly subjective'. Tragically, I had failed to realise that the tutor himself was above subjectivity or opinion. He is, after all, God. Bold? Well, last I checked, only God was above opinion. Now then, seeing such flagrant, oppressive RW menace in its element, I could appreciate the ideals of LW people in their utmost beauty. If only it were as simple as that. If only there was a right and wrong. If only being radical was right.

A digression (which shall fill the remainder of this BLOG); as much as you all bitch and moan about it, offended by such generalisation and demanding there be shades of grey for you to slip comfortably into and avoid consequence for your views, there is but one truth. The left-wing folk are the hippies. The free-thinking, right-brained, order-hating, protesting, down with establishment hippies. The right-wing; organised, authoritative, left-brained tightasses. It's cops and robbers, while at the same time it's man and machine. Why do people attest otherwise? Because they can't acknowledge their own flaws? The beatniks aren't beatniks, the narks aren't narks? Too many people are afraid to face the backlash of being either LW or RW. 'Oh I love order, but I'm still open to change.' Damn I hate fence-sitters. Let's face reality people, the two don't co-exist. In order for their to be real or meaningful change, order must be tested. Tested in a definitive LW way, wherein normalcy is tested. Consequently, RW is a necessity for survival. Without the system, without the right, there is no wrong. If wrong becomes an open, interpretive idea, then that which is truly wrong goes unnoticed. If openness is allowed, simple logic cannot be applied and the world is in ruined, because let's face it, everyone's opinion is not equal; there are geniuses and leaders, and there are idiots and rogues. Put simply, quit bitching about how terrible the system is, and how it must be overthrown; the system doesn't work, but it maintains. Instead of trying to destroy it, give us an alternative. Release us from conformity, but protect us from chaos.

To return to a previous point, I hate fence-sitters, but we all must remain liberal-minded. No, that's not a contradiction; essentially keep your opinions reasonable, but don't be afraid to have an opinion, is what I'm saying. It is the radical thinkers who ruin the image of left- and right-wing thinking. Though radical LW can fix the wrong, and radical RW can maintain the right, it's idiotic to be radical at all times. To be LW or RW radical is to destroy or crush, respectively. Is that what we want?

Let's also look back at that shade of grey remark (a tad ambiguous, and debatable in its current phrasing), shall we? One might look at that comment 'there are no shades of grey' and say 'isn't that itself a radical statement?' I don't think so. The way I see it, you can (and must) acknowledge, respect and even at times agree with the other, but in order for there to be any progression, you must have a majority towards the one or the other. That's what teamwork is for, my friends. For those who disagree to coincide, to give and take, to build together. Call it a shade of grey if you must, disregard all else that was said, but, at very least, acknowledge that beautiful solution; those who agree to disagree. Don't tear down the other, but don't back down from it either. Just let there be an other. As I've recently been subject to, to be without the other is to be unfulfilled.