The Walking Dead

Housekeeping:  I finished the previous post with all the pictures.

My internet has been down for four or five days, and I've pissed off my boss again, so I have been insanely busy and therefore unable to answer all e-mails.  I'll get round to them, I promise.

Rugby:  The whole country had Friday off, so Lion had an all day rugby training session which meant about three hours of meetings, and three hours of training (total).  I damn near crocked myself with the amount of work I put in, but it was worth it on Sunday when the gaijin had a game against the representative team for our league (the best of all the other teams combined).  We won, I scored three but, frankly speaking, I had a shocker in defence.  I just couldn't do anything right.  Luckily I set up a try within seconds of the game starting, along with a few other setups and the aforementioned scores, so the two I let in were made up for with positive contributions elsewhere.  Alongside that, I actually managed to stop a couple of definite scores, one by dragging a poor guy over the try line, holding him up, over the dead ball line.  Poor guy.

Anyway, onto the actual beginning of this post:

The Walking Dead

This game.  This goddamned game.  Holy jesus.

I've never read the books, nor have I seen the T.V. show, I have no intention of doing either until there is a concrete resolution (something that will never happen, there's too much money at stake after all) which means I'll probably fail to start, let alone finish, either entry.

This game though.  I see most people regard it as a story of survivors in a post-apocalypse.  I don't.  I see it as the story of Lee Everett, a convicted murderer on his way to prison as the zombies start roaming.  This isn't a game review so the spoilers will come thick and fast from this point onwards.  You have been warned.

The second I became aware that Lee was an actual murderer with actual (as opposed to zombie) blood on his hands, I knew he was destined to die.  Our Christianity laden (/burdened) society seeks redemption exactly one way, no matter the literature you read.  First comes the great, humanistic redemption through a goodly deed (in this case, saving a girl) followed promptly by death.  Having taught the girl how to survive, then loosed her into the wild with tools and experience, you work is done and your fate sealed.

It is absolutely unthinkable, a physical impossibility, that a murderer lives a normal life, with no repercussions for his actions.  Remember that this game is marketed towards one of a tiny minority of advanced countries that still practice the death sentence, so expect comeuppance (rather than reality) to be the modus operandi.  What kind of message would it send the children if bad people survived?!?!  That would border on real life.  Unacceptable.  We must live in a world of dreams, fantasy and delusion.

The fragile american grasp on reality, leading to an inevitable conclusion (worked out some two hours into the first of five episodes) aside, the game is excellent at manipulating your emotions throughout and despite the transparent, face value choices (save him, her or neither) the time you spend with everyone is time well spent.  The only reason this works is because the writing and voice acting are quite good.  It's not the best, other games nail the acting better, while the dialogue doesn't quite flow at times due to tech constraints.  The game is all about choices.  You choose responses to almost every piece of text (all voiced) and choose who to save, which supplies to take etc.  The reason this causes problems is relatively obvious.  With every choice having multiple outcomes, it's difficult to react to every conceivable permutation.  To combat this limitless branching, they bring the dialogue back to a set point every couple of decisions.  While the end result is nowhere near as clinical as the process sounds, there will be times when your companion is happy at a choice you made (giving them food for instance) and they they'll jump straight back at you with an insult that doesn't fit the conversation path you chose, does does fit another where you told them to shove it.

This game is custom built for anecdotes.  While they story is every bit as linear as a novel, the name and by extension the interpersonal relationships vary drastically.  In reality the changes are minor, with the protagonist dying no matter what.  A lot of people die no matter your choices.  But that fact that I, me, you choose who dies and quite often how, in what order, makes a personal story unavailable with other mediums.

A bit went crazy and shot one of the guys I'd saved earlier (choosing him, a defenceless man, over a woman armed with a pistol).  I decided to outright leave her on the side of the road, zombies shambling towards the sounds of our gunfire and shouting.  Her fate is undecided as are a few others, but I wouldn't be surprised to see her in the inevitable sequel, whether that's alongside Lee in a photo memorial or as a survivor, that's something that I can't predict.

Seriously though, that bitch shot the guy who rigged up an early warning system for the encampment our group survived for three months in.  Who would shoot someone so useful?  In fairness it was accidental, she was trying to shoot a different survivor (not much better really, now I think back on it).  She'd lost her shit weeks ago, so it was probably better this way, but as she was disappearing into the distance via the cliche rear-view mirror shot, I did feel guilty.  Her and her dad were scum that deserved to die; it was therefore a guilt born of empathy for the person at having to portray such a person.  Bear in mind that this is a computer game and they are not, in any way, physical human beings.  This kind of meta-empathy is an extremely impressive feat that overcomes written and technical limitations.

I don't like the art style.  I find it difficult to look at the washy textures that were lifted directly from 2004, particularly the faces.  Pro-tip: if you're writing a human drama based upon which emotional connections are all important, spend a decent percentage of your technical budget on the faces so that you can form bonds beyond the realisation of this being a human within a game.  Also, so away with load screens on the PC.  My box has sixteen gigs of ram, this game is four gigs, so why don't you just load it all up front?  One three or four minute load is preferable to twenty seconds loads that happen at every single crucial juncture.  Yes this game is made for consoles that have two hundred megs of ram, but it wouldn't be difficult to make this happen when porting it over to the PC.

Complaints aside, this story is brilliant.  The decisions are brutal as are the depictions of the results.  Obviously there can never be a perfect game - as much for the impossibility of accounting for taste as for accounting for the innumerable genres within 'gaming.'  This is a bloody good adventure game however, and I recommend it for anyone who likes a good story, a good adventure game, or good games generally.

Lion Versus Hitachi

For some reason I always thought Hitachi was Korean or something.  It doesn't sound particularly Japanese to my naive ears, but as it turns out they originated in Japan.  It also turns out that the town of Hitachi has a rugby team that kicked our collective ass.

Having come off the back of a strong win (by two points) against the current leading team in the league, we were all far too relaxed, ceding dozens of points in an embarassing game.  No one wanted to tackle, and to prove this, once I get my hands on the video I'm going to count the total number of missed tackles.

It's funny because if I speak in a session (in Japanese or English) everyone nods, shows understanding, then immediately ignores everything I said.  They have a set game-plan that they are physically unable to deviate from.  If you're being beaten in the loose at the breakdown then you need to start chucking it about to avoid contact and use two off runners, instead of the usual one off.  Split the opposition up, do something about it.  Our kicking game was pedestrian as usual, but that is our only backup.  We have first phase plays and kicking.  Nothing else.  Whenever I do some tricky, top draw off-load in the tackle I'm chastised.  If the recipient is a back it's more often than not dropped cold because our backs couldn't catch a cold in a Russian bio-tech lab.  Our forwards are much better with their hands and much more willing to try the French style off-load game.  The very same style that has them annihilating the southern hemisphere teams where no one else can touch them.  All I can hope is that they don't completely crush the (sparse) creative will I hold onto at the moment.

But I digress.

Keita is a great little scrum half, who has ceded his starting position through no fault of his own.  He isn't as physical as our current half, but he has bucket loads of energy once he gets on.  He's not abrasive, he's elusive.

Nik, the other foreigner, is shoo-in for player of the season because no one else on any team we've played against seems to want to tackle him.

I took an awful lot of photos at the weekend.  Most were just larking about, but a couple of them came out okay.  I think this one falls into both categories, but let not my opinions sway yours!

This tiny little fella' has a bigger chest than me.  Pretty impressive considering his size.

So there are three out and out back 3's and me.  To be honest I should probably be playing at inside centre considering the fact that they only use me as a battering ram (I am ten kilo's heavier than everyone, and faster too) (Sam, no passing out of the tackle!) but I don't mind being on the wing.  This season I've probably had ten tries dismissed because I've been running a supporting line that puts me through, and instead of passing they go to ground.  I am not exaggerating with that number either.  I just hope someone sees the videos and recommends a gameplan change, or a change of scenery.  It's so unbelievably frustrating.

Anyway, this guy is one of the aforementioned catchers, and weighing in at seventy kg's isn't anywhere near the lightest winger we have.  Unfortunately, the only reason I've started the last few games is because the captain, who usually plays at full-back, was on vacation for a couple of months.  His return and the recovery of an injury prone back mean that I'm almost certainly out of the team for next week.

For coaches who are new to the game, here's a pro-tip:  Always pick the players who have been in the group for the longest and with whom you've formed personal relationships, not the better player.

It's interesting because I rarely get on better with the forwards in a team, but the amount of BS spewing from behind the scrum means I naturally gravitate towards guys like this, who have personality and a touch of fun.

It's obviously not all complaining though, it is a lot of fun to hang around most of these guys.

Like this scrum-half.  He's all of fourteen inches tall, but he's good fun (and he looks like a monkey).

And this guy, who got his first start (since I've been here) at the weekend.  Good for him!  He's dead nice and always smiling, so you can't help but be happy about someone like him getting game time.

As you can probably tell I haven't got all their names yet, but the guy pulling an attempted Usain Bolt is Gaito (sp?).  He's a number 8 who gets around the pitch and does his work.  Interestingly, walking alongside someone who does absolutely no work whatsoever.  An interesting combination.  Also, one of the people who doesn't chime in with useless 'advice,' that's immediately countermanded by the next player in line, who is then undermined by the next person who gives polar opposite 'hints.'

Who ever heard of a full-back who is only allowed to come into the line outside the outside centre?  Never allowed to come in as a dummy runner on the inside, or dare I say it, take an inside ball from the fly-half or inside centre?

Telegraphed much?

Whenever I shake things up I make a few yards, and then get told off.

Sigh.

Honestly, that's my last complaint.

This guy always takes a good picture.  He's absolutely got the face for it.  I don't really understand why he takes a better photograph than another person, but I get a lot more keepers with him than with others, it's certainly interesting.

The environment around the Hitachi town is superb.  There's a bit of rubbish on the beach (honestly, where isn't there rubbish on a beach these days?) but it's pretty much spotless besides.

I don't know why I added this one, but it tickles me for some reason.  It's nothing special, I understand that much, but the lines really break it up well and make for something that isn't too jarring on the eyes.  That's all I'm going for at the moment, something that doesn't give you a headache when you look at it.

Getting a natural smile from people is really difficult.  I don't have a small camera so I can't go all pervy and try to hide it, so I tend to do the complete opposite.  I stick the camera in their faces, let them get their awkward faces out of the way, then when they start talking to each other I snap away and get shots like this one.

Also check out the sheer number of black and white photographs I've taken.  What's up with that?

(The simple answer is that colour harder because you need to get the exposure absolutely correct, along with the framing and other things you've got to worry about.  Black and white is a lot more forgiving during the actual shot, and in post-processing (just look at the number of botched colour pictures that I've over saturated or over-exposed in this selection)).

The food at the restaurant was actually pretty good.  Of course, my tastebuds have been dulled to western food, so I have no idea whether it would pass muster in Europe.  The portions were, of course, miniscule; but I knew they would be so I tucked away a convenience store dinner before we headed out.

For some reason there was an army of Santa Claus' storming this building.

The temporary captain looking out onto the ocean.

I quite like how you can see where he is looking, as the other half of this conversation is just about in the frame too.

The dark side of Nik.

Massive contrast doesn't usually work with colour photographs, but I quite like this one.

I'd like to live in one of these houses, until a frickin' great big earthquake comes along and causes the sea to wash you away.

Subaru is the same age as me, and his parents come down to pretty much all the games we play.  They didn't come along this time and we lost, so I have a feeling that they are our lucky supporters.

The physios are incredibly stretched keeping an entire squad up and running.

Subaru also takes a really good photograph.  Not to mention being a bloody good guy.

Musing and Bruising

So it's officially Christmas.  The people in my local supermarket have begun wearing their traditional Santa hats.  I say traditional despite having lived here for one year, and not knowing how long they've been going at it.  How long does something take to become traditional?  On a similar note, how long is a piece of string?

It's halfway through November and I'm already sick of sleigh bells and general Christmas assery. This is Japan, a country distinctly lacking in Christians.  Why.  Just why.

Anyway, I recently found out there's a country more insular than France even, and lo and behold it's Japan.  In a straw poll survey (the kind major news outlets solely rely upon for their hard facts) the Japanese teacher asked the students how many had flown on aeroplanes (the suggested correction for aeroplane in the dictionary is Aristophanes, what?).  A grand total of six people had flown, which isn't many considering these kids are fifteen or sixteen years old.  The obvious follow on was how many people had left Japan before.  It turns out those flights were all domestic - no one had ever left Japan.  Then he asked how many wanted to leave Japan at some point in the future; two people raised their hands.

Christ.

Welcome to small town Japan!  Japan is a small country, both literally and metaphorically.  I can't fathom wanting to stay in the same place your whole life, let alone somewhere with such a limited view of the world.  Then again, I was exceptionally lucky to be taken to dozens of countries as a kid and probably see the world as much through vehicle windows as with unfiltered eyes.  Still, I can't help but wonder whether it wouldn't be more effective to throw the kids out into the world, then let them filter back to Japan when they've gained knowledge of things outside their normal spheres.  Surely that would help the economy, innovation is key to continued growth, so we're constantly told.

I can see the ulterior motive for keeping the populace downward looking though - the fourteen hour days that pervade the Japanese economy would cease to exist overnight because the average Japanese would see how everyone else is more profitable while working fewer hours.  Work smart, not hard.

But I can also see the flip-side to the alternative, as it were.  Japanese people are fanatically stubborn, and when I mention that, for example, in the 90's British growth outpaced Japanese growth by a factor of three for nearly a decade, while the average person enjoyed working far fewer hours, they simply shrug and say this is the Japanese way.  The European mentality of one good hour being worth three bad ones simply doesn't rub in Asia.  Having been here a while, I still fail to understand their thinking behind this 'work ethic.'

In reading a random article on the internet I came across one entitled 'Sorry, But This 72 Year-Old Grandfather is Way Cooler Than All Our Grandfathers.'

It's about a grandad that dresses up like a woman.  It's essentially bollocks, written up to make it seems slightly less testicular in nature - but no amount of fluff will detract from the painfully obvious fact that it is, at the most fundamental level, garbage.

What is interesting however, are the americans.  They have taken umbrage with the title and as such, we are treated with such gems as:

My grandfather has lived sixty-six years of agony with shrapnel from a Nazi potmash irretrievably lodged in his lower back, all so I could avoid goose-stepping to my factory job every day with a Mein Kampf pocket companion. So no, probably not cooler than my grandfather. Now, this may well be someone making an ironic point.  I will concede that possibly, I am falling into a trap made by an astute student of the american psyche.
But I don't think I am.  The spelling isn't usually this good when dealing with internet trolls and counter-trolls. Also, I have faith in the unplumbed depths of american stupidity. Now, with Christmas approaching everyone wants to buy things for everyone else. Stop right there. I am full.  I have to move house soon, and I have more things than I thought humanly possible.  I have so many things.  I don't need any of these things, I certainly don't need more!  It's going to cost an arm and three legs to move it all from where I am now, to wherever I end up. I also have bajillions of clothes, none of which I wear (outside the obligatory shirts and rugby kit) and only a few of which have holes in them.  More to the point, I don't want anything else.  I have everything I need, I'd like a couple of lenses for my camera, a good tripod (300 or more pounds to you, sir) and a battery grip (another 300 quid) but they are things I can wait a few years to save up for myself.  These are all items that are in the 'oh and a house, and a car, and a million pounds,' category, so there is really nothing of reasonable value I want. So what can you do?

(You're all getting pictures by the way.)
(Tough tits.) If you've been watching the rugby, you've been depressed by the English performances (but heartened by their insistence on playing positive, attacking rugby.)  You may also have seen some ridiculous facial hair.  Unfortunately, I fell into this trap.  I made a deal that scoring would allow me to shave everything but an unfortunate 'tache, two would let me shave everything.  I only scored one last week and none this week, so I have a moronic moustache that is utterly ridiculous.  I'll get a picture up sooner or later, but in the meantime if you see a charity box, drop fifty pence in - think of it as an honorary donation on behalf of eyebrows raised wherever I go. And finally, a funny little animated short.  It looks pretty nice, even if the animation is a bit rough.  I wonder how many parents feel this way, and I also wonder how close to home this hits for my own.
I'll put up some rugby pictures later in the week, along with a quick review of our devastating defeat that leaves our promotion hopes hanging by a thread.

Over 20,000!

So this blog has been viewed over twenty thousand times now.  That's roughly ten thousand refreshes by me, alongside myriad homepage meddling.

Anyway, there's not a lot happening recently so here are a few rugby photos.

The team we played against are currently leading the table, but if we win the rest of the games we can still come top and gain promotion.

We were defending for the vast majority of the match, but still won by two points.

Me and nik scored our only tries, foreigners power!

The kicker got both kicks, which was pretty lucky.

So...

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That's about it.

Bye!

A Wedding Party

So in Japan you have a party after the initial wedding party - and in a typically efficient manner they're called first wedding party, second wedding party and so on.  This ni (two) jikai (party I guess?) was for one of the Tokyo Gaijin.

Once again, all these pictures have been re-ordered by the computator, making them follow no particular chronology.  I went on a massive black and white bent with this set, as you'll see.

So I got Dave to pose for this one for a while, it came out okay but not brilliant.  If it were a clean background maybe it would be better.

I enjoy popping up over shoulders, taking a picture, then skulking away.  I don't know why.

Sometimes they see you though, and more often than not the picture turns out a bit rubbish.  This one was okay though, so it's not always a terrible idea to have posed shots.

This was the nighttime view from the 60th floor of the sunshine building in Ikebukuro.  For those who don't know, that's basically the middle of Tokyo (as far as I'm concerned).  Out of the other window you could clearly see the financial district as a huge number of extremely tall buildings.  As they were so tall, it was difficult to see past them and the pictures were a bit naff as a result.

For some reason Phil the South African turns up some good pictures.  I don't know why.

This is one of the wags (do you still call them that?) who often helps out.  The guy on the left is the captain for the gaijin.

The bride just behind one of her friends.  I say bride as it's a wedding party of sorts, but they've been married for a while now.

This is a selection of the gaijin players and their wags (I'm sticking with it).

And a few more.

I particularly enjoy this picture because it shows two couples, and the difference in dynamic between them.  The guy on the right is a welshman though, so you've got to try really hard to understand what he's on about.  (He's super welsh).

This is Mojee and his Missus.  The Fijian style of never dressing up no matter the occasion has inspired me to try this approach in the future.

Despite promising that there would only be one speech, there were in fact three.  Shame on you Dave!

A random group photo.

The view really was excellent.  I also adore this photo - not because it's particularly artsy but because it could be in any magazine or brochure, it wouldn't look out of place.

Again Phil looking for a new facebook picture.

A random baby that was walking around, doing some kind of dance.

This was the night before, taken at a temple (or a shrine) overlooked by Tokyo Tower.

I stayed round a gaijin players house, and this lady was one of the housemates who cooked takoyaki for us.  It was pretty good, but they poisoned mine with spicy chilli and whatnot.  I was not happy the next day, that's for sure.

Again, the night before the party after happened to occur around Tokyo Tower, so there are plenty of pictures of this iconic, if somewhat underwhelming attraction.

This is the guy who let me stay round his house, and his lady friend.

This statue is in the temple grounds, but I couldn't get a direct shot of the tower behind it.  I opted to get a reflection in the building behind the statue, but it is somewhat difficult to tell just what it is.

This is Daves family, lots of Australians meant lots of drinking, unsurprisingly.

I love this picture, but there is someone standing in the background which distracts just enough that I wouldn't say it's great.  The coloured version is better, but it's too noisy to use.

Lots of other people were taking pictures, so I had the opportunity to take pictures of people taking pictures.  What.

She was probably talking to Rich (the welshman) when I took this picture; I guess that because she's looking upwards, and Rich is eighteen feet tall.

This is the view of Tokyo by day.  It really was a brilliant sight.

The kimono worn by the 'bride,' was rather spectacular as you'd imagine - the colours really popped out from the surroundings.  I don't know whether this picture captures that, but I tried my best.

These two guys were talking draft beers, the one on the right being one of the rugby playing gaijin.  It all went over my head (not being a particularly committed drinker) but I now know that aussies drink cider too.  All this time I thought it was uniquely English.

I tried to get some long exposure shots of the temple at night, but I am sorely lacking a tripod.  I keep looking them up, but the good ones that will actually hold my camera are prohibitively expensive.  I only really 'need,' two things to complete my setup as I'd like it - a fast 50mm (f1.2!) and a tripod, so one day, when I have money, those will be my purchases.  I don't really enjoy shooting with a flash because it's exceptionally intrusive.  Sure, you can control the resulting images much better, and gain consistency that's probably required for professional photography, but the spontaneous nature of most of these shots wouldn't be possible with a flash setup.

I don't know what's going on here.

And another shot of the wags, because that puzzled expression is priceless.

That's about it for this edition - a particularly photograph heavy one.

I'm not particularly impressed with how most of these came out, but these were the picks of the crop, as it were.  I need a faster lense to attempt something like this properly - f4 just doesn't cut it in low light with respectable ISO's.  Having said that, I don't have a spare couple of grand lying about right now, so that'll have to wait.

As always, tell me how much I suck below - unless you're a spambot or particularly offensive (you'd be surprised how many spambots there are) your comment will be added promptly.