Sunday, January 06, 2002

So all my sweet sweet painkiller is gone, and I'm still marginally lumped up, which gives me a really great excuse to be cranky (one of my favorite hobbies).

Amusing anecdote about what an idiot I am:

I am currently playing Clive Barker's Undying, which is an extremely good first-person shooter/horror game for the PC. I was racing right through this game, blasting all the unspeakable, Stygian horrors into horrible little bits at an honestly pretty alarming rate. Then, it happened.

I was cruising around this island where I had to sneak up on a bunch of swarthy pirate types and bust a cap in their pirate booties, something I accomplished with relative aplomb, and I went on my merry way, to bring more death to the forces of darkness. But I noticed that I was moving incredibly slowly. As I meandered across the island, and fought my way through a barn infested with hideous baboon-type thingies, the slowness continued.

I cursed my computer: "Damn you computer!" I cried. "Why must you antagonize me so?!"

No improvement.

I cursed the game: "Damn you Clive Barker's Undying! Why must you test me in this way?!"


The next challenge facing me was a leap from the barn roof on which I stood to a neighboring roof. I tried this, and I am not exaggerating here, eight thousand times. I would almost make it, but not make it, and go crashing earthward, damning my virtual self to at the very least severely twisted ankles again and again. I howled with misery at the callous, uncaring world, and made a few agonizingly slow circuits of the ENTIRE island again, in search of something else that might help with my jumping dilemma. Nothing seemed to help.

Nothing, that is, until I accidentally hit the "K" key, thereby toggling the "Sneak" mode off for the game.

OK, that was an extremely geeky anecdote, I know. But I just picture this hapless video guy that I am controlling having to constantly crawl and shuffle along, preparing to jump in slow motion, knowing there is no possible way he will make it, because his Creator and Controller is a complete goober who can't figure out when he's in "sneak" mode. Enough said.

In case any of you doubt the veracity of this little tale, just ask my wife about the time that, after a year of owning a particular coat, which I wore almost daily, I looked up with an expression of childlike glee on my face and said "Hey! This jacket has pockets!"

I rest my case.


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