I’ve lost a lot of patience for video games over the past few years. Too often they feel derivative, bland, or just plain clunky. Every once in a while, though, I come across a gem that rouses my sleeping ardor. Little Wheel, by OneClickDog, is one such title.

The game is a polished and subtle point-and-click adventure game. It’s short; you’ll probably be able to complete the experience in five minutes or less. Some might call that a fault; personally I’ll always spring for short and sweet over tedium. The characters, rendered in silhouette, are animated and endearing. Environments have a great Burton/steampunk feel, and there’s attractive use of 3D to Flash vectors. The music is snazzy jazz. It’s a solid experience and a good pacifier during the endless wait for Limbo.

via TIGSource

Googling for images of wharf rats led me to rediscover the Twin-Cities-based Action Squad website and, subsequently, their footage of the Allouez Bay ore docks in Superior, WI. I grew up in Duluth, which is just across the river in Minnesota. This video should give you a decent feel for much of the crumbling industrial infrastructure of the area.

I miss Duluth more than I can say. Living there, I never felt the appreciation I now have for the place. A day spent touring the docks and elevators of Superior Bay in my family’s small boat was pleasant, but I failed to see the magic of the rusted hulks and grimy brick edifices that loom about my hometown. At the time, the history and grandeur of these sites was incidental to the excitement of clambering through their dirty and dangerous bowels. I took them for granted; they had always been there. Is it distance or age which has granted me the ability to see how extraordinarily fortunate I am to have known such structures? Am I aggrandizing the experience of wandering through these deserted sites? Yeah, probably. I still miss it, though.

I’m returning for a visit in June, when I hope to spend some time reacquainting myself with some of Duluth’s more abandoned and graffiti-ridden locales.

Ladies and gentlemen, today I am on a rampage. What kind of rampage? A cleaning rampage. Scrubbing the HTML, straightening the CSS, sweeping out the dark and forgotten folders of yesteryear. Let me tell you it is feeling pretty good.

With the boyfriend out of town and nary a job in sight I’ve been taking the opportunity to finally learn my way into a real website. I’m not talking about some table-ridden Uncle Gary’s trip to Georgia Angelfire business, either; this place is going to be looking fine. Stay tuned for some exciting developments.

I’ve been on a bit of a musical theater kick lately after seeing Susan Boyle’s performance of “I Dreamed a Dream” on Britain’s Got Talent. This led me to revisit the soundtracks for a few Disney films from my youth, including The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I don’t remember it being a particularly striking movie, but hearing the songs again has given me a new appreciation for its themes, which seem surprisingly progressive for a Disney piece.

The movie is based on the Victor Hugo novel. I haven’t seen it for ten odd years, so the details are hazy, but here goes: A group of gypsies is trying to escape 15th-Century Paris. They’re busted by Claude Frollo, the Minister of Justice. He kills one member of the group, a young mother seeking sanctuary in the cathedral of Notre Dame. Frollo discovers her child to be deformed and is about to dump the kid down a well, condemning it as a demon, when he’s stopped by the Archdeacon of the cathedral. The Archdeacon tells Frollo that the only way to atone for the sacrilege he’s just committed is to raise the child as his own. Frollo consents, on the condition that the boy be brought up inside the bell tower.

Cut to maybe 20 years later. The boy’s named Quasimodo (half-formed) and he has become the bell ringer for the cathedral. Frollo’s kept him sequestered inside his whole life, and Quasimodo’s greatest desire is to spend one day amongst the crowds of Paris instead of watching them from above (shades of Ariel!). Anyway, long story short, both Quasimodo and Frollo become attracted to a Gypsy woman named Esmeralda.

Esmeralda has a song in which she’s praying not for herself, but those less fortunate than she. I remember being struck by her opening line: “I don’t know if you can hear me / or if you’re even there / I don’t know if you would listen / to a gypsy’s prayer“. At the time it seemed to me radical to openly question the existence of God in such a mainstream middle-American medium as a Disney film. Esmerelda goes on to implore God to help the outcast and downtrodden. The chorus comes in the form of other congregants voicing prayers of their own: “I ask for wealth / I ask for fame / I ask for glory to shine on my name / I ask for love / I can possess / I ask for God and his angels to bless me”. Esmerelda counters: “I ask for nothing / I can get by / But I know so many / less lucky than I“. Granted, this is nothing terribly groundbreaking. We’ve been told that good people think first of others, and Esmerelda’s selfless piety is nothing revolutionary. Still, it was a surprising nod to class and religious hypocrisy issues, especially in a historical context, and did a good job of illustrating the character’s mature strength.

The real beef though is a song called Heaven’s Light/Hellfire.

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Quasimodo brings us in with a pathetic and sweet account of how he’d never dared dream he’d experience the joy of love. After being granted a kiss from Esmerelda, however, he feels his cold dark bell tower is filled with heaven’s light. Cheesy, yeah, but wait a second. There’s an instrumental interstitial, then things take a turn for the gloomy. We cut to Judge Frollo singing before a roaring fireplace.

Beata Maria / You know I am a righteous man / Of my virtue I am justly proud
Beata Maria / You know I’m so much purer than / The common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd
Then tell me, Maria / Why I see her dancing there / Why her smold’ring eyes still scorch my soul
I feel her, I see her / The sun caught in her raven hair / Is blazing in me out of all control
Like fire / Hellfire / This fire in my skin / This burning / Desire / Is turning me to sin
It’s not my fault / I’m not to blame / It is the gypsy girl / The witch who sent this flame
It’s not my fault / If in God’s plan / He made the devil so much stronger than a man
Protect me, Maria / Don’t let this siren cast her spell / Don’t let her fire sear my flesh and bone
Destroy Esmeralda / And let her taste the fires of hell / Or else let her be mine and mine alone

Pretty mature material! Religious misogyny and bigotry are uncommon themes in children’s stories. I really like the juxtaposition of two forms of desire, and the way faith or religion or culture can tinge that desire to accent or corrupt it. In any case, it’s fun. The score is nuanced, vocals are nice, and the main character doesn’t really get what he wants in the end. Tony Jay was amazing, as always. All told, quality material.

Way back in mid-January I decided to engage in a little experiment in the hopes of kick-starting my growth in the world of occasionally drawing stuff. Every day since (with the exception of one night I’ve yet to make up for) I have produced a drawing/sketch/doodle and posted it to a blog created for this purpose. I call it postwaste. Each entry is limited to 30 minutes, as I want to avoid becoming overly ambitious and concerned with outcome.

Why start a completely new blog? Well, general tidiness aside, Picasa has the handy ability to read PSD files, convert them to JPEGs, and publish them right to Blogger. Anyway, take a look if you’re so inclined. As always, comments are welcome.

Seattle’s been shut down for five days now due to relatively heavy snowfall. It started on Thursday, when unwitting Pacific Northwest drivers found themselves revolving their way down slick streets and into curbs. I’ve never seen so many pratfalls. Business closed their doors and people huddled indoors to wait out the “snowpocalypse”.  My more daring neighbors have been throwing themselves down the roadblocked Denny Way on makeshift sleds of laundry baskets, surfboards, mattresses, and dumpster lids. I could hardly sleep last night with all the cheering.

There’s something pretty wonderful about the transformation the city has undergone. People learned their lesson after the first day, and many who need to travel now do so by foot. There are far more pedestrians than would normally be the case, and often these people will be wandering down the yellow line of what was once a busy thoroughfare. It has a surreal disaster-film feel to it that I can’t help but adore.

Anyway, check out my Picasa gallery for a few more photos.

I’d like to take a moment to urge my reader[s] to check out my friend Colin’s blog, Queerer Than We Can Suppose.

QTWCS is a melange of information pertaining to the quirks of evolutionary biology, semi-veganism, queer stuff (gay/otherwise), et cetera. Over the two years I’ve known him, Colin has continually impressed me with his unique perspective on just about anything that comes up, and while I’ve not always agreed with him, I have never lacked respect for his researched and thoughtful opinions. Colin is a brilliant writer, scientist, activist, and human creature, and all y’all’s lives would be enriched by subscribing to his feed.

I need to get on the ball one of these days. I’ve been meaning to hammer out a theme for this blog since a few days before forever ago, but it hasn’t happened.  Trying to get over the whole “if I can’t do a smashing job at something, I’d rather just leave it as is” thing.

Google Reader, Twitter, and my Tumblog have conspired to siphon off all my blogging fuel. In an effort to combat this insidious threat, I have embarked upon a strategy to produce content in addition to simply relaying it. So, uh, here’s a phone photo I shot from my desk tonight.

I’ve drafted and trashed a few posts since Tuesday’s election. Everything I’ve written has fallen short of my true feelings this past week, so rather than leaving it at that I’ll let Keith Olbermann say a few words.