A blog hop, huh? That’s the first I’ve heard of it, but I’ll
give it a shot. Now then, let’s see…if
my guess is right, then all I have to do is…yep, that should work.
*rotates neck*
*steps away from wall, takes
hands out of pockets, and raises a fist*
This ability to self-promote,
allowing a no-name writer and his reputation to keep on spreading… I’m positive. This idea has acquired abilities of TV Tropes…with
the help of CHIHUAHUA ZEROOOOOOOOOOOOO!
*bursts into a storm of lightning*
This blog of mine glows
with an awesome POWER! Its burning code
tells me to entertain you! Take
this! My words, my gags, and all of my pageviews! SHINING CROSS-UP POOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOST!
GO!
GO! GOOOOOOOO!
*stabs the internet in
the eye, causing terminal combustion*
I popped out of my room this
past Tuesday morning to tell my mom that I was going with my brother to see a
movie. “Oh?” she asked, stepping into
the laundry room. “What movie?”
“The Avengers,” I answered.
Just saying it made me want to smile.
She turned to look at
me. “The
Avengers?” she asked, almost teasingly so.
“Don’t you want to see that movie Think
like a Man? Why don’t you go see
that instead?”
Now, let me be
perfectly frank here. I hold my parents in
extremely high esteem; I never went through those “rebellious teenage years”
because my parents were unduly good to me.
My mom took good care of me and my brother (the former being a
broccoli-haired nutcase, and the latter being a slacker making a nine in
Algebra II). My dad worked long, hard
hours at his job -- even if it meant going on extended trips -- just so we
could have a stable, comfortable household.
I’d sooner rob a bank than speak ill of them.
And yet, when my mom
suggested that I go see a movie besides The
Avengers, I almost laughed in her
face.
I knew instinctively
that The Avengers wasn’t a
movie. It was to be an event -- from its
May 4th release until its inevitable bowing out of theaters, it was
a holiday. A celebration that brought
together movie goers, comic fans, nerds, critics both armchair and
professional, and people just plain hungry for a good story. I swore to myself that I wouldn’t miss
it. Just as I didn’t want to get locked
out of the loop by passing on The Hunger
Games, so too did I want nothing more than to be a part of the superhero
festival.
But there’s a key
difference between The Hunger Games
and The Avengers. Namely, in that The Avengers surpassed even my earlier definition. It has surpassed being just a mere event.
The Avengers is The Avengers
-- a production that, with its merits alone, has created a fantastic niche for
itself. It is pure enjoyment
personified.
The sun slid past
Porbeagle’s horizon, and made its daily trek into the sky. As light swept over the coastal town, its
denizens began their morning routine.
Birds -- seagulls among them -- chirped and cawed, and started their
search for morning meals. The shadows
that once ruled the town’s short buildings sank into the cracks, allowing each
weathered brick to take in the rays and the heat. Cars started heading out for work, going from
the tops of sloped hills to the stores at the bottom; at least half of them
broke off and headed for the ports, or the docks, or wherever they’d left their
boats. If they could see the sparkling
sea, then they had no reason to avoid a good day’s work.
Porbeagle’s regular,
everyday activity -- all of it, in tempo with the waves splashing against its
coast -- had grown into a part of the town.
A natural alarm clock, of sorts; in spite of its small size (or maybe because
of it), the launching of its fleet and the motion of its people lent the town
its character. Plenty of people woke up
with a smile thanks to the sea-heavy symphony.
But not Lloyd. Not today, at least. He woke up because apparently, someone had
decided to clamp his hands in a vise.
I would be finishing it
up right about now if I hadn’t quit early to watch How I Met Your Mother -- which, to my surprise, wouldn’t even be on
this week in exchange for everything else on CBS Mondays. Blast.
Such a miserable fate…but oh well.
Here I am, writing a bit on that whole retrospective thing. Kinda weird, since I know by the time I finish
this segment I WILL have re-finished the game (and it probably won’t be
primetime Monday anymore), but that’s how it goes.
I’m on the last level
-- the last savepoint before facing off with the baddie with a darkness fetish,
Ansem. Once I walk through it, I’ll be
facing off with him and all the power at his command. Will I survive the Expert playthrough? Will Donald and Goofy use up all my items? Will my X button survive another round of
boss-bashing?
In order, probably,
definitely, and only if I forget how to properly apply pressure to my
controller. Anyway, let’s get on with
the retrospective. Ready, set, dive.
And by probably I mean WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE YOU FOOL GO SEE IT DO IT NOW DO IT FAST GO SEE IT AND DRAG EVERY FAMILY MEMBER YOU CAN TO SEE IT AND GO SEE IT TWICE.
Ahem.
It's a pretty good movie, is what I'm getting at here. As I did with The Hunger Games, I'll post a write-up over the next couple of days (same applies for Part 2 of my Kingdom Hearts retrospective). But until those are ready, I'll offer a little preamble as to why The Avengers is so amazing.
What element might that be? Care to take this one, gents?
Once more, he’d ended
up in some new territory. Maybe he’d hit
his head harder than he thought; last he checked, he wore a hospital gown, not
his regular clothes. And last he checked
the world had other colors besides black and white.
He clutched his head. He never knew he’d see the world in black and
white so literally; not a single shade of gray stood before him. It looked as if everything around him had
been outlined on blank paper. And more
to the point, those black lines wobbled like the goo of a lava lamp.
So where was he
exactly? He couldn’t say he’d ever been
to a place made of lines, but he could at least make out the area’s purpose. He sat in a director’s chair behind a long
desk; a stage lay several feet before him, with colorless curtains hanging on
its left and right. Wires trailed from
Lloyd’s side of the room onto and past the stage, allowing each light to --
theoretically -- shine on. Tall studio
lamps stood behind him, balancing on needle-thin tripods; dozens of spotlights
hung from the rails above, as well. A
white screen had been propped up in the stage’s center, and far behind it Lloyd
spotted a few props -- chairs and cameras, planks and paint cans, even the
occasional boulder and tree.
Lloyd stroked his chin,
more amused than afraid. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this
stage was going to be used for an audition.
But that would be silly. He
pressed a hand against the table, hoping that he could push right through to
its underside. Rats. For a second, I thought I
was a ghost.
I’ve been seeing a lot
of these “10 Things You Didn’t Know About X” recently, and -- as is the usual
standard -- I figured I’d give it a shot when the movement is at the fringes of
relevance, and people have geared up to take the next societal plunge. It’s probably the reason why my cell phone is
always two generations behind everyone else’s…but I digress.
Let’s not waste any
time with these pleasantries, shall we?
Much like most of you, I’m on a tight schedule; I’m due for a hot dog
luncheon at five. Although,
incidentally…
As you may know, Birth by Sleep left me hollow and miserable. The perceived taint of the
original’s whimsy and charm. The waning
influence and importance of the Disney universes in favor of the typical Squeenix
fare -- angst and convolution.
Everything related to Terra. I’m
still holding out on Aqua’s story being the best of the three, but I’m
seriously worried; I’m afraid that my hopes will be dashed mere minutes into
the first video.
I’m willing to accept
that KH3D (sorry, but I’m never
calling it Dream Drop Distance) might
be the game that restores my faith, but I have a niggling voice that says that
those days are over. I had my fun with Kingdom Hearts, but the franchise as I
knew it has changed. Whether or not
Tetsuya Nomura and his cohorts had a plan for the series to transform into its
current, monstrous incarnation or not doesn’t matter; Kingdom Hearts was destined to change independent of whatever
preferences or opinions fans might have had.
In the eyes of some, it’s a change for the better -- a chance to see
Disney worlds go into the realm of over-the-top action, and go up against
villains that aren’t quite so colorful and cartoony. To others, it’s just a slide into mediocrity,
taking gamers to places they’ve already seen before rather than dwell in the
flawed, yet still-satisfying world created at the franchise’s outset.
The adult in me is
willing to nod and accept that, and learn to appreciate the series’ changes as
they come as well as latch onto the games that suit me.
The child in me,
however, says “Fuck your Roxas! Gimme
some KH1!” So I popped my copy of the game into my PS2,
started a playthrough, and let it rip.
(The following is a piece written by my good buddy -- and fellow writing heroine -- Cadi Jamison. I'd wager that one of us is going to make the world a better place soon...and since she's got a head-start, I'd argue you should put your money on her.
Read on and enjoy. It's different in tone from the stuff I usually put on Cross-Up, but I wouldn't post it if I didn't think it needed to be read.)
=====
It
was one of those places that she didn't expect to find herself in, but one of
those days that she hardly thought that mattered. Because when they went around
the circle introducing themselves in the warmth of that tiny little house, she
noticed, they seemed eager to hear her speak, too. Even if she was a little bit
faded. It was almost like, in the low light, she could pass for a person. So.
She passed. Clutched her invisible necklace and smiled and, instead of saying
who she was said, "Well I think that today was beautiful because the stars
came out last night."
And
it was enough. And, then. He got there. And froze time for everyone but her.
Him. Them.
"You,"
he said. His voice sounded like chills on the back of her neck.
She
didn't move at first. But she did speak -- with her eyes.
"I
know who you are," she said. But didn't tell him.
"Well,
I know who you are," he said. But didn't tell her she was a ghost.
Which is to say, it STILL hurts like hell. But at the very least, I’m alive…no thanks to
that Ferris wheel. I never would have
guessed that you, of all park rides, would betray me. But maybe that was all a part of your plan --
to cast suspicion on your friend, the teacup ride, only to attack when I least
expected it.
With that golden theory
out of the way, Lloyd looked around. It
didn’t do much good; miles of darkness stretched out before him, no matter
which direction he looked in. Come to
think of it, he couldn’t even feel his neck twisting, or his eyes
swerving. Curious, he tried holding his
hands before his face -- but nothing appeared.
Were they even there? Or had his
brain been jettisoned into the void? No,
that couldn’t be it; he couldn’t imagine the mess he’d make if his gray matter
hovered about.
_KHI.png)
