I talked briefly in my last post about one of my gripes - people giving themselves nicknames. It got me thinking about the names that me and my friends (one of which has his own nickname: Jabba) had thought up for people.
The reason for this list is because it gives you an insight into what nicknames should be about and why sometimes it's just best to introduce yourself by your true name, lest we make up a name for you.
My apologies go out to anyone who suspects themselves to be on this list. I'm fairly sure I've not included anyone who will read this, but if so... well, I'm sorry, you should've introduced yourselves sooner:
1) Fat Man Sadsack
2) Klingon Dan
3) Shitface
4) Jellybaby Ange
5) Gummy Joe
6) Ugly Bob
7) Queer Dean
8) Rat-faced Ange
9) Horseface
10) Slabcraker/Rhinoceros face
11) Germ
12) Harry Potter Chris
13) Blind Andy
14) Doughnut Face
15) Behemoth
16) Metallica Mouse (this has got to be my favourite)
17) Kebab
18) Flammable Girl
19) Cross-eyed girl
20) Mightybeard
21) Lumberjack
22) Monk Guy
23) Linkin Park Kid
24) Bacheweychomp Boy
25) Pedo Jim
26) Shiny girl
27) Glasses girl
28) Cat girl
29) Jesus Mark
30) Big Fat Big Gay Rob (he wasn't even gay!)
31) Marcus Dweebus
32) Asteroid
33) Pink (someone who looked like Pink, the singer)
34) That Slut. (I guess our imagination ran out at this point)
35) Darrenindrag
36) Pube
37) Jim From American Pie
38) The 3rd Place
39) Voldo
40) Bam-Bam
41) Asteroth
42) Sausage Roll
43) Straight Face
44) Onion Tramp
45) Spitter
46) Leslak
47) Druggy/Douggie
48) Wolfturd
49) Pigby/Yank
50) Beetroot ghost
51) Anthony Stokes (this was my nickname for a short period)
52) Jimmy (his real name was Andrew... makes sense)
53) Grange Hill (pure genius, if you ever met this girl)
54) Cat pee Lady
55) Capital D (he was 'D' shaped)
56) Spherical Man/Fatback
57) Salad Fingers/Benny
58) Herman the German
59) Boxer Girl (she looked like a boxer)
Ok, so these are all the ones I can think of at the moment, but you can see the general trend here. Bar the occasional observational statement, most of these nicknames are not what people would like to introduce themselves as and, for that very reason, they are true nicknames.
Suddenly, your real name doesn't seem that bad does it?
Tuesday, 12 July 2011
Thursday, 30 June 2011
The Things Men Say...
I live in Stoke. Yeah, on purpose. It's where I grew up.
The first thing I want to say is that it's not as bad as some people seem to think. Generally the crime levels aren't too high and there is not much violent crime. Whilst I have seen crime and experienced it firsthand, it's never been violent and I've never felt threatened where I live. I figured that Stoke hasn't discovered gunpowder or even iron yet so our gangs are still walking around with rocks tied to sticks and early Bronze Age weapons. This is probably why there isn't really much of a gang culture in my town.
Despite this, I do see the occasional chav in town arguing with his girlfriend. And then there was the guy who tried to kill himself by putting his head behind the wheel of a stationary bus after a failed attempt to hang himself with his jumper. So, I guess the reason we don't have violent crime here is because people are too 'simple' for armed conflict.
The way that the above men act -- especially around their partners -- does make me ponder over popular things that men say or do that are unique and annoying. I figured I would list some of them here:
1) "I'm a nice guy" - I think we all know someone like this. This is the person who has a deplorable lack of personality but views himself as the most suave motherfucker on the planet. One of my close friends recently bought to my attention this particular phrase which I realise I've actually heard said in pubs and bars many times. The type of person who says this is someone who was, at some point in their life, popular (for unknown reasons) and has latched onto a distant memory of a drunken idiot telling them this. This is the type of guy who refers to himself in the 3rd person.
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2) Referring to himself in the 3rd person - People don't tend to refer to themselves in the 3rd person in common conversation however a quick peek onto Facebook does show that this is used more often that you would think. When someone refers to themselves in the 3rd person they are essentially advertising the fact that they think so highly of themselves, they like nothing more than to hear their name said aloud. Either that or they're suffering from multiple personality syndrome... and all of the personalities are complete knobs.
3) Giving himself a nickname - Nicknames are something which should only really be used at school or perhaps in various workplaces. Aside from people working for MI6 or the CIA, nicknames shouldn't be something you give yourself. The only people with nicknames outside of these environments are serial killers and sex pests. It might be ok for other people to give someone a nickname (although these people should probably still be avoided) however giving yourself a nickname is just sad. "Hi, my name is Bob but my friends call me Razor". The appropriate response to someone saying this should be, "That's nice Bob, but I'm going to call you Cuntychops."
When I was younger there was a man who used to walk around the Wedgewood area of our town who asked women for the time whilst he dropped his pants and played with himself. We called him the Wedgewood Wanker. He is the perfect example of the type of person who has a nickname.
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4) "I have really low self esteem/I'm shy" - If a guy says this, it roughly translates to, "I'm used to girls falling over to grab my attention but I'm showing you that I really have a soft side and, deep down, I'm quite worried about the way people view me." Or, to put it another way, "I'm vain and I know I'm attractive enough to get you into bed."
Obviously, if the guy who says this is cowering in a corner, playing online games in the dark or pissing himself as he speaks, then he’s probably telling the truth.
5) “I set the internet history to automatically delete itself” – Yeah, this means porn has been viewed. The most sordid, most disgusting porn sites known to man have been looked at through that monitor. You have to think, if these things are bad enough for him to hide them from you then it’s probably best you don’t know what he’s looked at.
6) “This is our song” – Something which blokes quite often say to their girlfriends to recapture a romantic moment from their past. You can usually expect this to be the soppiest, most sickly-sweet, diabetes-inducing, cheesiest track you’ve ever heard. Something like Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing” or Robbie Williams’ “Angels”. I once knew someone who worked at a hotel which provided a hall where wedding receptions were held and they had to listen to these songs played over and over and over on a weekly basis.
If you’re going to have a song that is an audio representation of your love for someone then for God’s sake, make it unique… something like Slayers “Raining Blood” perhaps?
7) Saying “I bloody love you” (whilst crying) – If a guy does this then I’ve got bad news for you. A) He’s a chav. B) He’s also probably cheating on you.
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9) “No, my best friend is black/gay/Jewish” – Yeah, right mate. According to this common statement, black people, gays and Jews must be the most popular people on the planet because I have heard this said on many, many occasions.
10) “I’m not racist but…” (launches into hate-filled rant) – The football-obsessed thug that usually launches himself headfirst into this rant is probably a supporter of the EDL, convinces himself that Asian people are going to take over the UK and can’t pronounce the word ‘England’ properly.
It’s important at this point to mention that despite popular belief, and despite outward appearances, not all guys are terrible, terrible people. And, there are many things that women do that are equally annoying, but I’ll leave that list to a lady.
Rant over. Now, I’m going to go and delete my internet history before my girlfriend comes round.
The first thing I want to say is that it's not as bad as some people seem to think. Generally the crime levels aren't too high and there is not much violent crime. Whilst I have seen crime and experienced it firsthand, it's never been violent and I've never felt threatened where I live. I figured that Stoke hasn't discovered gunpowder or even iron yet so our gangs are still walking around with rocks tied to sticks and early Bronze Age weapons. This is probably why there isn't really much of a gang culture in my town.
Despite this, I do see the occasional chav in town arguing with his girlfriend. And then there was the guy who tried to kill himself by putting his head behind the wheel of a stationary bus after a failed attempt to hang himself with his jumper. So, I guess the reason we don't have violent crime here is because people are too 'simple' for armed conflict.
The way that the above men act -- especially around their partners -- does make me ponder over popular things that men say or do that are unique and annoying. I figured I would list some of them here:
1) "I'm a nice guy" - I think we all know someone like this. This is the person who has a deplorable lack of personality but views himself as the most suave motherfucker on the planet. One of my close friends recently bought to my attention this particular phrase which I realise I've actually heard said in pubs and bars many times. The type of person who says this is someone who was, at some point in their life, popular (for unknown reasons) and has latched onto a distant memory of a drunken idiot telling them this. This is the type of guy who refers to himself in the 3rd person.
Hand gesticulations are a must!
2) Referring to himself in the 3rd person - People don't tend to refer to themselves in the 3rd person in common conversation however a quick peek onto Facebook does show that this is used more often that you would think. When someone refers to themselves in the 3rd person they are essentially advertising the fact that they think so highly of themselves, they like nothing more than to hear their name said aloud. Either that or they're suffering from multiple personality syndrome... and all of the personalities are complete knobs.
3) Giving himself a nickname - Nicknames are something which should only really be used at school or perhaps in various workplaces. Aside from people working for MI6 or the CIA, nicknames shouldn't be something you give yourself. The only people with nicknames outside of these environments are serial killers and sex pests. It might be ok for other people to give someone a nickname (although these people should probably still be avoided) however giving yourself a nickname is just sad. "Hi, my name is Bob but my friends call me Razor". The appropriate response to someone saying this should be, "That's nice Bob, but I'm going to call you Cuntychops."
When I was younger there was a man who used to walk around the Wedgewood area of our town who asked women for the time whilst he dropped his pants and played with himself. We called him the Wedgewood Wanker. He is the perfect example of the type of person who has a nickname.
Yeah, this man looks pretty trustworthy.
4) "I have really low self esteem/I'm shy" - If a guy says this, it roughly translates to, "I'm used to girls falling over to grab my attention but I'm showing you that I really have a soft side and, deep down, I'm quite worried about the way people view me." Or, to put it another way, "I'm vain and I know I'm attractive enough to get you into bed."
Obviously, if the guy who says this is cowering in a corner, playing online games in the dark or pissing himself as he speaks, then he’s probably telling the truth.
5) “I set the internet history to automatically delete itself” – Yeah, this means porn has been viewed. The most sordid, most disgusting porn sites known to man have been looked at through that monitor. You have to think, if these things are bad enough for him to hide them from you then it’s probably best you don’t know what he’s looked at.
6) “This is our song” – Something which blokes quite often say to their girlfriends to recapture a romantic moment from their past. You can usually expect this to be the soppiest, most sickly-sweet, diabetes-inducing, cheesiest track you’ve ever heard. Something like Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing” or Robbie Williams’ “Angels”. I once knew someone who worked at a hotel which provided a hall where wedding receptions were held and they had to listen to these songs played over and over and over on a weekly basis.
If you’re going to have a song that is an audio representation of your love for someone then for God’s sake, make it unique… something like Slayers “Raining Blood” perhaps?
7) Saying “I bloody love you” (whilst crying) – If a guy does this then I’ve got bad news for you. A) He’s a chav. B) He’s also probably cheating on you.
Says it all, really.
8) Cheating on his girlfriend/wife and then saying he can change – OK, so if this has happened to you, and you’ve believed it and taken him back, then I’m sorry but you’re an idiot. He’s probably cheating on your right now.9) “No, my best friend is black/gay/Jewish” – Yeah, right mate. According to this common statement, black people, gays and Jews must be the most popular people on the planet because I have heard this said on many, many occasions.
10) “I’m not racist but…” (launches into hate-filled rant) – The football-obsessed thug that usually launches himself headfirst into this rant is probably a supporter of the EDL, convinces himself that Asian people are going to take over the UK and can’t pronounce the word ‘England’ properly.
It’s important at this point to mention that despite popular belief, and despite outward appearances, not all guys are terrible, terrible people. And, there are many things that women do that are equally annoying, but I’ll leave that list to a lady.
Rant over. Now, I’m going to go and delete my internet history before my girlfriend comes round.
Wednesday, 18 May 2011
Why Describing Motorcycle Issues Makes Me Sound Mental...
For those of you who don't know, I own a motorcycle. I love being a biker and the machine I drive is both my pride, my joy, and my way of getting around in all weather. You see, unlike many of the people you see taking to the roads, with their abnormally shiny chains, I have no choice but to use my bike all year round. It's part of the reason I hate winter so much.
Obviously, as I drive my bike a great deal and have done so since I bought it brand new (only this time last year), I know how the bike should fel and when there is something wrong. The problem is, I'm mechanically retarded, so explaining such issues to the dealer can be quite difficult.
The challenges I now face started at the end of January. Shortly after that horribly chilly snap we had which gave so many people excuses to stay at home, I noticed that the bike was not riding right. The trouble is, describing this particular issue was difficult. I could best describe this as a lack of 'ooomph'. This is apparently not a recognised mechanical phrase in a motorcycle dealership. So, I took the bike in and lo and behold, there was no issue found. They re-tuned the engine or 'downloaded the latest tune settings'. My attempt at humour by saying, "Ooh, like iTunes? Will I be able to play my songs on here?" was met with a stern shake of the head as though, deep down, they believed I was actually stupid enough to plug my iPod into the exhaust.
So, I took my bike away and it was not long before I realised that the issue was unresolved. Thankfully, each time it happened it gave me an indication of when it would occur and I hoped the information would give the dealers an idea of the problem. The difficulty was, it made sense whatsoever. When I took the bike back, my description was as follows:
"You see, when I'm driving it, from cold, I get about a mile, perhaps two down the road, and then at about 6,000 rpm the power goes. That's not to say that the power goes it just doesn't come. That is, when I say come, I mean I accelerate and nothing happens and then the bike slows down. But I don't have to be accelerating, it's hard to hold a steady speed. But then, after about a mile, the power will come back."
They looked at me again as though I was a bit special. "So, when does this occur?"
"When it's cold. In the morning. It tends to be Tuesdays or Thursdays"
"So on days beginning with 'T'?" they asked. I think this may have been their attempt at humour but there was no sign of it in their face.
"Um, well. Not just T's. It's happened on Saturday too. Perhaps Days beginning with 'S' are also a problem?" I smiled, but they noted this down. It seemed like they were actually documenting my verbal diarrhea. "So can you help?"
Once again, the shop took the bike from me, giving me a loan bike and they performed their tests. Once again, nothing was found and I had to take it back on two more occasions before they kept it in for a longer stint. During this time, one of the guys in the store rode the bike to work and back for a week and found the loss of power happened whilst he was riding it. Sure enough, I wasn't mental. They replaced the throttle and returned the bike. Problem solved...
or so I thought.
You see, within the period of about a month the bike began to feel less responsive at certain points which were - it seemed - entirely random and thus, difficult to explain. This led to me saying such gems as:
"It feels like I have a fat guy on the back of my bike, but only through certain gears."
"It's making me stall, but I swear it's the bike."
"It feels like the wheels are the wrong shape."
"It feels like someones got a rope tied to the back of the bike and they're pulling it when I'm driving."
"It feels almost like I'm underwater."
At this point I realised that, despite the issue being very real, I was unfortunately completely incapable of describing it in a way that would not make me sound like a raving idiot. The shop took the bike in and ran various tests without result but the problems still persisted. It all reached fever pitch when I finally had to make the call to them with a new issue; the general transcript of the call I can provide below:
"Hi, is that Mr. Breeze?"
"Um, yeah it's me again. Hi."
"How can we help you today?"
"Um, well I'm having problems with the bike again."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear about that. Is it the throttle again?"
"No, the bike won't turn left."
(At this point, I actually heard them sigh).
You can imagine the rest of the call. Essentially, what I was trying to say was that the engine cut out when I turned the handlebars to the left. They asked for me to bring the bike in (obviously assuming that it was one of my 'crazy' days) and I managed to get it to them, only for the mechanic to look at the wiring behind the steering column and say, "Ah, that's the problem. A wire is frayed. This bike is not safe. I would not recommend riding this bike."
Very reassuring thing to say, especially as my heart rate from the terrifying drive to the shop had only just began to drop.
You see, for all my verbal flatulence, for all my faults when it comes to describing mechanical problems, there is always something wrong. It's just that I fail to explain it to them. With this particular problem, they replaced the ignition set and sent me on my merry way but the bike was still not feeling right. So, I did what I absolutely hoped I wouldn't have to and emailed their CEO. Apparently my verbal diarrhea doesn't translate onto email, which is useful.
Thankfully, a month on, and they've tested the bike and took it back to the factory for repair. I am hoping for a swift resolution and that the issues will not return and so far they have given me no reason to believe this not to be the case. I've made a specific point of NOT mentioning the make or model of bike I have on this blog or the name of the dealer because despite these very dangerous and very numerous issues I've had, the dealers have always done their best to help. At the end of the day, the bike is faulty, it's a dud, but it could happen to any company and until they really annoy me, I don't feel it would be fair to name them here.
I have learnt two things from this whole experience however:
1) If you have a problem, go straight to the top.
2) I'm terrible at describing mechanical problems.
Obviously, as I drive my bike a great deal and have done so since I bought it brand new (only this time last year), I know how the bike should fel and when there is something wrong. The problem is, I'm mechanically retarded, so explaining such issues to the dealer can be quite difficult.
The challenges I now face started at the end of January. Shortly after that horribly chilly snap we had which gave so many people excuses to stay at home, I noticed that the bike was not riding right. The trouble is, describing this particular issue was difficult. I could best describe this as a lack of 'ooomph'. This is apparently not a recognised mechanical phrase in a motorcycle dealership. So, I took the bike in and lo and behold, there was no issue found. They re-tuned the engine or 'downloaded the latest tune settings'. My attempt at humour by saying, "Ooh, like iTunes? Will I be able to play my songs on here?" was met with a stern shake of the head as though, deep down, they believed I was actually stupid enough to plug my iPod into the exhaust.
So, I took my bike away and it was not long before I realised that the issue was unresolved. Thankfully, each time it happened it gave me an indication of when it would occur and I hoped the information would give the dealers an idea of the problem. The difficulty was, it made sense whatsoever. When I took the bike back, my description was as follows:
"You see, when I'm driving it, from cold, I get about a mile, perhaps two down the road, and then at about 6,000 rpm the power goes. That's not to say that the power goes it just doesn't come. That is, when I say come, I mean I accelerate and nothing happens and then the bike slows down. But I don't have to be accelerating, it's hard to hold a steady speed. But then, after about a mile, the power will come back."
They looked at me again as though I was a bit special. "So, when does this occur?"
"When it's cold. In the morning. It tends to be Tuesdays or Thursdays"
"So on days beginning with 'T'?" they asked. I think this may have been their attempt at humour but there was no sign of it in their face.
"Um, well. Not just T's. It's happened on Saturday too. Perhaps Days beginning with 'S' are also a problem?" I smiled, but they noted this down. It seemed like they were actually documenting my verbal diarrhea. "So can you help?"
Once again, the shop took the bike from me, giving me a loan bike and they performed their tests. Once again, nothing was found and I had to take it back on two more occasions before they kept it in for a longer stint. During this time, one of the guys in the store rode the bike to work and back for a week and found the loss of power happened whilst he was riding it. Sure enough, I wasn't mental. They replaced the throttle and returned the bike. Problem solved...
or so I thought.
You see, within the period of about a month the bike began to feel less responsive at certain points which were - it seemed - entirely random and thus, difficult to explain. This led to me saying such gems as:
"It feels like I have a fat guy on the back of my bike, but only through certain gears."
"It's making me stall, but I swear it's the bike."
"It feels like the wheels are the wrong shape."
"It feels like someones got a rope tied to the back of the bike and they're pulling it when I'm driving."
"It feels almost like I'm underwater."
At this point I realised that, despite the issue being very real, I was unfortunately completely incapable of describing it in a way that would not make me sound like a raving idiot. The shop took the bike in and ran various tests without result but the problems still persisted. It all reached fever pitch when I finally had to make the call to them with a new issue; the general transcript of the call I can provide below:
"Hi, is that Mr. Breeze?"
"Um, yeah it's me again. Hi."
"How can we help you today?"
"Um, well I'm having problems with the bike again."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear about that. Is it the throttle again?"
"No, the bike won't turn left."
(At this point, I actually heard them sigh).
You can imagine the rest of the call. Essentially, what I was trying to say was that the engine cut out when I turned the handlebars to the left. They asked for me to bring the bike in (obviously assuming that it was one of my 'crazy' days) and I managed to get it to them, only for the mechanic to look at the wiring behind the steering column and say, "Ah, that's the problem. A wire is frayed. This bike is not safe. I would not recommend riding this bike."
Not a good sign for me to see at that point.
Very reassuring thing to say, especially as my heart rate from the terrifying drive to the shop had only just began to drop.
You see, for all my verbal flatulence, for all my faults when it comes to describing mechanical problems, there is always something wrong. It's just that I fail to explain it to them. With this particular problem, they replaced the ignition set and sent me on my merry way but the bike was still not feeling right. So, I did what I absolutely hoped I wouldn't have to and emailed their CEO. Apparently my verbal diarrhea doesn't translate onto email, which is useful.
Thankfully, a month on, and they've tested the bike and took it back to the factory for repair. I am hoping for a swift resolution and that the issues will not return and so far they have given me no reason to believe this not to be the case. I've made a specific point of NOT mentioning the make or model of bike I have on this blog or the name of the dealer because despite these very dangerous and very numerous issues I've had, the dealers have always done their best to help. At the end of the day, the bike is faulty, it's a dud, but it could happen to any company and until they really annoy me, I don't feel it would be fair to name them here.
I have learnt two things from this whole experience however:
1) If you have a problem, go straight to the top.
2) I'm terrible at describing mechanical problems.
Tuesday, 19 April 2011
Immigration... Talk About it and You're a Racist.
I need to get something straight. At this current moment in time, I'm not the biggest fan of our Prime Minister, David Cameron. He's a toff who's trying to relate to 'the average joe' whilst taxing us, making cuts in all the wrong places and protecting his banker buddies. But, that aside, he has got some good ideas, I just wish he wasn't being a massive dick about things.
One of his most recent speeches saw him addressing the issue of immigration. He mentioned that it takes time to build up a community and people who move into that community with little wish to 'integrate' and know little or no English cause "discomfort and disjointedness in some neighbourhoods." I was actually refreshed to hear someone speak intelligently about immigration and I suspect within the next few days people will be branding him a racist. I hope this is not the case, he's a bigot, but there's no evidence to say he's a racist. What he has indeed bought up, is that which has many politicians sweating and something which is rarely bought up. I no way endorce the BNP and their very extreme views on foreigners in Britain, but the fact that they were able to become such a well-recognised political party is down to the overly sensitive way we view discussions on immigration.
The simple fact of the matter is that immigration can be a bad thing. Especially when it is not moderated. Illegal immigration is a bad thing and it's not racist to say that. There are serious problems with having unknown persons walking around a foreign land with no grasp of the language or culture.
The ways in which immigration causes problems in the UK is that these people are often taken advantage of and this in turn has a knock-on effect to the rest of us. Companies get cheap labour, we get screwed out of jobs. Thankfully, this is not rife in the UK as we have a bad habit of moving jobs abroad rather than moving people in to work, however it is one of the many problems caused by unmoderated immigration policies.
The part of immigration which I am most exhasperated by -- and the one I am most familiar with -- is the portion which sees people uneducated in the laws of this country; walking the streets doing as they wish. There is no particular race or creed that is more likely to commit crime, however there is noticable effects of having people who are not educated in British laws in the country. Some unfortunate cultural characteristics can sometimes be carried into Britain as a result of incorrect integration into the public. For example, women in some cultures are very much 'seen and not heard' whereas the ladies in this country enjoy the same freedoms as the men. When I was in the police, there was a large amount of negativity towards the females I served with and domestic violence towards women was widely overlooked by the communities in which it took place. Why? I actually heard someone once say 'it's part of the culture', which is an incredibly racist thing to say... apparently. I certainly wouldn't be brave enough to say what culture this person referred to.
I also recall during my times with police, many occasions where someone would not have tax or insurance on their vehicle, or would have no regard for traffic signals and markings. Not through any disregard of the rules, but because there was a large portion of people who came into this country not knowing that these things were required to drive. Unfortunately, traffic crime was probably one of the least negative things to come out of a lack of integration... Murderers were protected by people and violence was often condoned or straight out encouraged by the leaders of a community. An eye for an eye seemed to be something that was inbuilt into some cultures and the thought of bringing the police into a matter that was seen as 'easily resolved' never occurred. If someone stole your wife, you go out and you stab them. They learn their lesson and you get your revenge (I use this as an example, because this actually happened and was a recommendation of a community elder). I'm not attacking a culture for these barbaric methods of dealing with problems, I'm attacking our government which for so long has simply overlooked the fact that people need to be properly integrated.
There are whole areas in certain towns and cities where one race or creed is prevalent over every other and this should not be the case. This is not integration. In the past, the governement has failed to address the fact that some of these communities are poorer and as a result they often have higher crime rates than surrounding areas. Addressing this is not racist, it's intelligent. Crime and poverty shouldn't have anything to do with culture or race, but because of the way our government houses immigrants it often does.
Right about now some people would assume I'm racist because I've dared to bring up the issue of immigration. Immigration can be a very good thing for a country; indeed much of this country was at some point in history immigrants. Only some Welsh and Scottish families can actually claim to be 'true' Britons as the rest of us came across with the Normans or the Saxons. The case is even worse in America and Australia where pretty much everyone is an immigrant.
Immigration is something which is needed and should be managed properly. David Cameron has had a lot of bad ideas and seems to have somewhat of a jaded view of the public but this is one area where he's actually correct and seems to be going in the right direction. Integration is better than simply grouping up a race of people in a single area and a tougher stance on asylum should certainly take place. Afterall, the rules of asylum state that an asylum seeker should request asylum in the first safe country they get to. As Britain is an island, that should rarely be us. Also, if someone commits a serious crime in the UK, I don't see why we should be so aversed to sending them back to their country of origin if they've come into this country seeking asylum.
It is worth mentioning that there are many, many 'non-white' Britons, people who have lived and worked in this country and contribute more to the country than many of the true racists who only want a 'white Britain'. It is only because of the lack of action the government has taken on the people (white or otherwise) who have entered this country illegally that groups like the EDL and BNP have been able to flourish in towns where conflicts between races are common.
It's fantastic that we live in a multi-cultural nation, but it's a shame that these nations are so seperate from each other in some areas.
One of his most recent speeches saw him addressing the issue of immigration. He mentioned that it takes time to build up a community and people who move into that community with little wish to 'integrate' and know little or no English cause "discomfort and disjointedness in some neighbourhoods." I was actually refreshed to hear someone speak intelligently about immigration and I suspect within the next few days people will be branding him a racist. I hope this is not the case, he's a bigot, but there's no evidence to say he's a racist. What he has indeed bought up, is that which has many politicians sweating and something which is rarely bought up. I no way endorce the BNP and their very extreme views on foreigners in Britain, but the fact that they were able to become such a well-recognised political party is down to the overly sensitive way we view discussions on immigration.
The simple fact of the matter is that immigration can be a bad thing. Especially when it is not moderated. Illegal immigration is a bad thing and it's not racist to say that. There are serious problems with having unknown persons walking around a foreign land with no grasp of the language or culture.
The ways in which immigration causes problems in the UK is that these people are often taken advantage of and this in turn has a knock-on effect to the rest of us. Companies get cheap labour, we get screwed out of jobs. Thankfully, this is not rife in the UK as we have a bad habit of moving jobs abroad rather than moving people in to work, however it is one of the many problems caused by unmoderated immigration policies.
The part of immigration which I am most exhasperated by -- and the one I am most familiar with -- is the portion which sees people uneducated in the laws of this country; walking the streets doing as they wish. There is no particular race or creed that is more likely to commit crime, however there is noticable effects of having people who are not educated in British laws in the country. Some unfortunate cultural characteristics can sometimes be carried into Britain as a result of incorrect integration into the public. For example, women in some cultures are very much 'seen and not heard' whereas the ladies in this country enjoy the same freedoms as the men. When I was in the police, there was a large amount of negativity towards the females I served with and domestic violence towards women was widely overlooked by the communities in which it took place. Why? I actually heard someone once say 'it's part of the culture', which is an incredibly racist thing to say... apparently. I certainly wouldn't be brave enough to say what culture this person referred to.
I also recall during my times with police, many occasions where someone would not have tax or insurance on their vehicle, or would have no regard for traffic signals and markings. Not through any disregard of the rules, but because there was a large portion of people who came into this country not knowing that these things were required to drive. Unfortunately, traffic crime was probably one of the least negative things to come out of a lack of integration... Murderers were protected by people and violence was often condoned or straight out encouraged by the leaders of a community. An eye for an eye seemed to be something that was inbuilt into some cultures and the thought of bringing the police into a matter that was seen as 'easily resolved' never occurred. If someone stole your wife, you go out and you stab them. They learn their lesson and you get your revenge (I use this as an example, because this actually happened and was a recommendation of a community elder). I'm not attacking a culture for these barbaric methods of dealing with problems, I'm attacking our government which for so long has simply overlooked the fact that people need to be properly integrated.
There are whole areas in certain towns and cities where one race or creed is prevalent over every other and this should not be the case. This is not integration. In the past, the governement has failed to address the fact that some of these communities are poorer and as a result they often have higher crime rates than surrounding areas. Addressing this is not racist, it's intelligent. Crime and poverty shouldn't have anything to do with culture or race, but because of the way our government houses immigrants it often does.
Right about now some people would assume I'm racist because I've dared to bring up the issue of immigration. Immigration can be a very good thing for a country; indeed much of this country was at some point in history immigrants. Only some Welsh and Scottish families can actually claim to be 'true' Britons as the rest of us came across with the Normans or the Saxons. The case is even worse in America and Australia where pretty much everyone is an immigrant.
Immigration is something which is needed and should be managed properly. David Cameron has had a lot of bad ideas and seems to have somewhat of a jaded view of the public but this is one area where he's actually correct and seems to be going in the right direction. Integration is better than simply grouping up a race of people in a single area and a tougher stance on asylum should certainly take place. Afterall, the rules of asylum state that an asylum seeker should request asylum in the first safe country they get to. As Britain is an island, that should rarely be us. Also, if someone commits a serious crime in the UK, I don't see why we should be so aversed to sending them back to their country of origin if they've come into this country seeking asylum.
It is worth mentioning that there are many, many 'non-white' Britons, people who have lived and worked in this country and contribute more to the country than many of the true racists who only want a 'white Britain'. It is only because of the lack of action the government has taken on the people (white or otherwise) who have entered this country illegally that groups like the EDL and BNP have been able to flourish in towns where conflicts between races are common.
It's fantastic that we live in a multi-cultural nation, but it's a shame that these nations are so seperate from each other in some areas.
Tuesday, 22 March 2011
Making Light of a Bad Situation...
It's a human trait and something which inspired the naming of this blog. Over this month, we've seen a crisis in Libya, with pro-Gaddafi and rebel forces clashing and a huge tsunami has swept a stretch of Japanese coastline off the maps. Immediately following this, nuclear disaster loomed at one of the Japanese power plants. For many people around the globe its a time to reflect on the fragile nature of life.
For some of us that means mourning but for others, it means it's time to find the 'sickest' joke we can and share it between our friends.
Black humour has long been a passion of the English: more so in recent times with comedians like Frankie Boyle and Jimmy Carr providing some of the most disturbingly wonderful jokes around within a short period of a particularly 'bad' thing being bought to light. But is this a bad thing? There are obviously a lot of complaints about black humour, especially when the jokes are heard by people who are affected by the disaster but there is obviously a culture surrounding the telling of these jokes because they become so popular so quickly.
So, does this make us all a nation of sickos?
No.
People deal with horrible things in various ways. Some people break down and cry, some become reclusive, some people remember and others laugh. It's human nature that we all deal with problems in different ways. Not every person is going to show compassion about a bad event as not everyone is comfortable showing their emotions to other people. If anything, ignoring something, not making comment, not bringing it up, is worse than making fun of it. At least making fun of an event shows that it is on their minds; that people are thinking about it and how it is impacting those unfortunate enough to be affected by it. Humour is also a way of distancing yourself from something and making it seem like it's not quite as real.
When I was in the police I heard various stories of the bereavement officers (the guys who had to tell a member of the public that their loved ones have died) walking up to the front door of a family of the deceased and burst out with laughter just before they knocked on to give the bad news. Bad things do unusual things to people.
Using the police as another example, I recall a time when I entered a house where a man had committed suicide; hanging himself from the rafters in the loft. His family was downstairs and rightly distraught at the news of their sons demise and me and my trainer at that time walked up to see the body. It obviously had the potential to be a fairly upsetting moment and seeing this, my trainer said something unusual, and hilarious.
When we entered the loft, SOCO (scenes of crime officers) were already up there taking photos and getting evidence from where the body had been cut down. We just stood, looking at the body and then did a quick circuit of the room in silence. My trainer then said.
"You know why he killed himself don't you?"
"No," I replied.
He sighed before saying, "Just look at the wallpaper."
The wallpaper in the loft was a horrendous 1970's design which was peeling off parts of the walls. I had to try to stop myself from laughing, lest the family in the room below hear me. Was I laughing out of disrespect? No. Was I laughing at the body? No. I was laughing because it made the situation less awkward, less real. It's the way people deal with these things.
Obviously, following the tsunami in Japan, people are already coming up with jokes and websites such as Sickipedia are bursting with classics such as: "I don't know why we're giving so much aid to Japan. I've just seen a news report and there was a man with two boats in his front lawn. He must be wealthy." That joke was something I received from a close friend in the same day as the tsunami. That's how quick humour travels.
I hate feeling like I have to openly show remorse for an event. I hear it all the time in supermarkets when an elderly couple discuss such things with a tone of complete indifference.
"Oh, isn't is terrible what's happened in Japan, isn't it?"
"Yeah, all those poor people"
"Yeah... terrible... Grab the Corn Flakes, it's buy one get one free. Have you heard Noreen is getting a new hip?"
Is that really a better way to remember a bad event? To mention it with fake remorse and then pretend it never happened? I actually loathe when people do this, almost as much as I loathe people who claim that something 'offends' them when really they couldn't give two shits.
Someone once said to me a particular album I owned had an 'offensive' cover. It wasn't anything bad, like a child being molested by the Jolly Green Giant, it was just a series of painted figures that morphed into each other and looked like something from John Carpenter's The Thing. It wasn't exactly beautiful, but it wasn't 'offensive'. Indeed, if this was the most offensive thing that person had ever seen then he must have led a very sheltered existence.
Obviously what happened in Japan is bad, obviously the deaths in Libya are terrible. Do we need to force ourselves to feel remorse just because we are expected to? I say no. I say we remember the events in our own way, even if it's with laughter.
So far, this years tsunami has already claimed thousands of lives.
For some of us that means mourning but for others, it means it's time to find the 'sickest' joke we can and share it between our friends.
Black humour has long been a passion of the English: more so in recent times with comedians like Frankie Boyle and Jimmy Carr providing some of the most disturbingly wonderful jokes around within a short period of a particularly 'bad' thing being bought to light. But is this a bad thing? There are obviously a lot of complaints about black humour, especially when the jokes are heard by people who are affected by the disaster but there is obviously a culture surrounding the telling of these jokes because they become so popular so quickly.
So, does this make us all a nation of sickos?
No.
People deal with horrible things in various ways. Some people break down and cry, some become reclusive, some people remember and others laugh. It's human nature that we all deal with problems in different ways. Not every person is going to show compassion about a bad event as not everyone is comfortable showing their emotions to other people. If anything, ignoring something, not making comment, not bringing it up, is worse than making fun of it. At least making fun of an event shows that it is on their minds; that people are thinking about it and how it is impacting those unfortunate enough to be affected by it. Humour is also a way of distancing yourself from something and making it seem like it's not quite as real.
When I was in the police I heard various stories of the bereavement officers (the guys who had to tell a member of the public that their loved ones have died) walking up to the front door of a family of the deceased and burst out with laughter just before they knocked on to give the bad news. Bad things do unusual things to people.
Using the police as another example, I recall a time when I entered a house where a man had committed suicide; hanging himself from the rafters in the loft. His family was downstairs and rightly distraught at the news of their sons demise and me and my trainer at that time walked up to see the body. It obviously had the potential to be a fairly upsetting moment and seeing this, my trainer said something unusual, and hilarious.
When we entered the loft, SOCO (scenes of crime officers) were already up there taking photos and getting evidence from where the body had been cut down. We just stood, looking at the body and then did a quick circuit of the room in silence. My trainer then said.
"You know why he killed himself don't you?"
"No," I replied.
He sighed before saying, "Just look at the wallpaper."
The wallpaper in the loft was a horrendous 1970's design which was peeling off parts of the walls. I had to try to stop myself from laughing, lest the family in the room below hear me. Was I laughing out of disrespect? No. Was I laughing at the body? No. I was laughing because it made the situation less awkward, less real. It's the way people deal with these things.
Obviously, following the tsunami in Japan, people are already coming up with jokes and websites such as Sickipedia are bursting with classics such as: "I don't know why we're giving so much aid to Japan. I've just seen a news report and there was a man with two boats in his front lawn. He must be wealthy." That joke was something I received from a close friend in the same day as the tsunami. That's how quick humour travels.
I hate feeling like I have to openly show remorse for an event. I hear it all the time in supermarkets when an elderly couple discuss such things with a tone of complete indifference.
"Oh, isn't is terrible what's happened in Japan, isn't it?"
"Yeah, all those poor people"
"Yeah... terrible... Grab the Corn Flakes, it's buy one get one free. Have you heard Noreen is getting a new hip?"
Corn Flakes solve all of life's problems...
Is that really a better way to remember a bad event? To mention it with fake remorse and then pretend it never happened? I actually loathe when people do this, almost as much as I loathe people who claim that something 'offends' them when really they couldn't give two shits.
Someone once said to me a particular album I owned had an 'offensive' cover. It wasn't anything bad, like a child being molested by the Jolly Green Giant, it was just a series of painted figures that morphed into each other and looked like something from John Carpenter's The Thing. It wasn't exactly beautiful, but it wasn't 'offensive'. Indeed, if this was the most offensive thing that person had ever seen then he must have led a very sheltered existence.
Obviously what happened in Japan is bad, obviously the deaths in Libya are terrible. Do we need to force ourselves to feel remorse just because we are expected to? I say no. I say we remember the events in our own way, even if it's with laughter.
Friday, 25 February 2011
Buried Alive by Porn...
Recently there has been quite a bit of emphasis on the ease in which children are able to get their greasy little mitts on the worst filth the world has to offer. Many broadband companies are having to implement new rules and barriers to prevent minors from being able to access 'adult' material online. The only problem with this is that I thoroughly believe it is impossible to protect children from adult material. To be honest, I think it's unnecessary and I shall explain why.
When I was about 10 I had a friend who lived very close to me and had some very open-minded parents. This was a very good thing and I feel I should say that their openness and love towards each other has kept them together to this day. It was, however, a point of interest to us as ever-curious youngsters because we could see hints of their bedroom antics occasionally around the house in the form of the occasional saucy bit of underwear or erotic chocolate treat. I must stress however, that as 10 year-olds, we really didn't care about such things or want to know what was going on behind closed doors.
It is worth noting that no matter what you do to avoid such things they will, occasionally, jump out and smack you in the face when you least expect it. That is exactly what happened to my friend...
When I was younger I used to go fishing with my friend and we fancied ourselves as avid fishermen and were always eager to learn more about the sport. Upon discovering that there had been a large number of carp released into our local canal, we decided that we would try to catch one of these beastly fish, but in order to do so we would need advice. So, when my friends parents were out, we went searching for fishing magazines that we knew his Dad had, with the intention of learning the art of catching carp.
The search in the garage yielded no results and there were none in the downstairs cupboard so we commenced our search of his parents bedroom. Sure enough, in the top shelf of his Dad's wardrobe, we could see a picture of Bob Nudd -- a championship angler -- poking out from a pile of magazines. We had found the motherload and smiled in anticipation at learning how to fish like a pro. My friend, being the taller one, reached up and grabbed the magazine, pulling with all his might. This was when it happened...
With a yank, the whole pile of magazines collapsed out of the cupboard and fell onto my friend, literally knocking him back onto the bed behind as they poured out of the closet. The fishing magazine was buried -- along with my friend -- amongst the most humongous pile of porn magazines I have ever (and will ever) see. One magazine even landed, open, with a centre page spread on my friends chest.
My point here is that we were not looking for smut, nor were we interested in it, but our childish search for fishing magazines instead led to my friend being literally buried alive by porn. When my friend lifted the centre page spread from his chest, his reaction was not, "Whoa, that's nice" but "What the fuck is that?Urggh!"
Yes, my friend. That was a vagina.
We frantically pushed the magazines back into the cupboard, ignoring the pages that appeared to be stuck together and tried to assemble them into the same order as before. There was no curiosity to look into the unknown any further, we just made off with Bob Nudd and tried to wipe the experience from our minds. The funny thing is, my friend was pulled up at a later date by his Dad who had apparently kept an 'order' to the magazines and had guessed that his son had found the stash. His assumption was that he'd searched for it; the truth was it had almost killed him.
Children are not interested in porn until their teens and when we were introduced to it at a young age, rather than being aroused, we were put off it for a good while. There is no way to completely 'protect' children against porn and there is no need to go to extraordinary lengths to do so.
Obviously, times have changed and now the internet is the worlds largest library of pornographic material. The ease in which people can access porn, even accidentally, is quite staggering. I always used to joke that anyone could find a picture of a naked lady within 30 seconds of logging on, even on a blocked PC. I've not yet been proved wrong.
A good example of this was experienced during my time at college. I was 17 and studying Geology. Most of our time was spent in the classroom studying rock types and formations however we did occasionally get a chance for a field trip or, on this particular day, a trip to the computer room. We were learning about igneous intrusions and our tutor urged us to use the internet to find examples of them and in doing so, he managed to accidentally get every computer profile in the class blocked for a week.
An igneous intrusion is where rock strata has had magma injected into it, leaving a 'blob' or 'sheet' of volcanic rock surrounded by softer rock. There are many types of these and when searching for batholiths, sills and diapirs we quickly found what we were looking for. When it came to dykes however, our results were inconsistant at best.
Some of us found this:
Whereas some of us found this:
Obviously I had not wanted to search for porn but that was exactly what I found. It is worse with the modern internet search engines because it seems that typing in something as innocent as 'tea cup for girls' is likely to bring up results '2 girls 1 cup' and all fetishes related to cups. Despite this, I don't think young children are going to be tempted to click on the more filthy links and if they do, boy will they regret it.
Teenagers on the other hand will search for porn. They will search for it and they WILL find it and nothing in Heaven or Earth can stand between a teenager and porn. Even if he doesn't find porn in the strictest sense, anything with any iota of flesh showing will do: FHM, Art websites, African tribes, science websites anything and I mean ANYTHING will do. All this means is it's completely futile to try and stop a teenager from accessing porn and preventing access or making it difficult to get hold of will only add to the fun of trying to find it.
So what do I say to parents trying to discourage their children, or teenagers, from accessing porn? Show them the most sordid, horrible, disgusting, foul material you can get your hands on. Show them the horrors of the internet and suddenly, it might not seem quite as much fun.
When I was about 10 I had a friend who lived very close to me and had some very open-minded parents. This was a very good thing and I feel I should say that their openness and love towards each other has kept them together to this day. It was, however, a point of interest to us as ever-curious youngsters because we could see hints of their bedroom antics occasionally around the house in the form of the occasional saucy bit of underwear or erotic chocolate treat. I must stress however, that as 10 year-olds, we really didn't care about such things or want to know what was going on behind closed doors.
It is worth noting that no matter what you do to avoid such things they will, occasionally, jump out and smack you in the face when you least expect it. That is exactly what happened to my friend...
When I was younger I used to go fishing with my friend and we fancied ourselves as avid fishermen and were always eager to learn more about the sport. Upon discovering that there had been a large number of carp released into our local canal, we decided that we would try to catch one of these beastly fish, but in order to do so we would need advice. So, when my friends parents were out, we went searching for fishing magazines that we knew his Dad had, with the intention of learning the art of catching carp.
Bob Nudd, make me proud!
The search in the garage yielded no results and there were none in the downstairs cupboard so we commenced our search of his parents bedroom. Sure enough, in the top shelf of his Dad's wardrobe, we could see a picture of Bob Nudd -- a championship angler -- poking out from a pile of magazines. We had found the motherload and smiled in anticipation at learning how to fish like a pro. My friend, being the taller one, reached up and grabbed the magazine, pulling with all his might. This was when it happened...
With a yank, the whole pile of magazines collapsed out of the cupboard and fell onto my friend, literally knocking him back onto the bed behind as they poured out of the closet. The fishing magazine was buried -- along with my friend -- amongst the most humongous pile of porn magazines I have ever (and will ever) see. One magazine even landed, open, with a centre page spread on my friends chest.
My point here is that we were not looking for smut, nor were we interested in it, but our childish search for fishing magazines instead led to my friend being literally buried alive by porn. When my friend lifted the centre page spread from his chest, his reaction was not, "Whoa, that's nice" but "What the fuck is that?Urggh!"
Yes, my friend. That was a vagina.
We frantically pushed the magazines back into the cupboard, ignoring the pages that appeared to be stuck together and tried to assemble them into the same order as before. There was no curiosity to look into the unknown any further, we just made off with Bob Nudd and tried to wipe the experience from our minds. The funny thing is, my friend was pulled up at a later date by his Dad who had apparently kept an 'order' to the magazines and had guessed that his son had found the stash. His assumption was that he'd searched for it; the truth was it had almost killed him.
Children are not interested in porn until their teens and when we were introduced to it at a young age, rather than being aroused, we were put off it for a good while. There is no way to completely 'protect' children against porn and there is no need to go to extraordinary lengths to do so.
Obviously, times have changed and now the internet is the worlds largest library of pornographic material. The ease in which people can access porn, even accidentally, is quite staggering. I always used to joke that anyone could find a picture of a naked lady within 30 seconds of logging on, even on a blocked PC. I've not yet been proved wrong.
A good example of this was experienced during my time at college. I was 17 and studying Geology. Most of our time was spent in the classroom studying rock types and formations however we did occasionally get a chance for a field trip or, on this particular day, a trip to the computer room. We were learning about igneous intrusions and our tutor urged us to use the internet to find examples of them and in doing so, he managed to accidentally get every computer profile in the class blocked for a week.
An igneous intrusion is where rock strata has had magma injected into it, leaving a 'blob' or 'sheet' of volcanic rock surrounded by softer rock. There are many types of these and when searching for batholiths, sills and diapirs we quickly found what we were looking for. When it came to dykes however, our results were inconsistant at best.
Some of us found this:
Whereas some of us found this:
Obviously I had not wanted to search for porn but that was exactly what I found. It is worse with the modern internet search engines because it seems that typing in something as innocent as 'tea cup for girls' is likely to bring up results '2 girls 1 cup' and all fetishes related to cups. Despite this, I don't think young children are going to be tempted to click on the more filthy links and if they do, boy will they regret it.
Teenagers on the other hand will search for porn. They will search for it and they WILL find it and nothing in Heaven or Earth can stand between a teenager and porn. Even if he doesn't find porn in the strictest sense, anything with any iota of flesh showing will do: FHM, Art websites, African tribes, science websites anything and I mean ANYTHING will do. All this means is it's completely futile to try and stop a teenager from accessing porn and preventing access or making it difficult to get hold of will only add to the fun of trying to find it.
So what do I say to parents trying to discourage their children, or teenagers, from accessing porn? Show them the most sordid, horrible, disgusting, foul material you can get your hands on. Show them the horrors of the internet and suddenly, it might not seem quite as much fun.
Tuesday, 22 February 2011
Dead Space 2 Review (PC)
OK, it's unusual for this blog but I feel that since there's not much going on in the world at the moment (that I understand enough to make fun of) I'm going to give my opinion on something which people may relate to a little more. A computer game!
So, for those of you who have played the first Dead Space you will be familiar with where the story left off but for those of you who haven't, and don't want to spoil the fun by going onto Wikipedia to find out, I will give a summary:
*WARNING - SPOILERS*
In the first game, engineer Isaac Clarke was sent along with a small team to a 'planet cracking' mining ship -- the USG Ishimura -- that had ceased contact with all authorities and appeared to be floating dead in space (haha, get it?). Heartstrings were pulled when it became obvious that Isaac was on the mission not only because the ship needed to be fixed but because his girlfriend was on board. After 'shocking' in, the ship docks (or rather crashes) on board the Ishimura only to find that the crew have in fact been completely wiped out (save for a couple of psychopaths) and morphed into horrifying alien creatures called 'Necromorphs' following the removal of an artifact called 'the marker' from the planet below. Isaac almost immediately finds himself alone and has to fight his way through the ship, completing ever-increasingly difficult tasks in an attempt to survive and then to get off the ship. Que a couple of twists and Isaac discovering that the marker was removed by a religious cult called 'Unitologists' with fingers in all the right pies. Soon it becomes obvious that just escaping the terror is not enough. It falls to Isaac to return the marker to the planet below, and kill the hive mind by shooting it in it's gooey yellow bits. The first game ended with Isaac escaping the planet as a huge plug of rock hurtles into it after being released by the Ishimura's gravity tethers.
Dead Space 2 carries on the story three years later than the first game. For those of you who have not watched the Dead Space animated films or played the less successful games released between then the story may be a little confusing at first, not that it affects the gameplay. Issac wakes up in a hospital bed and straight jacket within a massive 'space city' known as The Sprawl. He is awoken to find that a Necromorph infestation has occurred in the city and a mass evacuation is taking place. The first level of this game is perhaps the most tense and best of all the horror games I've played. You are immediately thrown into the action when the person reviving you (a character from the games released between Dead Space and Dead Space 2) is killed and turned into a Necromorph. At this point you get up, still in a straight jacket, dodging Necromorphs as you run for your life.
Yeah, I look like Optimus Prime.
(artwork courtesy of videogamesblogger.com)
It's a tense and effective ordeal . You see other patients being attacked in their cells and the screams of victims as they meet their demise and this only adds to the overall believability of this first portion. Thankfully, you are soon released from your bonds but still have to endure another long period of fighting with only a torch and kinesis to aid you. When you finally get into your engineers RIG, it stands out as an immediately cool moment and, unlike the first game, you feel that Isaac really is at home and it far more ready than before to fight.
The pace of the game is good, but this doesn't take away from the jumps which are frequent and as effective as the first game. I'd be lying if I didn't say some of them are a tad predictable but it's the sounds, or sometimes complete lack of them, which causes the most tension and sets up some of the best scare moments. I must admit, these moments do ease off a little after you get into the suit as you don't feel as 'alone' as you did aboard the Ishimura. The fact that you can also 'fly' around in the zero-gravity areas mean that your view feels less restricted than that of the first game. Despite this, there is a prolonged sense of catastrophe and you get to see citizens as they are violently attacked by the aliens and on more than one occasion this creates a sense of hopelessness that I thought impossible for a game.
In Dead Space 2 we encounter a number of new aliens (along with most of the old ones), including the 'puker' which is probably my favourite of the newbies. This Necromorph is more humanoid than the ones we've encountered before and vomits a caustic liquid onto you which eats away at your health. If you're too close, you may get to see Isaac have a particularly brutal demise at the hands of one of these whereas at a distance, they will spray the liquid from afar. Once again, the brutal violence of this game is not over the top nor gratuitous, but paced and believable considering the circumstances. The other new Necromorphs include a tripod type creature that is one of the new 'boss' type enemies (although not as difficult to beat as the charging brute from the first game) and a small, crawling infant with a bloated yellow belly. These disturbing creatures explode when they get close, and are introduced during a particularly unsettling scene. There are also hordes of crying mutated children which attack en masse and are creepy as hell and finally a strange, two legged creature that charges and rams you from afar.
This is probably the only new alien I'm not overly fond of. Whilst they are kind of creepy when you see them poking their heads around the corner before they attack, this also makes them a bit predictable and I dare say the beasties are kind of cute; sort of reminding me of a dinosaur off 'The Land Before Time' rather than a hideously transformed corpse. The sounds they make also seem to also be directly taken from that a kids movie.
Aw, a small child... Kill it! Kill it!
Perhaps the scariest level on the game -- and one that had me literally desperate to escape -- was where you return to the decommissioned Ishimura that was bought to The Sprawl after the first game. It's corridors may have been mostly cleared and cleaned but audio logs describing 'strange noises' and effective background sounds combined with the visions of Isaac's dead girlfriend help to maintain tension and make you eager to get off the ship. Despite the terror, there is a little humour, especially when you're on board an Ishimura tram when you're informed that the Necromorphs have breached the medical deck and you should be OK if you avoid it... at which point the tram breaks down and calmly states that you've arrived at the medical deck.
I mentioned that you never feel alone and the reason for this is because you are in constant voice contact (that's right, Isaac is not the weird mute he was from the first game) with other characters. These include the main aggressor, Hans Tiedemann, a sexy female called Ellie Langford and a crazed ex-patient called Nolan Stross. The voice acting is exceptional and really helps to move the story along with a sense of purpose and believability. It is, obviously, Isaac who is the main star of this story. The haunting visions of his dead girlfriend and his reactions to these along with his frustrations and ever-growing strengths help to add an extra depth to him. There are some uber cool moments including a few frantic zero-g combat episodes, a tense scene where you fight whilst hanging upside-down and finally a truly bollock-tingling moment where Isaac dodges space debris whilst flying before finally falling through a series of vents, crashing through a floor and executing a perfect landing.
The ending for the game was a little disappointing, both because of the ease in which it was completed and because it is the end of what is otherwise a truly awesome game. In fact, I would recommend seasoned Dead Space fans to play the whole game on the hard setting, simply because earlier levels are a little easy and there is an abundance of credits and ammo on the normal setting (until the later levels).
There is a multiplayer function for this game -- something which Dead Space didn't include -- however, I've not had the chance to play this portion of the game yet. As a fan of the story and the horror, I'm not expecting the multiplayer to be great, simply because these aspects are going to be taken away from the game and replaced with fast action and lots of shooting which has never been the reason I've played games of this genre.
All in all, Dead Space 2 carries on perfectly where its predecessor left off: continuing an awesome story, developing an awesome character and succeeding in making you jump out of your skin. Play with the sound turned up, the lights turned off, and a jumbo pack of adult nappies at the ready.
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