Repose Blog | - Part 3

The Secret Legend of the American Ninja’s Blood Hunt Confrontation Annihilation

In my last article I mentioned a very near and very dear old high school friend of mine. Sam the American Ninja. Somehow, if you could combine the utter awesomeness of all the American Ninja movies (somehow the count got to four, which goes to show artists who cannot get their scripts accepted must really suck), and sort of mashed it into the corporeal form of one human being, you would end up with a walking avatar of 1980′s film making wizardry. What you probably wouldn’t end up with is Sam, because nothing about Sam was cool… even in a cheesy 80s action flick way. What I mean is this… the American Ninja films are a million times less painful to you in the long run than a ten-minute conversation with this man was. Let me give you Sam’s back story according to him, and before you ask… yes this is based on actual things he told me. Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction, well at least if that truth is in fact, fiction itself.

* * *

On a dark and stormy night an American Solider, stationed in Japan was killed by a clan of evil Ninjas. His widow, fearful for her life knew that she had to protect her son, so she gave up her child and left him at a stranger’s doorstep and disappeared into the night. The child was raised by the kind stranger… a wise old man who actually turned out with his dog ‘Interceptor’ to be … Ninja Master Shadow. One day young Sam caught his master training in a forest clearing while he was fetching water from the well. Shadow was standing there and all around him pots were dangling from ropes in the trees. Then suddenly, there was a great rush of wind and all the pots exploded! But, and this must be stressed while I say this, in order to get the full effect you have to imagine someone whispering this to you, Shadow never moved. Also, this was totally not ripped off of those god awful Three Ninjas movies about the 2 skinny kids and 1 fat kid who defeated entire clans of ninjas with corny jokes and nerf guns. Then, Shadow turned to Sam.

“Sam, today is the day that you must decide if you wish to learn the ways of the Ninja, for you have seen me practicing and now you know the truth and cannot stay if you do not take a vow of secrecy and swear under the ninja code that you will not reveal this truth to any outsiders. Wahtaaaaaaaaaaa!”

“You told me that Ninjas killed my family! How can I trust you now you stupid old man! I will get my revenge and avenge my family by getting revenge and defeating you thereby getting vengeance! Eat my American fists of justice!”

Click to continue reading “The Secret Legend of the American Ninja’s Blood Hunt Confrontation Annihilation”
Go straight to Post

Popularity: 1% [?]

Of Guild Wars, Platitudes, and the American Ninja

Platitudes. Everyone speaks them, few understand how utterly obnoxious they can be. Rewind to a few months ago, I was on my ventrilo server (as in my, I own it) with my guild mates from Guild Wars. Allow me to sort of explain that, the Guild Wars thing I mean. You see, I purchased Guild Wars a long time ago, actually about four years ago when it first came out for the PC. I was looking for an RPG to play online with my friends that wasn’t an MMO. Since Guild Wars is a co-operative role playing game and not a persistent world MMO, I thought I would enjoy it. Little did I know the horrors that awaited me. Little did I know…

Let me plant a visual in your head to sort of describe the game play experience I’ve had while playing Guild Wars. You see, Guild Wars allows you to play solo, by bringing AI henchmen. You can’t solo a god damn thing unless you’re farming or vastly experienced, and the first expansion was so bug ridden you had to do some missions five times in a row in order to enchant each piece of your equipment, leading to annoyance and mostly rage. The first six months I sort of struggled through Guild Wars was kind of like fighting that crazy asshole Mike Tyson in an electrified cage when he’s got boxing gloves that are actually spiked gauntlets and I’m armed only with a really soft pillow and armor made out of novelty plastic ears. I chose a Warrior, because I always enjoy getting the Melee classes to do neat little tricks. I decided to make my secondary class Elementalist. So I’d be basically a Spellsword. If you’ve played guild wars you know where this is going, if you haven’t let me tell you something about that combination of classes… it only works in specialized circumstances, or when you know what the fuck you are doing. Thankfully, I didn’t. So I gleefully wandered around getting killed, the sheer variety of places I manged to get myself killed was really the only adventure I got to experience in my brave journey though Tyria. Dead in a marsh. Dead in a desert. Dead in a magical flying castle. Dead in a river. Dead on a mountain summit. Dead in river of molten lava, giving a dramatic thumbs up much like The Terminator. Dead in a pristine field surrounded by bunnies, piggies and magical rainbows that reflect the innocence of a child’s dream playfully in the sky. Dead along with my worthless, inept, AI controlled companions.

The face of uselessness.

If you decide to go on a magical quest to save the world armed only with good intentions and a heart for adventure and these are the faces you see when you go to town to assemble a party, for your safety and sanity’s sake, just turn around and go home. Trust me.

Click to continue reading “Of Guild Wars, Platitudes, and the American Ninja”
Go straight to Post

Popularity: 2% [?]

My Favorite Words are ‘Good-Bye.’

Over the course of my being alive, both online and off, circumstances have adapted me to an inclination to finding detachment preferable to prolonged interactions and relationships. There was a book on AD/HD I read that stated this would be the case, but I find it somewhat disconcerting that most of my personality can be attributed to symptoms of some psychological disease. It is as though, rather than having my fate pre-determined by a god or religion, my genetics have damned me to a life of aloofness and detachment. It is bearing this in mind that I have endeavored to try and fight this nature of mine, and the results have been interesting.

The main thing I have noticed is that fighting one’s nature is a losing battle. The symptoms to me, read somewhat like a road map to my life. Each symptom reflecting a bad decision or a moment I regret. The thing is, as I’ve come to accept over the past couple of years, is that there is no cure or fix to this problem. Most AD/HD medications don’t work long-term, therapy is just an expensive coping mechanism, and trying to curtail the behavior only works to a point. What I’ve done instead is to stop myself before I do/say anything and ask myself if that’s what I should be doing. It’s hard to overcome that desire to just do things without compulsion or reason.

AD/HD to me, is kind of like having several radio stations bleed together as one in your head. Whereas a normal person would hear a single station, clear and crisp, in my mind everything comes in at once and it’s so hard to focus on one. You notice every little thing around yourself as though your mind is constantly looking for distractions. Even while I try to sit and concentrate on typing this sentence, just this sentence I’m not even going to mention the rest of this post, I’ve been temped to play with my cat who’s on top of the monitor, make food even though I’m not hungry, browse a book on the mob that’s on my desk, and call someone on the phone. It’s a never-ending struggle to keep myself on a single train of thought.

Click to continue reading “My Favorite Words are ‘Good-Bye.’”
Go straight to Post

Popularity: 1% [?]

Linguistic Mystics

Categories

The Library of Discontent

User Menu

Recent Posts

The Secret Legend of the American Ninja’s Blood Hunt Confrontation Annihilation

Of Guild Wars, Platitudes, and the American Ninja

My Favorite Words are ‘Good-Bye.’

Jam Box

Consider This

The Monolithic Horizon Series