George’s Blog

What is it today with the depiction of vampires? It’s hard to admit this, because it takes my self-proclaimed geekiness to a whole new creepy level. But I used to LARP. It was when I was in Nuclear Power School. And the RP game we played was Vampire: The Masquerade (VTM).

LARP-ing is kind of like what happens when cops-n-robbers meets D&D. A bunch of people get together, take on fictional roles, and walk around their city/town/whatever in character, within the limits of the game (i.e., no ACTUALLY sucking people’s blood). Combat is decided by a glorified game of rock-paper-scissors.

There’s a line in “Interview with a Vampire” where Tom Cruises bloodsucker is explaining their existence. He says “We are vampires, pretending to be human, pretending to be vampires.” Well, VTM could be described as a bunch of geeky humans, pretending to be vampires, pretending to be human. In order to play the role right, you had to be a vampire, and that nature would show in your interactions with other “vampires” and in certain interactions with non-playing “humans”. But the trick was that no “human” should ever guess that you’re a vampire.

That’s the Masquerade. There’s a reason for the Masquerade.

Because vampires are fucking evil.

As some one who’s read many a vampire novel, and actually played the role of one Friday and Saturday nights for about 7 months, I’m really disappointed by all the Twilight and to a lesser extent Tru Blood crap out there.

There are, as in any culture, a few noble heroes. In the vampire world, from a human perspective, the “heroes” would be the bloodsuckers that haven’t given in to the urges of the beast within. However, the vast majority of the vampire population doesn’t go out of it’s way to make friends with the humans, or protect them, or fall in love with them.

They feed on them.

These shows are stripping the gore and fear out of the vampire mythos. They are destroying a wondrously terrifying concept by diluting it in longing looks and cleavage shots.

Let me enlighten the writers of these inane shows: the vampire concept doesn’t need any more sexual tension. The very bite of a vampire is already an allegory for sex and penetration. And vampires are not nice. They are barely, and I mean barely, only by the slightest margin better than the beast that calls them from within. If it wasn’t for the fear of permanent death and the instinct for self preservation, they would suck you dry in the grocery store and leave you there, in front of everybody. The only reason they don’t is because it would reveal their existence, which would be bad for said existence.

Can we please leave the scary as scary without making it into a parody of sexy?

Before I get into the meat of the post, I wanted to point out that a lot of my future titles will be coming from World of Warcraft. Why? Because it’s a rather large part of my life. I know, it’s a game, and I treat it as such. But it’s also an escape for me and a way to interact with other people. I haven’t been fair to WoW in my blog, mentioning it only in passing, out of the shame and stigma that playing such a game tends to generate. So even though I don’t intend to write a lot of posts only about the game, I will be making more references to it. Now, without further ado…

I’m coming to the realization that my depression is less psychological than chemical. On one hand, If this turns out to be the case, I can fell solace in the fact that it really isn’t my fault by virtue of the way I’ve handled things in my life. On the other hand, it’s really crappy because it will mean I’ll be on head meds for the rest of my life.

After a lot, and I mean a LOT of self-reflection (if you suffer from depression, you’ll know that this is something that us depressed people do a LOT) I can look back on my life and see many, many signs pointing to an earlier start to this disease than I had originally thought. Actually, I hadn’t really though much about it’s origins, but now that I have…

The times when I was at my best mentally were times when I had a combination of two things; activity (mental/physical) and a social support structure.

Example (BIG example); Tarpon Springs High School Band. This band was my family. It was my life. It kept me active (lugging around percussion equipment, playing some of the hardest percussion parts in any high school), and I was surrounded by a wonderful emotional support system, to the point of meeting my wife there. All this took place during a rather tumultuous time in my life.

Example of when things were not so great: Elementary school band. I was never a popular kid. I got picked on a lot. When I first started percussion, in fourth grade, I would seclude myself in the corner of the room and surround myself with music stands.

There are many more examples for both situation, but I’ll trust you get the idea.

In January, our company insurance is switching to a new provider, and it is then that I will begin my hunt for a therapist. It’ll be interesting to see what comes out of it. Last time I gave my background to a psychiatrist, they said “Wow. That’s some history.”

It’s odd to hear a shrink be impressed.

As many of you know, my discharge form the Navy was under less-than-desirable circumstances. I still managed to escape with an Honorable discharge, but it was, to date, my biggest failure.

I was kicked out because I was fat. I was Too Fat To Serve.

Thus the changing of all of my screen aliases from NukeEMUSN ( Nuclear Electricians Mate US Navy) to TooFat2Serve.

Recently, my doc noted that I have high blood pressure. Not high enough to medicate, but high enough to mention it. Couple that with my other body issues (feet, back, knees), and I’m slowly killing myself. At the very least, I’m working towards a major body-breaking event.

So I need to do something about it. I’ve needed to do something about it for quite some time now. I have let it go too long. I feel like Bilbo in “Lord of the Ring,” right before he pulls a disappearing act.

Problem is, I don’t quite know WHAT I’m going to do about it yet.

We’ve adjusted our home eating habits and I’m being careful about what I get when I’m in the city. Probably going to adjust it more, but given that I’m an eating machine, it’ll take time to adjust.

So that leaves my nemesis; exercise. A word that I hate so much that I can’t spell it correctly without a spell checker.

I’m way too cheap/broke to join a gym. My foot/knee problems make running a no-go. So I’m going to have to get creative with it. Active video games and calisthenics.

I’ve tweaked a Google Docs spreadsheet as a fat-o-meter. It’s on the right side there. I’m going to track my weight loss on here. I hope you readers (all, like, 5 of you) will keep me accountable.

My first goal is 220lbs. The graph is only going to November 21, but my goal is that weight by about January 21. Slow and steady on this one.

Hopefully, by this time next year, I’ll no longer be too fat to do anything.

This post brought to you be www.blogactionday.org

Mmmm. Environmentalism. Tastes good. Especially with some Favabeans and a nice Chianti.

I am a consumer. I eat. I wipe my ass. I use enough electricity feeding my music, House, and Warcraft habit to power a small planet.

I’m not concerned about the planet.

I’m concerned about me.

That second statement necessitates the first.

All the talk about saving the planet is a bunch of touchy feely political bullshit. The planet has been through meteor strikes, ice ages, tsunamis, earthquakes, volcanoes, floods, you name it. We don’t measure ‘natural disasters’ in damage to Earth. We measure it in human lives.

Because no matter what we do, Earth will still be here. Something will survive and flourish.

Climate change? Bah. It’s us or the cockroaches and moss.

Do we need to change our ways? Only if we want to survive and give our kids something to inherit. “Natural disasters” come in two forms. Their either Earths way of saying “wake up,” or they’re earths way of balancing the equation. Either way, we’re screwed.

We can’t do anything about the equation. Plates will shift, stuff will break or be consumed in fire and ash. That is not our fault. But if we can eliminate the “wake up” part, though, we stand a much better chance of surviving.

If we can reduce our collective belching into the atmosphere, we can at least avoid a few. With less warming, we’ll have fewer hurricanes, tornadoes, and other atmospheric weather phenomena. These are Earth’s way of taking a cold shower. They dissipate atmospheric energy in an efficient (for Earth) and deadly (for us) manner.

Another much trumpeted effect of reducing the human industrial flatulence problem is that our ice can stay ice, and thus our coastal cities can avoid becoming a human Seaworld.

So for fucks sake, let’s get our collective act together. Not for the planet, but to save our own sorry asses.

Thanks to “Mind of a Mad Woman” for making me aware of Blog Action Day.

I’ve got flat feet. I’ve always known this. What I didn’t realize, until my podiatrist appointment the other day, was just how flat they are.

Any time a doctor uses the words “severely” and “only” in the same visit, it’s bad.

“You have severely flat feet.”

“The only thing that will help are some ortho-somethings for your shoes.”

No magic pills, no admonition to lose weight. Because anything I do won’t help. Even if I slim down, my feet, and thus the alignment of my body, will still be jacked up.

What’s worse is that my insurance won’t cover the $600 for the inserts.

And the pills I got subscribed are $94 for a months’ supply.

I want a second opinion, but even so, it looks like upgrading the aging innards of my computer will have to wait.