Heroes is my crack addiction

Because try as I might to quit it, I just keep going back. I'm actually very curious about the fugitives arc, but I'll get to that in a second. First the month-late review of the half-season finale. Now I actually have to say I didn't completely hate this episode. It had some serious, serious flaws, but there were parts about it that I enjoyed. Unfortunately all of those parts were ruined shortly thereafter by shitty writing and shittier acting.

The "Sylar Plays Saw" plot was interesting in theory. It was cool that he locked them all up to play mind-games with them. However, like any Villain he let his own shit get in the way and it ruined everything. Putting Noah in with firemom hopped up on adrenaline was actually really cool. I wish there had been a bit more fighting between sylar and the convicts they released. It was all rather anti-climatic. Even puppetman was over before he started. And then Sylar died, which I'm actually ok with. But the Angela/Sylar scene was also kind of a letdown. I enjoy both characters immensely and this scene was lacking something. Sidenote: how did little Claire suffer NO kickback from that shotgun blast? Sidenote 2: How the fuck did Noah and Claire manage to OUTRUN that stupid blast? Such bad CG during that episode. And why did firemom have to die exactly? I know Adrenaline is a bitch, but she had been holding that shit back for long enough that the adrenaline should have subsided slightly. And couldn't she have gone outside and exploded? It seemed like kind of a plot hole, but I'm willing to forgive it if the companies are now behind us.

The Peter/Nathan scenes also made little to no sense. I just don't understand why Nathan changed sides so quickly. He was all "We have to stop dad" and suddenly "DAD'S RIGHT. DEATH TO THE NORMALS" Beg pardon? And how the fuck did ALL of the red goo get changed? Did papa petrelli manage to lay on hands to every container in the room? And what pisses me off about all of this shit is how these stick-pens-of-goo are the now go-to plot device, and it annoys me. It's like the fortune-telling-comic-books. And now that Mohinder has taken the correct serum will he still have his wanna-be-spider-man abilities? And was anyone else annoyed that Peter taking the serum gave him the EXACT SAME powers as he had before?

And who can forget Terrific Trio of Ando, Matt, and Daphne. While I thought it would have been cool to reveal that Hiro has been pulling strings for the last 16 years and is actually in charge of something, that clearly would have required too much planning on the writers' part. How long until he takes the magic-sticky-pen-o-powers and gets his time traveling back? Because without them I'm done with his character. Ando's new powers were actually kind of cool, how he powers up people. But I didn't like that him powering up Daphne allowed her to run about through time. If she could go back in time that might be cool (albeit nonsensical) but how does she run forward through time so well? And Time Travel really isn't something you just understand. Shouldn't the running sensation be different somehow? And what really confused me is, when she first pops back in time, she is watching herself, and then when she watches herself get sucked back in time again you can see kind of an after image of Daphne appearing next to her. How the hell is that possible if the after image would be when she first appeared 2 minutes earlier? I guess it's because I'm a ginormous geek but these sorts of things really, really bother me and as a result completely take me out of the story. Not that taking myself out of the story would really kill much.

Despite all of the Heroes rants I've had recently, I will probably tune in to the new volume when it comes back. I heart Brian Fuller, and he comes back halfway through the volume as I understand it. And the giant nationwide hunt for Mutants seems like it could be interesting. I am just looking for a bit more epic scope from this series. Like, they don't seem to have any long-term plans and it bothers me. So with any luck the show will get back on track. And if it doesn't at least I will have shit to bitch about.

England Trip Part 3: The non-England part

It occurred to me on my drive in to work this morning that if I didn't write down my Paris memories, they would quickly become too foggy to make an interesting blog post (this of course assuming that people find the previous England posts interesting). So lets start with us getting up at like 6 despite going to bed VERY drunk at 2:30 the previous night. That was a blast! Anyway we manage to make it to the train station and then to Heathrow. Of course for the first time in my entire life I got stopped for an inspection because we forgot about the liquid restrictions. Brian had to give up a semi-expensive bottle of hair product because god knows we could take over the plane by fixing their hair. So we get to the gate (which was the scariest thing ever. It was kind of like herding into a slaughterhouse.) and then get to wait because apparently the flight crew couldn't clear security. This probably should have concerned me, but really all it did was annoy me because I wanted to get on the damned plane. And you know, I've said this before, but after taking numerous 16+ hour flights, any other plane flight seems short. This being said the trip to Paris was less than an hour. Yet for some reason they decided to serve food. And I've never been on a flight with such retarded people.

So enough complaining. Brian and Mattie were in Paris! Charles de Gaulle I don't really feel as an airport, but no serious complaints. It was a damned good thing we decided to buy the Paris guidebook at Heathrow. Even as it was Brian failed to trust in my navigation skills and dragged me off the train at a random station, only to have me drag him back onto another one with promises that if we got into trouble I would take the lead. We got to our hotel, which was this cute little boutique hotel with a color theme, and I really liked it except for the bathroom door which didn't close properly (or quietly, for that matter). We had a red-themed room, which was cool. And it was in a fairly convenient area, as we could walk to the Bastille and take the metro from there. By the time we finally got settled and rested, it was late, so we decided to see the Louvre. The glass pyramid is pretty awesome, I have to say. And the rest of the museum is neat because you know how old the paintings are, even if there are TOO MANY for my personal taste. We got to see the Mona Lisa, which was cool. Unfortunately the Egyptian exhibit was closed, but the greek statues were also pretty cool. Afterward we walked down the Seine for a bit. Paris is absolutely, postively, the most gorgeous city I've ever been to, especially at night. The view across the Seine was fantastic, and I wish my camera was better so I could have accurately captured it. After that we walked to a Brasserie and had a meal. This is where we realized that Brian apparently looks European, as no one spoke English to him. We were told before we went that if you didn't speak French perfectly, all Parisians would start speaking English to you, but apparently this isn't the case with Brian, as he got nothing but French from every person we met. I got English, because I scream American Tourist in that stupid yellow coat. It was actually amusing and Brian freaked out about it each time. And side note the food in Paris was also excellent. We went to the places recommended in our guide, and it was always fantastic.

The next day we got up semi-early and headed to the Champs Elysses. After Japan seeing all the designer brand stores isn't quite as incredible, but it was still cool to be there. We walked up to the Arc de Triomphe (sorry for the bad spelling) and then down to the Eiffel Tower. So many damned beggars who apparently speak enough English to be annoying. We went up in the Eiffel Tower, but really once you're up, there's not much else to do. Not that I expected much else. But I can now say "I've been there!" After this we metro'd over to Notre Dame, saw the cathedral, which was really cool. It was made cooler by the fact that the sun finally came out by this time. The place is freaking HUGE. We didn't go up in the bell tower because frankly we didnt' care, but the architecture and stained glass inside were really pretty and cool.

Then we went to this tavern on the edge of the island that Notre Dame is on. A bottle of wine, a plate of pate, and a ginourmous cheese plate later we were done lunch, and walked towards the Metro. We stopped in this REALLY cool fantasy art store, with pictures of dragons and fairies all over the place. Brian bought me an awesome Dragon art book in FRENCH as my souvenir, which makes me love him all the more. Then we got on the metro in search of shopping destinations Brian had picked out. You can imagine his distress when he couldn't find things in his size. I swear I thought he was going to buy a 300 euro jacket that was a size too big just so he could say he bought something at a Paris fashion boutique, but he didn't. After this we decide to metro it to the Champs Elysses, because it was night and there was a Christmas village type thing set up. Of course there was some issue with the metro being stopped, so we decided to walk a little bit. It would have been fine if it wasn't A) so freaking cold B) I wasn't getting sick, and C) Brian's knee hadn't given out on him at some point during the trip. Also I kind of got lost halfway through, which freaked me out. We finally found our way back to the Seine though, and again, absolutely GORGEOUS at night. So, so, so pretty.

The Champs Elysse Marche du Noel was really neat, with lots of little shops up and down the street. I got a santa hat that lights up, and Brian got some heated wine. It was so neat with all the lights and the shops and such. Still cold as a witch's tit, but fun! After this we walk towards a wine bar we had picked out of the guide. Again, fantastic food. This old british man who lives in UCLA tried to pick us up after the meal. Brian was mad at me because I was having none of it, and he thought to at least get a free meal out of it. In hindsight I probably should have played along to save money, but I wasn't feeling especially well at the time. After this we went back to the hotel and crashed hard. The next morning all we had time for was to get a bagette before going to the airport and waiting two hours for our delayed flight to finally take off. Yay baggage handler's strike!

Friday night we were back in England, and had an Okonomiyaki party with Brian's Japanese peeps. They were all really nice, but it drove home how bad my Japanese has gotten. It's a shame I dont' study more. It's easy to forget when I don't hear Japanese on a regular basis anymore. Not that I studied especially hard when I was living in Japan, either. Anyway, it was good food and a good time. And that really finished out my England experience. The next day we finished packing and headed off to Heathrow. The whole trip was fantastic and it was good Bao and Mattie time, on top of a good time anyway. I strongly recommend everyone go! I don't know when I'm going next. I want to go in the summer maybe, but I also want to save up some days so that I can go to Japan in the fall. I've been gone so long now, it feels funky.

Anyway, now that I've finally knocked the Paris post out of the way I can fill in the rest of the blanks, such as the Heroes finale.

It's the next step...

in squirrel evolution.

I'm not sure how this will further their attempts at world domination, but I'm sure there's a way.

Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus

Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus

By Francis P. Church, first published in The New York Sun in 1897. [See The People’s Almanac, pp. 1358–9.]

We take pleasure in answering thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of The Sun:

Dear Editor—

I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, “If you see it in The Sun, it’s so.” Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?

Virginia O’Hanlon

Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies. You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if you did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.

England Trip Part 2: The time I met Britney Spears

Time for the next installment in Matt's travel adventure. Picking up where I left off, I spent most of Sunday hungover, and a good portion of it tearing Brian's flat apart looking for my wallet to no avail. Having given up on finding it, we went out to meet more of Brian's friends. Me, Brian, Laura, Lori, and Laela all went to a pub in Oxford which was fun, except the beer was so-so. I had Santa's Tipple, which was not so good. But it was called "Tipple" so not so bad. It was about this time that my dad called to tell us some guy had found my wallet, so this goes to show there's no point in worrying about things. Anyway, we're all sitting down chatting at the pub when this guy sits uncomfortably close behind Laura. Like, so close I thought he knew everyone else and I just didn't. Apparently not so much. He then proceeds to sigh freakishly loud, which startles us into turning around and looking at him, which he then takes as an invitation to start talking to us. He claims he's Britney Spears given the fact that he has a straw sticking out of his hat resembling a microphone. What follows is probably one of the funniest exchanges I've experienced in a long time, where all of us are so very, very put out by first this guy, then his girlfriend, then their other friend all start talking to us. Laela has the excellent talent of making fun of this douchebag to his face and he seems to think we're laughing with him rather than at him. After about 20 minutes of all of us feeling remarkably uncomfortable, Lori and Laela give the "DRINK UP" signal and we hightail it out of there to a houseparty.

The funny thing about the houseparty is the Oxford people I was with knew no one there, so of course I didn't either. We start playing this stupid, stupid drinking game called "G'day Bruce". No point whatsoever, but we each had our own personal bottle of wine that we were swigging from (me not so much, due to the hangover previously mentioned). Once the alcohol had gotten into people's systems the mood lightened up a bit. I met lots of people who I will never rememeber, and at one point Laela and I did some latin dancing. Brian, Laura and I decided to make some positive life choices and got the hell out of there at a decent hour. Somehow Laura managed to fit her bike in the back of the taxi (which was very impressive of her) and we went to get chips, where she proceeded to plan out Brian's and my wedding. Good times!

Monday Brian had a presentation, so he prepped for that a bit and then we walked around in Oxford to see the sights. It's a very pretty city, even if the sun never gets higher than the 30 degree mark in the sky and it's usually cloudy. At at the Bird and Baby again, because pubs are awesome. That night we ate at Jaime's Italian (Jaime Oliver, the naked chef and all.) and then went back and just relaxed. Tuesday Brian had his Japanese test, and then we did some souvenir shopping before getting ready for the night. First we went to a Choir service in the old chapel, which was good but a little too religious for me personally. Best song was Carol of the Bells, which sounded awesome. And then there was "Tomorrow is my dancing day" which was a much-agreed-upon mess. Then we had mulled wine and mincemeat pies in the common room before going to Christmas Hall. Dinner was alright, but the crackers were my favorite part. Not crackers as in bread products, but in the popper things that have a paper crown inside. I felt so British! Afterwards we went down to the bar and Lori and I played pool, which both of us completely suck at, before moving onto Taboo. Overall much fun, but we stayed up way too late given the fact that we had to be up at like 5:30 to get ready for Paris.

Paris deserves it's own post, so I will do that later. Long story short it was awesome.

Long ass posts

It's come to my attention that the last several posts have been ridiculously long. I will try to keep them shorter, but I have reviews of Housewives and Heroes to do, and I have to finish my London story, so there probably won't be any short ones for a bit. I apologize for the Wall-O-Text.

Side-note.

England Trip Part 1: I would kill for a chips van on my street.

So this will be my "England/Paris Trip" post. It will probably take me a while, and as a result be written in pieces during the day, so it may not flow so well, but I'll try to maintain the narrative.

I landed at Heathrow at like 7:15 in the morning on Saturday, after an almost full day of work and a 6 hour flight. The best part of the flight was the little girl next to me who was coughing up one of her tiny lungs and crying whenever the flight attendants insisted she be put in her own seat. Her mother was nice enough though. Anyway I get off the plane and hop on the train to Paddington and meet up with Bao. Paddington station was fucking freezing, and the sun hadn't even come up yet. Good times. But I had a pasty! I miss British baked meat products. I don't remember what was in it, but it tasted good, and the place had a pirate on the sign.

So then we proceeded to walk down to Hyde Park, just because I had heard the name before, and Kensington Palace was there. So we took this really circuitous route past some big statues and Kensington Palace. Brian couldn't stop remarking on how small the palace was and how large the park was. Of course it didn't help that the sun hadn't come up yet and it was fucking freezing. Then I dragged him literally across the park to this "Christmas Festival" that they were advertising on some signs. Such a waste of time. It hadn't technically opened, but they were touting the "Largest Ice Rink in England". Or maybe it was London. Either way, the whole thing was just slightly bigger than my Japan apartment. Apparently ice rinks in England suck. Then we started walking and literally stumbled upon Buckingham Palace. Then, because we had no map and didn't realize we were doing everything wrong, we hopped on the underground and went to the Tower of London. We crossed the bridge and then walked back toward Big Ben and the Millenium Eye, which I thought was right next door, and it really wasn't. But the upside was we got to see a cute little market, and the Globe. The Globe giftshop really made Shakespeare cool. Big Ben was like any other famous landmark: You're really excited to see it, and then you take 50 pictures, and then you're thinking "OK, NEXT". I had wanted to go up in the Eye but the line was wrapped around itself like 50 times, and it was located in like four places, so I couldn't figure out which line was for what.

After seeing the big sights, we went to Picadilly Circus to eat at the Japan Center. My Japanese has gotten so rusty, it's sad. Then we walked up towards Oxford circus. It was actually really, really cool because they shut-down the street for Christmas shoppers, and they had performers on stilts and in costumes. They also gave out balloons, which children kept releasing. It took all my willpower not to grab one of them and scream "YOU JUST KILLED A DOLPHIN" not because i care so much about Dolphins, but because I like scaring young children into not being a burden on society. At this point I'm completely exhausted though, and the only things really left to do in London are to go to a museum, which I wasn't really feeling, so we go to Paddington station, pay an obscene amount of money to get new tickets because they can't just exchange them, and we're off to Oxford.

Once we get into Oxford, we go to Brian's apartment, which is actually pretty nice, I thought. It was a little rundown, and the communal areas needed a little help, but his room was really nice. I showered and we relaxed before dinner, which was nice. Then we headed off to this Pub called the Eagle and Child (it's also sometimes called the Bird and Baby, and Brian insists "Bird and Bastard" is also used but everyone else did not agree). I had bangers and mash! And a pint of beer. Not british beer, but it's fine. I got to meet Sayaka and Cathryn, who are both hysterical. I love British pubs so much, I wish we had more around here.

After dinner we went down to the St. Cross college bar, where I met Aneliegh (spell check) and Laura, who are also quite entertaining. Katja came later too, but I'll get to that. Anyway we start drinking the college wine and chatting, which is fun. Aneleigh brings out this box of really old books that Oxford is just getting rid of. They were from the 1800s, at least, and in several different languages. Only in Oxford do they have excess books in Latin and Greek. After about two bottles of wine and Katja coming to visit, I have the brilliant idea to play a drinking game. Brilliant of course being sarcastic. So we play 21, which is actually a really fun game that I won't explain here, and I get trashed, apparently. The end of the night is hazy due to my blacking out. Whoops!

From what I've figured out, I broke a glass in the bar, and then we went out to get a Kebab from the van. These vans are amazing! They only come out at night, but they sell kebabs and chips and they're amazing and fantastic. I miss them already. Then we get in the taxi, and apparently about 5 minutes from Brian's flat I start repeating "I'm going to be sick, I'm going to be sick" and Brian is very much "No you're not" so the taxi stops and I launch myself and spew in the bushes. Good times. It's about this time I lost my wallet, I think, but more on that later. Then Brian manages to drag me and the food up to the flat, and I throw up in the toilet. Then he puts me in the shower, where I again throw up, before FALLING DOWN. I have scrapes on my back and knee to prove it. And I would apparently not get up, either. Good times. Eventually I get into bed, clothed, and fall asleep.

This Giant post was just my first day in England. Craziness. But it was fun. The next day I was sick but not as sick as the blacking out and throwing up would have indicated. At about 5 I realize I've lost my wallet, which is suck-tastic, but luckily one of Brian's neighbors found it and I eventually got it back. I'll continue with the rest of my Oxford adventures in another post, and Paris will probably be it's own post as well. And some day I will get pictures up.