BRAIN DRAIN

In sports news, it would appear that professional chess is now mired in its own fair share of controversy.

The good news is that it has nothing whatsoever to do with steroids. For obvious reasons.

The bad news is that the controversy has everything to do with a tournament player’s right to go to the bathroom in between matches.

As ridiculous as it sounds, it does make a strange amount of sense.

OH, THE IRONY
Spent a week making sense of my econometrics textbook - which literally contains so much Greek, it’s not funny anymore - anticipating a minor quiz. Did okay for myself, with the exception of one question. Of course, it was the question with the single most number of points to it.

Not exactly the auspicious start to the semester I was hoping for. Sometimes there is no justice. More so given that the results will be recorded, in spite of the professor’s proclamation on the syllabus to the contrary.

And here I am sounding like I’m in high school again. Yeesh. Once a nerd…

ALL HAIL THE POSTMAN (AND AMAZON.COM)
It’s strange. Each time the postman comes by with my most recent order from Amazon.com, my day just feels that much better.

Such is their power over me.

Amazon has become my preferred comic book/graphic novel delivery system. Don’t get me wrong: my neighborhood comic book store, Midtown Comics, is by far the best retailer I’ve ever had the pleasure to visit it’s almost a religious experience just being there. They also take care of their clientele very well: set up an account with them, and for every $100 you spend on graphic novels they reward you with $20 of store credit. The difference is that Amazon usually discounts the graphic novels over 20%, purchases on Amazon are tax-free, and I can get shipping free if I’m willing to wait over a week for the merchandise (hell yes!).

So I’ve settled into a new modus operandi: I drop by Midtown Comics to check out titles I’m interested in, and thereafter place my orders on Amazon.

To assuage my guilt over spending on such things, I’ve also made it a point to order books whenever I buy anything on Amazon. And I do mean books without pictures.

No, really!

THE GAME’S AFOOT
Owing in part to suggestions that came up when I ranted about needing something to read a while back, as well as to a book I randomly browsed while at a nearby Barnes and Noble, I’ve found myself in the middle of several mystery novels I can’t seem to put down.

Naturally, I’ll write about some of these when I get around to it. So stay tuned. Or not.

And thanks again, JAZ.

SPEAKING OF COMICS…
Two compilations I read recently reminded me of all that I hate about comics and why I love them, respectively.

I mentioned previously that I’d taken to following Geoff Johns reboot of Teen Titans. While the first two volumes were fairly entertaining, the most recent one, Life and Death is a mess. The art is a mixed bag (though I am pleased with the pages that Tony Daniel did pencil), but the storytelling is absolutely terrible. As a standalone, what the compilation needs is a foreword, or at the very least, intelligent editing. Comics like this are why I constantly give up on them when the spirit moves me.

On the other hand, in spite of myself I was absolutely riveted by the much publicized Identity Crisis. I’ll have more to say at length about this subsequently; but warts and all, it was a very good story and use of the medium. I don’t much care for such dark stories and themes, but taking it for what it is, I wish more comics were written with such ability as Brad Meltzer conceived of this tale.

GAMES, GAMES, GAMES
Recently rediscovered the first two games I bought for my Nintendo DS. I say “rediscovered” because these games were promptly set aside when I got hooked on playing Tetris DS online.

In the process, I’ve learned for that Magnetica is probably the ultimate distraction while waiting for the wash. But that’s just me.

Also, I finally got to beat New Super Mario Bros. I could’ve done so much earlier had I not been sidetracked wtih Tetris. I didn’t go through all the levels (thanks to the warp cannons: skipped levels 6 and 7 entirely, as well as parts of levels 3, 4, and 5), but I was able to collect all the stars for all the levels I did complete except for the last castle, where I fell short by one. That was just nuts.

There are two reasons to be skeptical of Franklin Foer’s How Soccer Explains the World. First, if the subtitle is to believed, the author’s underlying purpose for the book is quite ambitious: to offer a theory of globalization, however unlikely. Second, the book suffers from the obvious problem that it is written by an American: who else would have the audacity to call the sport soccer?

Whether the book succeeds or not as an off-the-beaten track reader on globalization, one thing is for certain: Franklin Foer is no Thomas Friedman, but not for lack of trying. In the ten chapters that Foer offers, he uses football as a vehicle for elucidating upon the many interesting consequences and contradictions behind such issues as migration, racism and tribal violence, corporate capitalism, and national identity in an interdependent world. Yet as the book progresses, it becomes less and less apparent that any overarching point regarding globalization is being made, despite the insights the book does impart. At best, it may be argued that Foer prefers subtlety; but this would be missing the point. Globalization is perhaps one of the most difficult topics to deconstruct and articulate as taken to its logical conclusion, any issue can be said to be related in to it in some way. If anything the books suffers from this problem, and in using football to make his point, the spotlight is stolen from the theory the book seeks to develop and shines on the sport more and more.

In that respect, whatever doubts that readers may have about the book being written by an American can be laid to rest. For a book about about “soccer”, the writer’s sensibilities are right on. Regardless of how well or badly Foer makes his case on globalization, what permeates every page of the book is the love that Foer has for the sport. Thus, if it weren’t already obvious, the book is less a treatise on globalization and more a sports book about football writ large. Across ten chapters readers are treated to a tour de force chronicling if not the History of the sport, then short “histories” of football across the hallowed stadia of Europe and Latin America. As a result, readers are treated to an erudite survey of the football landscape: its clubs, fans, and ultimately its place in the cultural consciousness of many societies – in short the very reasons it is the world’s most popular sport.

That the book succeeds in this regard is entirely to Foer’s credit: the guy can write! It’s hard not to be taken in with the passion Foer has for football as he weaves his enchanting discussion, so much so that when he shares his love for FC Barcelona, one can’t help but feel right there at Camp Nou cheering in the stands. In all, a lesser writer would not have been able to pull off what he has with such aplomb: a sports book accessible even to those otherwise unfamiliar with the sport, but at the same time interesting to the most devoted of fans. Readers may not come away from the book with a better understanding of how globalization works or doesn’t - at least not as much as one might expect - but they will come away with a better understanding of the richness that surrounds football. We are, all of us, the better for it.

Erratum: European versions of the book are actually entitled “How Football Explains the World”, presumably with all references to “soccer” within the book similarly changed. Clearly, this is an editorial decision, which I learned only after posting the review. Nonetheless, the fact remains that the book was written by an American.

What happens when you take two of the most popular fighting games, two of their most recognizable characters, and a person who knows how to put together a Flash movie with the sprites from those games?

Ladies and gentlemen: Mortal Kombat vs. Street Fighter (Part 2).

And yes, there is a part 1. However, the quality is not as good as it was the guy’s first foray into this sort of thing. Apparently, he’s gotten much, much better.

Thanks to my brother for finding this. (He obviously has just as much time on his hands as I do.)

Nintendo has finally set November 19, 2006 as the release date of its next generation console, the Wii. If things go the company’s way with this release, and if previews of the sleek console live up to expectations, Nintendo just might be able to reclaim its former glory in the console market, where it now ranks third behind Sony and Microsoft.

It has been a long time in coming, but the Wii - pronounced “We”, and formerly dubbed the “Nintendo Revolution while in development - promises to revolutionize the gaming-as-entertainment experience. Its controller is a wireless Bluetooth device that’s like a mouse and remote control on steroids. The console is backward compatible with all Gamecube games. It has built-in wireless capability that not only allows multiplayer gaming - for which reason there is more than one “I” in “Wii” - but will also allow connectivity with the Nintendo DS, access to a pay-per-download service of Nintendo games from both the NES and SNES, and the ability to surf the internet on tv.

Of course, the proof of the pudding is in the eating, and it’s not clear as of yet how the console will perform in the marketplace and whether developers will take to it in droves. After all, the Playstation 3’s release is looming in the future, the Xbox 360 is exceedingly popular and impressive, and it’s difficult to imagine at this point how user friendly the Wii’s controller will actually be. But right now on the business side, there are two things that Nintendo appears to be doing right. First, it is pricing the Wii well below both the Xbox 360 and and Playstation 3. At around $250, and given the functionality it promises (the Wii Channels look particularly interesting), it is most certainly a steal. Second, Nintendo is planning to bundle the console with at least one game: Wii sports. While bundling is usually disliked by game developers, it is a good idea from Nintendo’s standpoint in order to get players accustomed to using the innovative controller as quickly as possible.

It’s only a matter of time before anyone can form a definitive opinion on Nintendo’s new offering, and that’s about as good a reason as any to save the date. November 19, 2006. Wii will be waiting.

Apple revealed its new line of iPods at a press conference earlier today in San Francisco. The new and improved iPod Shuffle has immediately climbed to the top of my list of “must-have-toys”. At $79 for 1GB it’s quite affordable, and at 1.62″ x 0.41″ x 1.07″ - yes, that’s inches, making it practically a postage stamp - it’s bound to be the world’s smallest MP3 player. In all, it’s definitely much sexier than its predecessor.

It’s also still a flash drive, though I suppose you’d need to use the dock that accompanies it to use it in that manner.

At least the dock looks cool.

Look out for it in October.

I was hoping to find a copy of the tv commercials for the Lego Star Wars 2 video game to share on my blog when I came across this:

Revenge of the Brick is a five-minute CGI-animated movie cobbled together by Treehouse animation for Lego. For those of you who haven’t been keeping tabs, Lego has a line of Star Wars toys and video games that have been very successful of late (I have a copy of the Game Boy version of the first Lego Star Wars game - the prequels - and believe me it’s a winner; the Game Cube version is even better!). Apparently, the guys over at Lego decided to go all out with a movie that captures the spirit of the franchise, pokes a little fun at Star Wars, and plays on the fact that everything is made out of Lego, all at once.

Trust me, it’s cool.

The movie draws on the character base of the prequels, but isn’t set in continuity. Also, there’s a behind the scenes mini-documentary on the Treehouse site, narrated by Mark Hamill (that’s the original Luke Skywalker, for the non-geeks reading this), as well as a short clip of Darth Vader conducting an orchestra of Clone Troopers.

Trust me, it’s cool.

If you missed the links above, you can view the movie here.

Personally, that last scene of Chewie taking the picture in the cantina was really hilarious. But that’s just my inner geek talking.

SCHEDULE
Fordham University has an interesting way of ensuring that graduate school courses always end up with the same number of class sessions between them. I think of it as the “Twilight Zone” solution: anticipating public holidays, the graduate school calendar designates specific days when classes will follow the schedule of a day when classes were called off. For instance, since Monday was Labor Day, today’s classes would follow a Monday schedule instead to compensate for the missed class day. In short, everyone comes to class pretending Wednesday has become a Monday.

This is made possible because any graduate course meets only once a week, and only from Monday through Thursday. Thus it’s no big deal to substitute days in this manner, and for precisely this reason the academic calendar acquires greater significance than merely informing students of when the add/drop period ends or when finals week falls.

There is, however, an additional advantage to this system: it also means that students who otherwise would miss a “free day”, because they really don’t have class when a public holiday comes around, will still have it coming to them. I can attest to this: I have no classes on Mondays, and since today will follow a Monday schedule, I magically have no classes today.

Gotta love it.

VANITY
Snippit of conversation I heard between a guy and girl as I was emerging from the subway on my way to class:

Girl: Oh my God! It’s raining! Quick, give me your umbrella. I just had my hair done. Can’t get it wet.

Now before I could roll my eyes and finish muttering to myself “Vanity! Thy Name is Woman!” the guy just had to reply:

Guy: I need it. Don’t want my new shoes to get wet.

Right.

Well, in fairness, he did have white sneakers.

TEXTBOOK
Much to my chagrin, my econometric theory course has two recommended (read: required) texts to accompany classes.

This was a minor problem. Textbooks are expensive, and sometimes its inevitable that they’re less helpful than one might expect and end up relatively unused. Before the semester started I weighed my options and decided to invest in the more complicated text, thinking that it would be more helpful. But after the first few pages, with my head swimming, I began to realize that I’d really need that other text as well.

So here I was debating whether to buy an additional textbook or soldier on with what I had (and it should be added that apart from the text I bought, I also brought with me my girlfriend’s old econometrics textbook and have a volume of detailed notes from my previous applied econometrics course). In the end, I caved and decided to just buy it.

The reason is simple: earlier in the day I placed an order on Amazon for a bunch of graphic novels. Logic dictated that if I had no qualms about spending on comics, which are ultimately a diversion, then I shouldn’t be stingy over my studies, which is why I’m here in the first place.

Fine: so maybe it was more guilt than logic. I’m human, too.

A Long Way Down is a story about suicide. Or perhaps more appropriately, it is a story about attempted suicide, and the many (unlikely) things that can drive people into despair - and out of it.

The story follows four despondent souls who have individually come to the conclusion that their lives are not worth living. First, there is disgraced television host Martin, recently released from prison for a public scandal involving a tryst with a fifteen year-old girl. Then there is Maureen, a middle-aged single mother whose life has taken a back seat to caring for her mentally handicapped son. Third is Jess, a disturbed eighteen year-old dealing with the disappearence of her older sister and the trauma it has caused her family. Rounding out the quartet is JJ, a musician reduced to delivering pizzas after his long-time band breaks up and his girlfriend leaves him.

What sets the stage for the plot to unfold is not simply that these four decide to end it all. By coincidence, they decide to off themselves on the same night (New Year’s Eve) and at the same place, none other than London’s erstwhile most popular suicide destination (Topper’s House). When the four cross paths on the fated rooftop, the inevitable occurs: they decide to postpone their jump into oblivion and become the unlikeliest suicide support group to come along in a very long time.

Now, this is the first Nick Hornby book I’ve read, but coming into it I had an idea of what to expect. After all, two of the guy’s books have been adapted to film: High Fidelity, which, strangely, I haven’t seen; and About a Boy, which was brilliant. Besides, it’s rather difficult not to be intrigued by a book about suicide (who hasn’t thought about it, even remotely?), especially when it’s obvious that the story would be lighthearted, if not humorous. As such, from page one the reader is treated to a simple formula: a story where person(s) plan suicide, others get in the way, suicide is put off, and in the process everyone comes to realize that life is worth living, with humor injected along the way.

However, it turns out that the story Hornby unfolds before us is not as simplistic. A Long Way Down does progress in a fairly predictable fashion, but there is no singular catharsis, no grand epiphany, no defining feel-good moment at the end to tug at the heartstrings and drive home the point that life is ultimately worth living (though some will most likely disagree with me on this point). Instead, what insights and revelations the story has to offer about the gravity of personal problems and the value of living are less earth-shattering, sometimes painfully obvious, and spread out in “bite-size portions” often at the unlikeliest of moments. More, while the book itself is humorous in typical understated British fashion - and one is hard pressed not to laugh out loud here and there - it is not an out-and-out riot, which gives the book an air of severity appropriate to the subject matter with which it deals.

If one were to find fault with anything, it is perhaps that Hornby is guilty of creating a story that stumbles through most of the plot. For the most part, while the story has its worthwhile moments of insight here and there, one is mostly driven by the desire to find out what happens next and is left somewhat underwhelmed by most of what transpires throughout the book. But in other respects, that stumbling through is quite apropros to a story about people at the end of their rope coming to terms with their miserable lives. More importantly, it’s that very muddling through that allows Hornby to do what he does best: develop characters that are very, very real.

This is where the book shines. The tough sell that Hornby manages to pull of beautifully is in creating characters that readers can empathize with. In presenting the story from the point of view of each protagonist, the tale becomes very personal to the reader, who cannot help but feel for the characters in their moments of despair and laugh out loud at their sometimes ridiculous antics. This is particularly evident with Jess, whom any reader will want to throttle as much as the other characters do one moment but whose pathos elicits just as much sympathy the next. What this amounts to is not just a book that is for the most part entertaining, but one that is decidedly modern and believable. Reading the book, one cannot help but come to the conclusion that, well, it could happen.

That is to say that A Long Way Down is good, but perhaps not for everyone. Readers expecting to find a story that sings the praises of life and the beauty of living may not find it here, and most likely will be turned off by the fair amount of gratuitous swearing in the dialogue (however realistic). Instead, they will find a story that demonstrates how messed up life can be, how some problems are self-inflicted and occasionally beyond our control. Yet beneath all that, the story does drive home a subtle and uplifting message. Yes, life can be unfair and ugly and on a downward spiral; but no one needs to go through that alone, and things are never so bad that a person can’t be helped by opening up to others, even on that long way down.

My plan to hole up today (Labor Day in the US) and get some studying done was sabotaged by a sudden internet outage. Apparently, there was a network problem in my area, which took at least nine hours for my internet provider to address.

(Okay, fine: that’s a cop-out. I’ve been overwhelmed by laziness lately, so even if I was able to download the materials I needed to go over I probably wouldn’t have studied anyway. Or maybe I just underestimate myself.)

Meanwhile, today was a very good day for US Open action. The weather has cleared up quite nicely, so there’s been a scramble to be done with all the rain-delayed matches from the weekend, making for a lot of tennis on TV. That is, if you know where to find it. It turns out that throughout the day, the tournament would air on no less than three channels: CBS for the late morning to afternoon sessions, USA for the early evening match and CNBC (yes, the news channel) for the late evening match.

I suppose this allows each of the channels to share in the viewership the Open attracts without sacrificing too much of their airtime. But it’s inefficient: it still doesn’t allow viewers to catch games going on simultaneously with the one(s) being broadcast.

Can’t win them all, I guess.