BRAIN DRAIN

[Cross-posted at the BBFI Blog.]

At a time when corporate social responsibility, social entrepreneurship and private philanthropy have moved front and center in the public consciousness, David Bornstein has put together a valuable resource by way of his book, How to Change the World: Social Entrepreneurship and the Power of New Ideas.

The book is structured mostly as a set of “case studies” in social entrepreneurship. It details the experiences of remarkable individuals around the world that have made a difference in their communities or fields of concern. Their achievements have also allowed them to be elected as Ashoka Fellows — Ashoka being the premiere global association for social entrepreneurs. As such, the book not only chronicles cases of ingenuity and perseverance in the realm of social development but also paints a vivid picture of the remarkable work that institutions such as Ashoka and the individuals associated with it do worldwide.

There is no disputing that Bornstein has made yet another important contribution to the literature on social entrepreneurship (the first being his earlier book on the Grameen bank). Indeed, it sometimes seems that the book seeks to do too much. Early on, it becomes clear that How to Change the World is at once a compendium of success stories on social entrepreneurship, a manuscript about the principles and workings of Ashoka, and a collection of personal insights on social entrepreneurship all rolled into one. For the individual sections concerned, the book manages to be each; yet taken as a whole, the discerning reader will find that Bornstein’s work is at best only two of these three things, depending on what she expected of the book coming into it. To be sure, this is not for lack of journalistic ability on the author’s part, but rather demonstrates an abundance of enthusiasm for the subject he is writing about.

Some time ago, I picked up a used copy of Kirby Canvas Curse, a relative oldie but goodie for the Nintendo DS. Built around the premise of guiding Kirby (who’s been transformed into a ball) through several stages by drawing paths for him to follow on the touch screen, it’s good clean fun that’s as simple as it can get.

Although it isn’t a groundbreaking revolution in gaming and lacks the gloss of other titles — every time I play, I half-expect Kirby to rocket through each stage much like Sonic the Hedgehog — what will prevent even serious gamers from writing this one off are Canvas Curse’s level design and unlockables. With regard to the former, some of the stages can be positively devious (in a fun sort of way), requiring multiple playthroughs just to find everything that they have to offer. As for the latter, the game has enough unlockables to keep obsessive completists at it for hours. While the resulting rewards are admittedly a tad underwhelming, they nevertheless give this otherwise short game a little more mileage: I finished it the first time a shade under six and a half hours and later on completed it after logging in over twenty.

Anyone who can find a copy (did I mention I got mine used?) would do well to add Kirby Canvas Curse to their library.

Here’s the setup: While walking around the mall happily minding my own business, a lady with her kids in tow managed to cut in front of me. I wasn’t really paying any attention to them until I heard the “mom” say, “Ok! Let’s get this guy some clothes.”

For some reason, something about the way she said it puzzled me so I ended up looking right at them. At first glance, nothing struck me as out of the ordinary — a mother at the mall with her kids is hardly noteworthy — and I began to think “What in the world was she talking about?”

And only then did I finally notice what was wrong:

I can’t even begin to imagine what that kid did to his clothes!

Following a bout of temporary insanity on my part, my girlfriend has officially become my ex-girlfriend.

Because she is now my fiancée.

And I am the happiest man on earth.

Amazing how these things work out, isn’t it?

If you collected Marvel comics back in the late nineties, you may recall a series of lighthearted comic strips appearing in each installment of Bullpen Bulletins. These “Bullpen Bits” featured pint-sized (kiddified) versions of Marvel’s pantheon of superheroes in various gags or humorous situations. Akin to Spider-Ham before them, these Mini Marvels were a lot of fun, especially for the die-hard Marvel Zombie.

Amazingly, it turns out that the Mini Marvel strips are already accessible online! Chris Giarrusso, the series writer and artist, has all sixty-two strips, the full “Animated Hawkeye Trilogy”, and the complete Giant-Size Mini Marvels comic book available on his website, ChrisGComics.com. With plenty of other great stuff there as well, the site is well worth a look-see and proves once again that sometimes taking a humorous dig at characters we all know and love can be just as entertaining as the real thing.

I.

A little after New Year’s I had the misfortune of dropping my celphone.

I’m usually more careful when it comes to these things, and when it happened I already knew it was going to be bad. Indeed, despite the fact that the unit was otherwise intact — it was, previously, a very serviceable Nokia 7610 — it quite stubbornly refused to turn on. There were no new scratches on the casing nor cracks on the screen, yet all that remained was a lifeless husk.

These things happen, of course, so while waiting to have the damage assessed I began mulling over the prospect of buying a new one. Quite a few have caught my eye and it’s really about time I got a better model (I’ve even toyed with the idea of jailbreaking an iPhone), so I thought that if there were an upside to this unfortunate occurence this would be it. In the end, however, I decided to just roll with the punches and put off buying another one, opting instead to swap out the Cingular sim card in my US “utility phone” — a weathered clamshell Nokia 6101 — with my Manila-based Globe sim, in the hope of maybe holding out for a celphone I would really want.

Recently, however, I became the victim of yet another spate of celphone-related misfortune: as I was navigating through some furniture, a table edge caught my pocket and damaged the outer screen of the utility unit. As with the first instance, I knew the phone was irrevocably damaged as I felt more than heard the scrunch of the screen. In truth, beyond the all-too-visible crack and an area of damaged pixels the phone still works just as well (or badly) as it did previously; yet seeing the damage each time I look at the phone reminds me of how uncharacteristically careless I’ve been in the span of a month, and in that regard I’ve been inconsolable.

So I find myself in an unusual situation: armed with one-and-a-half damaged phones. Yet I still can’t find it in myself to invest in a new one, even a bargain unit, despite the fact I definitely need one now more than when I broke the first one. With the sheer bad luck I’ve been having with celphones lately, who’s to say what’ll happen if I do decide to take the plunge?

II.

Alas, celphone misfortune seems to run in the family: my brother, who’s had his phone longer than I can remember, has either misplaced his phone or was the victim of a pickpocket.

Misery truly loves company.

III.

A few months ago, I had to replace my Powerbook’s AC Adapter becaue some cable fraying ultimately resulted in sparks flying each time I’d plug it in. In theory, this could have been remedied by simply using some electrical tape to secure the damaged area, which was really very small. Yet I didn’t want to risk it, so I ended up making my first purchase at the New York Apple Store on Fifth Avenue.

Fast forward to this past weekend. For no apparent reason, the AC Adapter for my brother’s laptop, a.k.a. our dad’s older Powerbook, decided to call it quits on him, too. Since he had a bunch of papers due for his class, we discussed the matter and decided that he should just bring my adapter with him until I could drop by the local Power Mac Center to get a replacement. I did so the very next day and was absolutely scandalized by the price I had to pay.

In New York, the adapter cost $79, plus tax.

In Manila, the same adapter cost Php6,500. Depending on the exchange rate one uses, that’s equivalent to anywhere between $130 to $180.

It boggles the mind how anyone can get away with such a markup. Given that these things are manufactured in China, which is just a stone’s throw away from the Philippines, shouldn’t they actually be cheaper here than in the West? I am fairly certain that Philippine commercial tariffs have something to do with this, and that there’s a sad commentary just waiting to be written in this regard. At the same time, the scholar in me can’t help but point out that there’s a valuable lesson to be learned here about market segmentation and price discrimination. I just wish the lesson didn’t have to cost so much.

Because I apparently live in an alternate dimension far removed from mortal men:

Channel Surfing

When I woke up this morning, I turned on the TV and tuned in to CNN. There, the running ticker informed the world that Fabio Capello led England to victory in their football friendly against Switzerland. “That’s nice,” I thought, then proceeded to channel surf. A few clicks of the remote later, I found a repeat telecast of the same game already in progress on Star Sports.

For a minute or two I toyed with the idea of watching the game through to its conclusion, but decided to continue channel surfing instead since I already knew the outcome. However, nothing in particular really caught my fancy for the better part of the hour, and I ended up passing through Star Sports several times, eyeing snippets of the game in the process.

Later, it hit me: those “snippets” from the game I managed to see happened to be each of the three goals that would make up the final score.

What are the chances of that happening?

Ambient Music

While on an errand at the mall, I was in need of a midday pick-me-up and got myself a cup of joe. The barista who took my order was friendly and chatted me up, though we were both rendered speechless when the music over the store’s sound system started playing a song that was…untimely:

“Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…”

As the song played out, it was clear that the three-man crew present were just as dumbfounded as I was about this. They made a few jokes to make light of the situation, making it all too clear that they thought this was just a fluke.

Then the next song started to play:

“Have yourself…a Merry Little Christmas…”

By this time there was stifled laughter all around, and as the barista went on a mad scramble to fiddle with their CD changer the look on everyone’s faces was priceless.

At the Video Game Store

I was browsing the shelves at a video game store in the area when some guy made a beeline for the Wii games. He picked up a copy of Resident Evil: Umbrella Chronicles then headed straight towards the register. Talking to a clerk, he pointed at something on the cover and inquired whether the store had any in stock.

He was asking about the Wii Zapper.

Excited to make a sale, the clerk enthusiastically said they had just the thing and proceeded to get one for the customer. Knowing that the Zapper isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be (it’s an unnecessary peripheral, in my opinion) and curious as to why this guy would want one for the game, I couldn’t help but politely remark in his direction, “You know, you don’t really need it.”

In my experience, comments like this usually open the floodgates for fairly interesting conversation. For novices who don’t know any better, it usually invites the right sort of questions to make an informed decision about the purchase. In those instances where the person is in fact a tried and true gamer, it sets the stage for impassioned discussion about why they’re so interested in what they intend to buy.

But this guy was different: He gave me the evil eye, looked in my direction with an affronted look, and angrily replied “My son is three years old. It’s hard for him to play. This will make it easier.”

As I listened to this, two things were going through my head.

First: His son is three years old, and he’s buying Resident Evil?!

Second: Why was he so…confrontational?

Not wanting to come across as some know-it-all, I just nodded my understanding (or really, my lack thereof) and left it at that. When the clerk showed up with the Zapper in question, he proceeded to return the copy of Resident Evil, which fortunately he wasn’t buying for his child, and hied off to the register to make his purchase.

Before handing over his credit card, he began reading through the details on the box and saw there was a bundled game. Concerned, he asked the clerk whether the Zapper only worked with that game. Ever helpful, the clerk replied that the Zapper could actually be used with a host of games, “like Resident Evil, Medal of Honor, and Super Mario Galaxy.”

Super Mario Galaxy? Played with a tommy gun? Hearing this made my poor gamer’s heart bleed just a little bit. Obviously, the clerk didn’t have a clue, nor did this well-meaning father. I just hope he understood that all he really bought was an overpriced piece of plastic that comes with half a game.

Still at the Video Game Store

Something I noticed while browsing through the shelves for Nintendo DS games: at this store, Diner Dash, the Flash version of which is actually free to play online, was more expensive than Pheonix Wright: Ace Attorney — Trials and Tribulations, one of the best games on the platform.

That’s just not right.

In My Room

Today I realized that too many things in my room have a remote control.

I’d walked in and absentmindedly picked up a white remote to put on the airconditioner. After clicking on it several times to no effect, I was beginning to get annoyed that it wasn’t working.

Until I realized I was trying to put on the airconditioner with a Wiimote.

The manual that accompanies Zack & Wiki: Quest for Barbaros’ Treasure contains the following special message from Capcom:

Thank you for selecting Zack & Wiki^TM: Quest for Barbaros’ Treasure for your Nintendo Wii^TM computer entertainment system. Capcom&reg is proud to bring you this new addition to your video game library.

And well they should be, because it is positively one of the best games available for the Wii. Or any platform for that matter.

Zack & Wiki hearkens to the glory days of the point and click puzzle adventure. Players take on the role of Zack, pirate wannabe and newly inducted member of the “notorious” sea rabbits. On his journey he is assisted by Wiki, a monkey who, strangely enough, magically transforms into a bell. Their adventure begins when they meet the legendary pirate Barbaros — or what’s left of him. They find the pirate cursed, his body turned to gold and dispersed around the world. He asks for their help to put him back together; they agree, thus beginning Zack’s quest to establish himself as one of the world’s greatest pirates.

This treasure hunt is implemented in superb fashion. The control scheme is simple, and entails making use of the Wiimote much like a mouse in order to direct Zack’s actions (in point and click fashion). As each stage is setup as a mind-bending puzzler, this requires that players figure out the correct sequence of actions to perform in order to successfully avoid traps and acquire the treasure that lies ahead. But there’s more: shaking the Wiimote like a bell activate’s Wiki’s ability, which has the effect of turning living objects into useful tools — umbrellas, saws, and at least one lighter — for beating the stage. To make use of these entails moving the Wiimote so as to mimic how such objects are used in real life.

The game is a gem on nearly all fronts. Graphically, the cel-shaded anime style used in Zack & Wiki is pure eye candy. Also, despite its English localization the game manages to retain much of its Japanese humor (which is a good thing). Yet a few blemishes remain. For one thing, the game’s motion controls tend to be occasionally dodgy. Further, as a puzzler, there is an unavoidable amount of repetitive trial and error involved to getting anything done. The most glaring shortcoming, however, has must be in the odd time-sensitive puzzle, especially those that require clicking on just the right thing almost by reflex, which would not be so bad had the clues for what to do been clearer. Inasmuch as these tend to make the game slightly more frustrating than it should be, they do not detract from the overall experience of an otherwise solid game.

Commercially, it would appear that Zack & Wiki never quite took the marketplace by storm. In fact, I’m pretty sure that there are a host of Wii gamers out there that don’t even know the title exists. More’s the pity. The long and the short of it is that Capcom have a real winner on their hands that may just be the Wii’s best kept secret.

Suite Francaise is for all intents and purposes the fictional equivalent of The Diary of Anne Frank.

Meant to be part of a five-volume opus by author Irene Nemirovsky, this posthumously published book depicts life in France during the Second World War as seen through the eyes of its various citizens. The first half of the novel (”Storm in June”) recounts the fall of the country to German hands, during which time individuals of high and low birth alike endured the same adversities in the ensuing confusion. The second half (”Dolce”) focuses on the Nazi occupation, albeit framed in the experience of the community within a small country town taken over by German soldiers.

The novel was never truly finished — though for all intents and purposes the published manuscript tells a reasonably complete set of stories — and in that regard suffers in places where it is clear that the author intended that certain characters be developed further in ensuing volumes. Nevertheless, Suite Francaise remains a standout period piece. If for no other reason, what makes it remarkable is the author’s use of contrast. Whether in terms of how well born and common folk struggled to adapt to trying circumstances (each in their own way) or in the more subtle imagery that manages to evoke a sense of despair one moment then hope, optimism and humanity the next, the result is a novel that is as delicate as it is powerful.