Sunday, November 30, 2008

A few words before Hitchcock.

It is Sunday evening, and I am back in Berkeley with my wife/kid/dog after our trip down to LA, which was quite marvey, thankyouverymuch. Always great to see my family down there, and of course Thanksgiving is in itself such an awesome holiday, what with the yummylicious, gigantic heaps of food we gorge ourselves on. It's one of the only days of the year in which, even after you're already completely full, you still find yourself saying, "well I guess I *could* have a little more!" And then after that is dessert. Hooray for gluttony!

So now as we prepare for grim reality again tomorrow, we are going to ring out the long weekend with a to-be-determined Hitchcock movie from the boxed set we borrowed from Dana and Brian. Vertigo, maybe? The Man Who Knew Too Much? Rear Window? Such choices. And that's only the tip of the iceberg. All we know is: neither Psycho or The Birds. Just for now. Some other time.

My two faves, actually, are North by Northwest (the movie that turned me on to movies), and Vertigo. I'd likely put both in my top 10 of all time, from any director, and I certainly would have a hard time making a sophie's choice between the two. North by Northwest is in my mind the great American suspense film. It's a virtually perfect movie, in every respect, with a plot that jumpstarts itself in the first 2 minutes, with no fluff, and never lets go until the end. Cary Grant may only ever play Cary Grant in his movies, but in this one he's a god--funny, righteous, manly, suave, cunning, brave--a real movie star. (Bringing Up Baby is another one.) And James Mason provides one of the great bad guy roles of all time. There are only certain movies I can watch over and over and over and never get tired of them. City Lights is one. The Wages of Fear is another. The Big Lebowski--of course. But I don't know if I've seen any movie more than I've seen North by Northwest, and if you haven't seen it yet, just put it in yer queue right now and thank me later.

Best suspense movie ever made? Quite possibly.

Vertigo is my other big Hitchcock love (and I've seen pretty much everything by him multiple times except for a couple of the super early old British ones), but for totally different reasons than North by Northwest. In Vertigo, Hitchcock made a movie with a plot that is somewhat ludicrous when put down on paper, but as imagined by him on screen is a work of haunting, unforgettable poetry. The feeling of vertigo is in fact one you experience yourself as you watch James Stewart claw his way from one heartbreak to another, over and over, in this story of obsessive love, wrapped up in a "mystery" story. I love Jimmy Stewart (I also have--I will admit this in public--an unhealthy love for It's a Wonderful Life ) and this is without a doubt my favorite of his roles, just because of the aching vulnerability and weakness he is willing to show as he follows his obsession. There's really not much more to say about this one without getting into plot details, which just should not be done with this movie. But anyone who thinks Hitchcock "just" made suspense movies, and hasn't seen Vertigo yet, doesn't really know what they're talking about.

But this one might be his masterpiece.

Err, so anyway, those are the two Hitchcock movies we aren't watching tonight. Which really wasn't what I came here to blog about. I was actually going to write a music blog. But see, get me started on Hitchcock and then I just start blabbering away. This is one of the greatest things about being a parent, though: Once kids get old enough--and assuming you get lucky enough to catch them in a mood where they don't feel like rolling their eyes and going back to FaceBook--you can foist all your favorites onto them, as part of the ongoing cultural brainwashing that you start with them from birth. It doesn't always work (if she ever ends up appreciating Bob Dylan, it's gonna have to be later in life, discovered on her own---which is maybe as it should be), but when it does work ("OMG dad I love Talking Heads!"), well, you kinda feel like maybe your time on Earth was worth something indeed. Or at least it helps justify all the time and money you spent over the years obsessing about this junk.

Anyhoo: dinner and movie time has hit! Here's hoping your long weekend was a relaxing and restorative as mine was.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Happy Thanksgiving

It's Thanksgiving today, and at least for the foreseeable future, this holiday is going to be a bittersweet one for me. One year ago today, my cat PJ died. We had had PJ--or maybe I should say he had us--for 15 amazing years. Not everyone gets the pet thing, and that's okay, but those who do know more than can ever be explained to those who don't how much a pet can truly become part of a family. The sight of them, the smell, the touch, the funny and stupid and annoying and adorable things they do, become part of the fabric of your life, and when it is taken away from you, as it inevitably must, it creates an ache and a sadness like no other.

Every year on Thanksgiving, my wife and daughter and I drive down to LA to be with my family. We're doing it again today, soon. But I woke up remembering what had happened at this very time exactly one year ago today. After it happened, and before we got in the car, I sat down in this same chair and blogged about it on my old blog, as a way to process my feelings, somehow. A lot of people liked that blog and told me it helped them deal with the grief over the loss of their own pet. So on this Thanksgiving morning, I'm reposting that blog here, for me, for PJ, and for anyone else who feels the need or desire to give thanks to someone no longer with them. Happy Thanksgiving, PJ. And Happy Thanksgiving to all of you, too. Thanks for being part of my life and for coming here and reading my stuff.

PJ The Cat. In memoriam. 1992-2007
Posted at Thu, 22 Nov 2007 12:46:16 PST


It seems like a particularly cruel and trying twist of fate to have a family's beloved cat pass away on Thanksgiving Day, of all days. And yet, if any of us have learned anything, it's that life never does make a whole lot of sense, never pauses to ask us first if this is a good day for whatever it has to throw at us.


And so it is that on Thanksgiving Day 2007, my wife and daughter and I found ourselves sitting in a cold and sterile room at a pet emergency hospital at 8 a.m., crowded around the very, very sick form of our cat PJ, as the vet gave him one last shot to let him sleep and rest forever, out of the pain that a horrendous bacterial infection had put him in for over a week, rendering him unable to eat or even move. We fought it, of course, that decision, that leap of sad understanding that many, many pet owners inevitably find themselves forced to make--the one that tells you that you have to let go for the animal's sake, that keeping him or her alive is only a salve for you. That what your pet needs now is rest. For 24 hours we fought this decision, willing him as strong as we could to rally, to fight it off, to get better. But at the hospital this morning it was clear. You could see it in his eyes, in his low moans, in his withered body. You could see him asking to be let go.


And so now after 15 long, wonderful, happy, loving years, PJ is gone on, and we are packing our things here and driving down to Los Angeles to be with our extended family on this holiday--a bittersweet of one as I ever remember having.

Part of me doesn't want to go at all. Part of me wants to tell my family: "Never mind. See you next year." Because...well, why? Why go? Why celebrate? What is there to be thankful for on this cold and cruel Thanksgiving Day?


And the answer of course is that there is so much to be thankful for. Even on a day like this. There of course is the fact that we have each other. And the fact that we have somewhere to drive to, that will understand our pain and offer us the kind of comfort that only family can provide. That in itself is more than anyone could hope to have.

But here in this space, before I take off, I also want to acknowledge all the things I'm thankful for that that big, tough, annoying, scratchy, loud, awesome cat brought into my life.


I'm thankful for the endless hours of companionship.

I'm thankful for all that purring and head butting and body curling that let me know we had a mutual deal going on here.

I'm thankful for the countless laughs as we found you in one ridiculous predicament after another.


I'm thankful for all those poor little mice and birds that you brought to us in sacrifice over the years, even if we yelled at you at the time.

I'm thankful for all that interrupted sleep due to your sudden need to go outside at 4 a.m even though you'd ask to be let back in 2 minutes later.

I'm thankful for never making it 10 minutes through any TV show ever without you needing to either go in or out, depending on which side of the door you were on.

I'm thankful for the countless new places you showed me that, despite my limited human thinking, did in fact turn out to be cool sleeping spots.



I'm thankful for all the scratches on my hands and arms and toes that reminded me who actually was in charge of our relationship.

I'm thankful for you always giving me a reason to want to come home, no matter my mood, no matter the circumstance.

And, most of all, PJ, I'm thankful for that unconditional (well, as unconditional as it ever gets for a cat) love, that solid and steady companionship, that low purr that always made everything alright. And the gentle, steady reminder that sometimes--most of the time, in fact-- the best damn thing in the world to do was absolutely nothing. To sit, be still, breathe, and appreciate the awesome wonder of simply being together, sharing the same space.


Thank you, PJ. I love you, man. Have a happy Thanksgiving up there in cat heaven, and I'll do my best to have one down here, basking in my memories of our 15 years of love and harmony and happiness together.

Happy Thanksgiving, PJ.


Wednesday, November 26, 2008

"Morons and communists."

That was the answer I gave my daughter just now when she asked me, while searching for a brownie recipe for Thanksgiving, "Who doesn't like peanut butter?" So, if you are reading this now, and you do not like peanut butter, then I ask you to ask yourself: WHICH ARE YOU?

In other news, which I shall number because it's easier than writing coherent and fluid paragraphs:

1) I had a good sound sleep, thankfully, and did not have a repeat of yesterday's tragic leap onto the floor.

2) It is raining here in Berkeley, which means my little dog is stir crazy and therefore driving ME crazy, because apparently I am the Entertainment Committee for her, which sucks when I'm trying to play WoW.

3) I've been playing WoW. Just did the Nexus quests, which were super fun (especially the tentacle lady who spins you around), but I'm kind of sorry I didn't (once again) read the quest text, so I have no idea what it was all about. Basically, I killed stuff and then looted stuff. Which is great. Still. I'm a writer---I should read the words! Now I just feel guilty. Pretty instance, though!

4) Today's cheap Amazon mp3 deal ($2.99) is for Elton John's Madman Across the Water, which is one of his best. One of the great things about getting older is that you realize that music that seemed embarrassing or lame or NOT RAWK ENUF at the time, is, in retrospect, really pretty damn good. Sure Elton is derivative and manipulative and obvious and lightweight--but the man could write some nice melodies, too. And the bonus of this particular record is that it has "Tiny Dancer," which is the song that is featured in the single best scene in the movie Almost Famous. Anyway, I bought it this a.m., and I have no regrets.

5) I also have no regrets about not watching Heroes this week. Yep--I'm officially done. At least until I hear from credible sources (not you fanboy dorkuses) that it has gotten seriously better again. Because this series just blows now. And I say this as a former believer. But at this point, I don't know what any of the characters are doing any more, or why, or who's friends with who, or why, or who is coming back from the future or going to the past, or why, and frankly I don't even think I want to hear why, because it would just give me a headache and reaffirm for me that I just do not give a shit. They ruined this show. It needs a "Batman Begins" done on it now---a complete reboot. Or a cancellation. But I am done.

6) If I ever finally write that novel I've been meaning to write, one of the characters is going to be in a band, and the band's name is going to be Seizure Salad. I came up with that name while in Target with my kid, and the garishness of the store inspired those two words to fall from my mouth. I mention this here in public now knowing that someone else may steal it for their own book, but you folks are witnesses that I thought it up first.

7) I am thinking a lot again about the ridiculous use of "quotes" that eliminate the phrase they are used with of any actual meaning. For example, many years ago, I saw a sign on a wall at a restaurant that said they sell: "Homemade" apple pie. The quotes mean, one assumes, that it's not actually homemade at all. Otherwise they wouldn't need the quotes. So the point of the sign is....what exactly? To focus our attention on the exact opposite of what you're trying to do? Bravo! The same goes for this one: Made with "real" chocolate. Err, okay. So in fact it's not real at all then. So it's fake. So in fact what it should really say is: Made with fake chocolate. All I'm saying is that this shit bothers me. I'm not saying we have to do anything about it, like take to the streets with torches and pitchforks or anything. I'm just saying to be vigilant, people! Watch for this abuse, and stamp it out wherever you see it. I have deputized you all. Use your power. Use it wisely. The English language---nay, the very fabric of our society!--depends on it.


[EDIT: "Thanks" to message poster "Andy" for alerting me to this photo. :)]

Have a "happy" rest of your day!


Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Rude awakening.

Good grief. Well this is a new one. I am sitting here at my keyboard at home, coffee in hand, and nursing a sore leg and sore lip. Why? Thanks for asking! I shall tell you! Because just about 10 minutes ago, while still sound asleep, I was dreaming that some lowlife was stealing my motorcycle. It was parked a few feet away on the college campus I was at, where I was looking through the new math book I had just bought. When I looked up from the book and saw the punk trying to make off with the bike, I yelled and leaped at him with all my force. Unfortunately, I apparently did that in real life too. Yes, while sound asleep at 7:15 a.m., I suddenly yelled "NOOOOO!" out loud and propelled myself off the bed, banging into the nightstand and landing on the floor. Needless to say, I was now awake, sore, bewildered, feeling stupid, and with a little dog licking my face and wagging her tail because apparently this was some new game I was making up that seemed like a heck of a lot of fun.

So, um, yeah. Good morning everyone.

Monday, November 24, 2008

The needle and the damage done.

Shockingly, it has been a week since my last update here. Much has happened in that week. Most of the work on this site has been transferred to an outsourcing company in India, so I figured it was in good hands. But now that I'm here I see they haven't blogged for me yet, which was not part of the original agreement. So an international conference call has been scheduled for later, with my attorneys present, in which head will roll, my friends. Heads will roll.

In the meantime, I guess I'll have to update the blog MYSELF, which, really, at this point in my career, is asking a lot of me. Shouldn't I just be able to bask in my success on the executive board of Greenspeak, raking in the profits, padding out my golden parachute, laughing contentedly on the golf course with my other grey-haired white male friends, secretly worrying what the Obama presidency is going to do to my portfolio? Ah well.

On the plus side, or maybe the down side, I am totally addicted to WoW again. It didn't take long. In fact all it took was a reinstall on my still-crappy PC, as well as a download of Wrath of the Lich King, to sucker me back in, hardcore. Goddamn it! There I was, minding my own business, happily playing all sorts of other games---Fallout 3, Warhammer, Dead Space, World of Goo, Ticket to Ride, Final Fantasy IV, and many others---and now the evil folks at Blizzard have reeled me back in to the point where I've got those junkie-like jitters just being away from the game right now. I have achievements to catch up on! I have new zones to explore! My new deathknight, Deathbert, has bad things to do! When you factor in not only other games, but also other aspects of life--my job, my family, exercise, books, TV, longstanding home improvement projects dating back 10 years or so, personal hygiene, and a host of other petty distractions--it's clear that WoW just can't fit in with all of that. So that's why I'm giving all of that up to devote myself 24/7 to WoW. Yay! I think that is the only logical and mature decision to have been made here.

And speaking of achievements in WoW: Ugh. Really? I've been gone for months, so I knew they were there but hadn't experienced them yet. And here's the thing: I'm not an OCD kind of guy. I'm not. But there's something about seeing these obviously useless Achievements sitting there, waiting to be achieved, that activates the hamster-brain in me even as I know what I'm doing is stupid and pointless. To wit, last night I spent a good two hours roaming around the Eastern Kingdom, all over those lowbie zones, simply to get the Achievement for exploring that continent. I was surprised to see I didn't have it automatically, given how much time I spent there 4 years ago, but upon looking at the requirements, saw that I was missing a landmark or two in every single zone. But rather than just ignore that and get on with my life--or at least explore Northrend with my Coke Zero and Cheez-Its--I spent the evening riding around filling in all those zones, as moronic a way to spend my time as I can imagine. And yet, I liked it.

One achievement I got this weekend, too, freaked me out, almost to the point of scaring me straight off the game. It was the achievement for completing 1000 quests. ONE THOUSAND. (And what's scary, too, is thinking of all those I haven't done---boy, those developers have written a LOT of quests for this game) . 1000 times I have accepted the drudge work and delivery jobs and assassination requests and diplomatic missions and more for every random person I've met in the game. And yet, I get resentful every time my wife asks me to take out the trash. Something is not right here. And while I'd love to ponder it more, I really do have to get back to the game now. Oh wait, no---I'm at work! Shit!


Monday, November 17, 2008

On the other hand...

without the 1970s, we wouldn't have Starsky and Hutch, which then means we wouldn't have this fantastic routine by Bill Bailey. (And thanks to my pal Eric in Spain for introducing me to Mr. Bailey):

The unfortunate 1970s.

First of all, my short review of "Quantum of Solace": Daniel Craig rules. Because the thing is is that this is not a very good movie at all. It fails in almost every category: The plot is an indecipherable mess, the action scenes are impossible to follow, the new "Bond girl" is a dud, and the new villain was played by an actor who was far more interesting in another movie in which he played a guy who was completely paralyzed and could only communicate by blinking one eye.

But, in spite of all this, I *still* enjoyed the movie and would recommend it simply because Daniel Craig is so freaking great to watch. He's this generation's Steve McQueen. He radiates cool.

Hopefully I'll post more thoughts later, because I do want to rant about the "shaky cam" action scenes. But I simply must get back to work now. Before I do so, however, I want to share this one link passed to me by my good friend Dana--who at this very moment may in fact be a new mom! (Sending good vibes about that.) Even in her about-to-deliver state, she still managed this weekend to pass this along to me: Definitive proof that the 1970s were truly the worst decade ever for fashion. Or maybe just for Swedish fashion. For those too lazy to click teh links, here's an exclusive advanced sneak preview:


EDIT: I added one more just because I love the guy on the lower right:

Have a nice day!

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Quantum of Eh?

Yo. Jeff Green here. How you doin? It is 6 pm PST, and we are T-minus 1 hour before leaving to go see the new James Bond movie. WOOT. Daniel Craig: Best Bond since Sean Connery. Notice I didn't phrase that as a question, so this is not actually up for discussion. Craig is one of those manly men that men are allowed to idolize--kinda like Clive Owen now, too. So the wife and kid and two of the kids' friends and I are all heading over to Emeryville to brave the Saturday night crowds, which means I will be battling my usual impulse to rip the skulls off of the morons talking and not turning off their cell phones and explaining the movie to all of this. "Wow, that was awesome, did you see that? He totally shot that guy in the head." Why, yes, yes I did see it! Because I'm sitting right behind you at the same theater! I didn't, however, HEAR it, because you were too busy flapping your popcorn-breath gums in my ears while it was happening, you selfish, inconsiderate dillweed! Wow, I'm mad already and I haven't even gone yet. See, this is my problem. I'm expecting something to piss me off, so this means that the slightest little thing is going to do it, no matter how innocuous it might be. Like, what if some sweet little 80-year-old woman just gives a little sort-of half-cough in my ear, and I turn around and, because I'm a little unhinged about this sort of thing, yell "SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT!" only to see too late who I'm yelling at? That wouldn't be good. So what I need to do now is get into a more Zen state about it all. I need to get to a place of acceptance, to realize that not everything is in my control, and to let what happens happen. I need accept the fact that:

1) It is the first Saturday night the movie is playing.
2) It is playing in a crowded mall, which means a higher-percentage of dimbulb cretins and lowlifes in attendance.
3) It is an action movie.

All of which means that the chances of this being a quiet, respectful movie crowd are mathematically determined to be less than zero. So why fight it? Why be the one stick-in-the-mud in a crappy mood just because everyone else is yelling and talking and chewing with their mouth open and having a great time? Shouldn't I just join in with the crowd? Maybe I should be one of those guys loudly heckling the characters on screen. I could start yelling "TAKE IT OFF BITCH!" the first time the new Bond girl shows up. I'd get big laughs and be the hero of the theater, carried out on the shoulders of all my new friends, who would take me to TGIFridays afterwards for a nice lukewarm Coors Light and some potato skins.

Anyway. Yeah. That's my night tonight. I hope yours is as fun as mine is going to be. Hopefully I won't get an ulcer or cardiac or get my ass kicked having all this fun.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008


When did this term make it into the mainstream vocabulary? I thought it still just belonged to us gamers. I thought wrong, though, as I recently discovered that my daughter and her friends now use the term all the time. In any event, after sitting through a bunch of meetings, and faced with the prospect of writing a really long email I'm not much in the mood to do, I felt the need for some comic relief. And where better to find it than in the foibles and traumas of others?

First, there's this guy:

Then, there's this guy--an oldie but always my favorite. A nice moral in this one for The Kids of Today. See if you can think of it all on your own!

See, so, instead of feeling sorry for myself for the work I have to do, plus the fact that my PC is nearly dead and Lich King comes out tomorrow and I won't be able to play, I can laugh at these morons, which makes me feel a lot better.

Thanks, morons!

(and thanks to for the Good Times)

Friday, November 7, 2008

Fun with animals.

Part of the awesomeness of my new job---along with the phenomenal burping of Veronica, one of the producers here--is that I am currently getting to spend a lot of my time doing research on animals. Yes, while my co-workers are slaving away squashing bugs, I have the fortunate luxury of looking ahead to future games in the SimAnimals line, helping to figure out what would be cool, and possible, to include.

Because I am the product of the shitty American public school system, however, and also because I didn't pay much attention anyway (but still managed to get almost straight As) I don't actually know a whole lot about animals now. Except that I like them. So now I'm giving myself a crash course in all sorts of things--which is also giving me a side course in geography (hey--Africa is a continent!)--through extensive reading, Wiki-ing, and watching of channels like Animal Planet, when they're not doing one of their 35 shows on dogs.

For one small example of animal coolness, check out this warthog, who you think may be in for trouble--but keep watching. This dude is an inspiration to all of us, I think:

A couple other random animal facts to infotain you with on this lovely Friday afternoon:

* The word "gorilla" derives from the Greek "gorillae," which translates to "tribe of hairy women." (Probably coined after the discoverer visited Berkeley.)

* Hippos can run up to 30 MPH, which is faster than most Prius owners go on the freeway. They can also walk and run along the bottom of rivers!

*Giraffes sleep an average of only 1.9 hours a day, which means they could get through Fallout 3 AND the Malazan novels a lot faster than I ever will.

Okay. That's all I got for you right now. Please carry on. I shall be back again with more Fun Facts to Liven Up Your Lives.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Oh yes. Yes indeed.

Good morning, America.

You do not get to read this blog

if you are an American citizen and at least 18, until you have voted. You hear me, you punks? I don't care who you vote for. (Well, I do, but it's none of my business.) Just vote. This is your day, our day, to make a difference. Yes, we should be trying to make that difference, oh, 364 more days a year, in theory, but Real Life tends to get in the way of that, and, okay, so plenty of better people than us manage to do it anyway, but whatever for them, THIS IS YOUR BIG CHANCE. So do it. Do it even if you think your candidate or proposition or whatever is going to win. Or lose. Just do it. Participate in your democracy.

And then we can all come back here and talk about stupid shit again!

Saturday, November 1, 2008

Scary times!

So it's the day after Halloween. And, talk about scary (worst setup ever?)--this has been quite a month for me here at EA.  Let's review, shall we?  In one month I have now experienced:

1) A project cancelled
2) A team going into never-going-home crunch mode
3) A bad quarterly company report followed by layoffs and a stock skid.

Welcome to the gaming industry!

On the plus side, I am still employed.  And I am greatly enjoying my ongoing, daily edjumacation into the wonders and mysteries of game development.   While maintaining an uncharacteristic and deceptive low profile amongst my new co-workers, I have been soaking in gazillions of details into how these things get made, and, good god, is there a lot going on.  And if some of it may seem mundane to those who have been doing it all day every day, to me, it's extraordinary, just seeing how much scrutiny every teeny, tiny little thing in the game gets.   And watching how changing one of those teeny, tiny little things then has an effect on the game as a whole.  One of the coolest things to me, so far, is actually watching the game get demonstrably better every single day.  I mean, tangibly--you can feel it, see it, as the changes get incorporated.  The evolution of the product is just fascinating.   There really is a book in this to be written.  If only I knew a writer with experiencing writing about this industry to do it.  

In other news, I started two games this morning, neither of them Sims related:  Dead Space and Fallout 3.  I know as an EA Shill I should be pimping Dead Space to ya, but, honestly,  Fallout 3 is the one I ended up blowing the afternoon on.  You can't blame me.  I played (and reviewed for CGW) Fallout 1 a good 10 years ago.  I have history.  I'm a fan.   And I'm a real fan, too--not like the nincompoops on That One Special Internet Forum who have been aching for Fallout 3 to suck since it was first announced.   If I live to be 200 (just a couple more years now), I will never understand how people get that way, or why they bother, given the relative brevity of our time here on Earth.  So much bitterness....and for what?   So you don't believe Bethesda can do right by your beloved old games....go play something else.  But to waste time posting on message boards about it, with other fellow bitter people.   I don't know.   Out of morbid curiousity, I lurked over there the other day, right when the game came out, and sure enough, as the positive reviews were piling in,  it was one bitter comment after another in response: "LOL PRESS WHORES!" etc.  Because god forbid it might actually be good!  Or god forbid anyone else should enjoy it, since you're determined to hate it!  More laughable, and sad,  were the comments promising that when THEY buy the game and write their review, you can damn well be sure it's gonna be a negative one!!  Yeah.  That's great.  So your plan is to:

1) Buy a game you know you're going to hate, thereby giving the company you feel is screwing the franchise more money.
2) Play it even though you know you're gonna hate it,  thereby wasting hours out of your own life doing something you don't enjoy.
3) Write a negative review no matter what your play experience happens to be, because you know already that it's going to suck. 

Good grief does it suck to be you.

Meanwhile, I'll post my own impressions as I make my way through.   I have no agenda other than that I hope it's good, which is how I feel every time I start a new game.  Wacky notion, huh?