I won’t bore you with the amazingly intricate and angsty and unnecessary details here. I’ll stick one into Articles when I have the time. Objections? No problem. You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to.

School
Let’s wrap this up. We left to vacation almost exactly how it was expected. Chem, in classic B-ritter style, ended on a test, and a massively long one at that. Very, very few were able to finish before the ring of the bell, and because of that, everyone hated Indian for a while. But it lasted only till Eileen. About predictability, Eileen’s class was spent goofing off in Speedball; many jocks skipped class; the remaining people who tried put up such a pathetic scope that one couldn’t help laughing.

Fast forward to Jerry. Jerry rewarded our patience for the last three months by announcing that today would be a good day to give anyone he wished a five-point mini-quiz. As expected, white and azn bitches argued their way out, and after some “F-F-F-F-Fine”s, we were treated to half an hour of Jerry making ridiculous claims about his childhood. Now typically I’m not one to laugh at my teachers, but yeah, that was pretty sad. Just when a day couldn’t get more typical, the fire alarm rang. Its expectedness showed up on everyone’s idle faces; no longer was there any moaning; we have accepted it as a way of life.

AE History, as an AE class, would never do anything related to “work” on the day before vacation. So we sat around and watched Seinfeld (Note: I am not complaining. Seinfeld is awesome). Afterwards, however, we were reduced to watching something along the lines of “Sandlot”, which chronicled the tragic tales of a dozen mentally handicapped children, pathetically plotting their dooms, wasting prime hours of their lives. Just as the tears of boredom began to dissolve my face in saltiness, the bell rang and, in excellent style, it was time for a Trig quiz. I’d say it went well, but Noeth has ten days to decide what constitutes a minus 10 out of 50. So no comment there... yet.

Relaxation? Well, some might say that about my last French class of 2004, but by now, it should’ve been deduced that no miracle of hell would possibly make that class tolerable to an at least mildly intelligent human being in my place. The headache was subsiding when I went to lunch, and once again sanctuary wasn’t present.

There he was, omniscient, always looming in the background, ready at any spur of the moment to say something remarkably stupid or to supply a totally unnecessary laugh. As we played cards that period, Kevin repeatedly emphasized his stupidity and pathetically massive ego? For truly, no one with his head on straight with a brain would ooze the stupidity that gleans from his every pore, his every action. Every loss of his preceded a whine, a “No, Let’s Not Play Ass Out”, a sulking attitude, much of the “What the fuck? That was gay” bull, and many, many pathetic insults. Every victory of his preceded a general gloating, retarded laughing (are we all familiar?), and constant whining that one couldn’t change positions. After his victories, he imposed a jubilant attitude, which he assumed extended toward the entire group, despite his pathetically bad sportsmanship whenever he himself lost. For after all, I don’t mind losing. It is losing to a sore loser that really raises my temper.

That HAD to get out there publicly somehow...

Anyway, AE Bio was spent relaxingly watching Napoleon Dynamite, a mildly funny movie. However, I fail to see its thrilling nature when most of it consists of badly done stereotypes and pitiful people’s lives, with absolutely no plot, merely a sequence of quasi-related events.

But with this final relaxing, pathetic AE class, I was off. A last usurpation was left to be made, but that’s another tale.

”Hey... I have Games.”
Before I start this section, I must reiterate that one of my primary forms of entertainment is video games. They take up a significant portion of my thoughts and actions, so any sexually related incidents or innuendoes mentioned below should not be used against me in any sort of case, social or legal.

December 24th. A day of mixed feelings. Many hours of cleaning and shouting involving Azn parents filled the day till noon, to the point that my trip to the dump was actually a relief. If you can feel my pain, thank you for your consideration. As we finally left for Christmas gifts in the midst of loud, unnecessary arguments, my mind was torn. So many options... so few that I could get... Eventually the choice had to be made. Did I make the right one?

December 25th. A day commonly referred to as Christmas. Gifts included two sweatshirt/fleeces, cash, and traditional chocolates. The final two gifts I recognized from yesterday. But was it possible? My sister spent no such revered time leaving the most savored gifts for last. She whipped out Mario Kart: Double Dash!! and was all over it downstairs before I had even finished inhaling the smell of the wrapping paper covering the Legend of Zelda: NES edition. I slipped it out and set it aside and slowly, slowly opened the final gift. Hoping that it wouldn’t be an anticlimax later, I finally removed Metal Gear Solid 3 from its wrapping and undid the plastic.

Downstairs, I relished the taste of Mario Kart. It was quite stimulating; the constant usage had aroused me greatly; I was ready for some hard-core action. First a quick break to finish “cleaning my room” (HAH!), and a shot online. But this was all foreplay. After going downstairs, I turned on the PS2 and experienced MGS3: Snake Eater.

I’m a reasonable man. I don’t believe in preemptive love for anything. After all, I had been unsure about even get MGS3 in the light of such giants as Prince of Persia, Ratchet and Clank, Jak III, Grand Theft Auto, Metroid Prime, and of course, Tales of Symphonia. Yet somehow it had already been decided by the time I got there. I recalled that my dad probably wouldn’t get me GTA; I recalled that the new-age platformers might not float my boat at all; I recalled I hadn’t even finished Metroid Prime and that it hadn’t been special; I recalled with some pain that I could technically buy the T-rated Tales of Symphonia at my will at K-Mart.

It was Prince of Persia: Warrior Within and Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater. Never had I played a Prince of Persia game, yet the glowing reviews and fantastic hype nearing that of Ninja Gaiden was definitely drawing me to its cover. On the other hand, I had tried and failed miserably at the original Metal Gear Solid, which I had always intended to play before starting its second or third installment.

But time was not infinite. I chose Legend of Zelda out of a three-pack of it, Zelda II, and Castlevania. I chose MGS3 out of much worthy competition. It was on.

Now I return. My preemptive love rule was fading before my eyes as the beautiful, smooth animation and flawless voice acting pulled me into the mind of Naked Snake. Seto Kaiba’s voice was a plus, I must say, behind our hero Jack.

One of my complaints about Final Fantasy X was it excessive cutscene. Before the linearity, it was the total lack of playing time that turned me off to the game. Let me say immediately that MGS3 is in no way less offensive in this area. At least half the game so far has consisted of cinematics.

But what is so different? What sets MGS3’s cinematics from those of FFX? It’s hard to say. Perhaps it’s the slightly distorted realism. Perhaps it is the far superior characterization and voice acting behind the faces. Perhaps it is Snake himself. Yet despite a little frustration, never did I feel that there was nothing to be gained from watching these.

I’ve played about three hours of Snake Eater. It looks like I’ll be playing it for much more.

Legend of Zelda itself is no joke. As the original gem in what is by far my favorite gaming series ever, Zelda I has substance. It is the original save game, it is the master of exploration, exceeding even those of its sequels; your freedom is limited only by your skill. I invested an hour or two of frustration and triumph before completing the first dungeon. Admittedly, the game is very dated; the graphics and sound haven’t aged nearly as well as many classics. The smoothened gameplay of its sequels surpasses the sometimes limited-feeling controls. Yet the game retains the charisma and charm of 1987. The total openness, the fanfare that signals the overworld theme, Link’s sword, the realization that it’s your world to work with.

And of course there is Double Dash. I haven’t spent much time at all at our latest Gamecube game, but judging by my sister’s unhealthy obsession and her in general good taste of games, I realize that this may be the most enduring of the classics that entered my residence this Christmas.

Bits ‘n’ Pieces
Well, here it is. My thoughts of vacation so far are great; even the Azn party was more tolerable than expected. A new Chronicles page is up, and another is in progress. Denny is in the works, though it comes quite slowly. Expect to see slow progress, as I will be immersed within the world of Hideo Kojima.

Also, this vacation looks to be very open-ended. Tomorrow starts a week without father and without school. Can’t you imagine the evil smile that’s on my face right now?

I hope you’ve had a Merry Christmas. I sure had one.