NOTE: This is a blog post dedicated to ridiculing Heroes, particularly Season 2 of Heroes. If this sounds despicable to you, don’t read this blog post. If it seems despicable to you and you’re going to read it anyway, please note that there are a few mistakes in the post – something that the author has admitted in the comments section. If you came here looking for information on Season 3 of Heroes, it’s not here, and it never will be. When someone says that they are going to fix something that doesn’t yet exist – with a gun – it’s usually safe to assume that that person is joking in some way, shape, or form.

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For a few episodes, it seemed as if Heroes might rescue itself from the slow stupid suckage that has been its second season. This past week’s episode, however, plus another clause, was probably the single worst of Heroes’s’s’s short history. Probably, this is because it dealt not with a handful of worsening characters with worsening storylines, but two handfuls of worsening characters with worsening storylines.

Moreover, the show creators have not followed the advice that I offered in this post. A-hem:

  1. Ali Larter is not dead. Kill her. I don’t like her. I’m not sure anyone else does either.
  2. Hiro might as well still be stuck in ancient Japan, for all you are doing with him.
  3. Peter Petrelli is back, thank you for that. But instead of kicking ass, he is just turning into a dummy.
  4. Sylar is back to being a baddie, but instead of rediscovering his power, he has discovered how to be Darth Sidius.

In regards to number three on that list, let me just say that Peter is not the only character getting dumber by the episode. Everyone is getting dumber, if not in what they say and do then in what THEY DO NOT DO WITH THEIR SUPERPOWERS!

Case(s of beer) in point:

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Famous/infamous filmmaker Brian DePalma, say what you want about him, recently made a very good point about US press coverage surrounding the war in Iraq, during an interview about his new, controversial film Redacted. I wish I could find the article that I originally read – but this one does a decent job of relaying the same transcription of DePalma’s basic point: that through a combination of government control of the press, and the desensitization of the public in the face of so much coverage in toe-tal, the horrors of war that “We the People” were able to witness second-hand while our troops were in Vietnam, aren’t getting through to us this time around. Not through the major media outlets, at least.

For anyone who cares to know more about this, please refer to the article. I won’t be going into any more details about DePalma, or Redacted. And one (probably more like two or three or more) could argue forever about what has happened, is happening, or never happened, to journalism as we know/knew it. And-and, quite Frank(Drebin!)ly, there are a lot of contentious issues surrounding the whole production of this film. I am more concerned, at present, with using DePalma’s main point as excuse for making fun of the New York Times.

It was Saturday morning…

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Art and Gaming, Unabashed

October 9, 2007

In an early episode of the British sitcom “Spaced,” Tim and Daisy, the protagonists, counsel their downstairs neighbor, Brian, the tortured artist, on his fashion sense.


Daisy: You don’t like him, do you?
Tim: No, I do. I just think he’s a bit pretentious.
[Brian enters, wearing a very loud waistcoat]
Brian: How do you think I look?
Tim: Bit pretentious?
Daisy: You look lovely, Brian.
Brian: Do you think I should lose the waistcoat?
Tim: I think you should burn it. Because if you lose it, you might find it again.

Since Vince Twelve was kind enough to provide two games in “What Linus Bruckman Sees When His Eyes Are Closed” (conveniently abbreiviated “WLBSWHEAC”), running in simultaneous split-screen, here at Yesterday’s Salad we’ve opted to run two brief reviews of the game, side-by-side, ala Tim and Daisy.

The game is lovely. It’s a mix between two different but engaging puzzles, providing the player with a pair of different but illuminating narratives. One is particularly humorous, dotted with obscure science fiction references the world over; the other is downright mythopoetic, highlighting a young woman’s struggle to reassert the natural order of things, both in terms of the corporeal world and the ineffable.Yet, at first you only understand the one game, and then when you finish the really big puzzle at the center of it, you get to translate the puzzle that is happening above. Yet, while you’re engaged with it, the game above is still progressing somehow, it’s just that you don’t really know in which way. It’s a big mystery, until you finish the bottom game and enable the subtitles… then you can go back and see what you’ve been missing! The graphics are also pretty out of this world. The sci-fi game is admirably quirky, and the Japanese mythology game looks quite august in the detail with which it’s been drawn. Along with the sound design, which follows the gameplay hand-in-hand, and the cracking good dialogue  (which is both witty and at times bizzare). it’s an achievement of remarkable proportions.You see, it’s a game, but it makes you think in ways you wouldn’t imagine yourself doing so for any other game. In short, your interpretation of the game makes the whole thing last well beyond the time you’re playing it, such that it’s not really a game, after all. It’s a work of art. It’s a bit pretentious. I mean, seriously, there’s one ginormous puzzle in the middle of the game, with absolutely no ramping up of difficulty. And seriously, what kind of adventure game can it be if I don’t get to combine improbable items with one another to create MacGuyver-like contraptions? The author can have some brownie points for the central puzzle. It’s a lot harder than most of the puzzles with which adventure game-players are acquainted. Yet, seriously, if the guy is looking to appeal to a wider audience, should the central puzzle be one that you need a bloody graphic calculator to solve? Admittedly, the graphics are nice. Yet, what’s with putting half of the game in Japanese? Does he figure that most gamers worth their salt have worn through the Criterion Collection’s Kurosawa archive? Or perhaps he thinks that the average gamer’s brain is made of Twiglets and is relatively pliable? Seriously, though the independent-gaming press seems to be eating this game up, I can’t help but wonder if it’s just because they don’t “get” the game and are deathly afraid of appearing that way.I mean, contentions aside, it’s a good, solid game with very hard puzzles and bitching graphics. The dynamic music is also a strong point for a game that you might be playing (and pulling your hair out from) for quite some time.  Furthermore, you can get subtitles to the Japanese game if you complete the bottom game. And this will definitely turn some people off, although it’s funny to think that many adventure gamers have no problem taking *hours* to decode cyphers or other codes in games.

But the way that people fawn over it, ooh ahh, it’s a little weird. And I worry that people will immediately forsake the fact that it’s a game for the fact that it’s somewhat abstract, and will praise it but not play through it… simply latching on to it’s complexity without appreciating that as a part of adventure games. Kind of like a really bright gem as the only gem, when it’s really among many other gems that shine differently, right? I mean, I certainly get it. Do you?

No matter what the aspiring artist or jaded critic in you might say, “What Linus Bruckman Sees When His Eyes Are Closed” is an excellent game, and probably belongs in a similarly themed gallery installation near you. While some games might appeal to gamers alone, WLBSWHEAC is a game that you ought to play if you can operate a mouse, and well-worth sharing with pretty much everyone you know who uses a computer, if only to see where the medium can go. Any smoke that comes out of your ears is simply the gears of your mind coming to a halt and is par for the course. •