My Wooden Lung

So much for the blog-a-day habit. Really, I'm trying.

Here's my big technological revelation since last time: I suck at Halo 3. Badly. Then again, I never touched an Xbox controller until a few days ago; s'pose I've some catchin' up to do. A., kindly, has taken me under his wing, and already indoctrinated me into the online multiplayer realm (where I can get my ass kicked for all to see).

But I'm soooo glad I did it. The graphics are gorgeous, the Dashboard interface is damned slick, I get to commisserate with my buddies in ways not possible before the purchase—and I get my mind off of work. Score!

I also picked up a few more games, including Bioshock. In addition to being a gorgeous piece of artwork, I'm getting off on the general creepiness of the Objectivism's-logical-outcome atmosphere. Reminds me that any vision, carried to the extreme, no matter how well-intentioned, can make monsters of people.

Now for the motivation for the post's title: I've finally taken the initiative to go out and stock up on Radiohead's catalog. Jesus, I can't believe it's taken me this long... The Bends in particular is completely rocking my world, and I taught myself to play most of "Just" this past weekend.

Yes, you read right: I'm playing again. A lot. Even starting to come up with a few novel musical ideas. Of course, some of them bear an uncanny resemblance to Radiohead vibes...