Snow Day

  There's something about having your first snow day with your partner in a setting that can only be described as whimsical that really solidifies a relationship. A surprise visit to York for their birthday ended up with us gaining entry to The Shop That Cannot Be Named, (a Harry Potter themed place for those that aren't nerds), and as we were waiting in line, large flakes of snow began to fall.

  ... and fall, and fall, and fall...

  ... and basically drown us as we froze.

  There was a lot of snow is what I'm trying to get at.

  I'm talking streets covered in less than ten minutes, people running for dear life because the citizens of the United Kingdom don't often prepare for a white winter. But despite the cold, we trudged on. Up and down streets full of shivering people, along corners home to buskers and other street performers - and as the man with the black guitar began to sing Can't Help Falling In Love, I somehow felt I had made it. I'm in a random English city with the love of my life, completely drenched by the amount of snow that makes you a little worried to drive, and we're being serenaded with one of our songs... all by complete coincidence.

  Don't look away from the arms of a moment; when you find your moment, I promise it will be worth it.

Signed,

Elijah.

Meta Sentience.

01/12/2017

Philosophies of Jim

  Madness is so often mistaken for philosophy, so my question to you is; how often do you think philosophy is mistaken for madness? How many times do you think somebody said something comparable to, 'yo, um, guys? I think the earth might be round??' and drew the same reaction? Probably not many, right? Why listen to some crazy old man who supposedly knows nothing outside of himself?

  I don't know. Jim Carrey's been on the brain lately and people seem to think he's going a bit doolally. I believe he's a lot more down to earth than people care to understand. He's unhappy, and has been for a long time due to the amount of time he himself has been stuck as Jim Carrey: Funny-man extraordinaire. He made a promise to himself that he would make ten million before he turned thirty, and he did that. Unfortunately, only now does he realise that wealth doesn't make a sad man happy.

  It breaks my heart to see a man I have so much respect for, an individual who has single-handedly molded my sense of humour into what it is today, in such a discontented and dilapidated state. I would give anything to have a one on one conversation with Jim over Jim Carrey any day of the week. How often do you think people asked for that?

  If there's one thing I can take from Jim, one thing I can shamelessly live by, it's that life doesn't happen to you, it happens for you. You can fail at what you don't want, so you may as well take a chance doing what you love.

  Have a great weekend, everybody.

Signed,
Elijah.
Meta Sentience.
24/11/2017

A Clown Among People

Drawing the menthol smoke into his cold lungs, Oliver allowed it to sit as usual, to fester inside him before exhaling slowly into the blistering night air. The smoke arrogantly wafted into the faces of happy couples as he passed, as if it were obeying the spiteful will of it's conduit, drawing snarls and knitted brows from the victims. The Clown sniggered, but there was no real humour behind it. Every fibre of his being wanted an excuse to ruin somebody's night. He was feeling shitty, so everybody else around him deserved to feel shitty too. It took a powerful force within him to resist the urge to shove an ice cream into a kid's face, or to kick somebody into the sloppy mud.
    Thailand wasn't the place he wanted to be at this time of year. The locals were nice enough, meaning of course their pleasant attitude was unbearable and... hospitable. He'd missed Hallowe'en with Niall, he was missing Bonfire Night, and he would most likely miss Christmas, too. He hated all three, but that simply wasn't the point. There was a constant nagging in his head offering the insight that maybe his father had sent him away on work purposely.
    If he were honest, he wouldn't usually give two fucks if he slept through occasions like those. But seeing Niall's face light up during the holidays was about the only blessing he had, and that had been taken from him. The younger male understood his boyfriend's malicious, hateful nature, and somehow was able to soften him. Perhaps that was the real reason Oliver was angry; he was missing the chance to have life breathed into him. To have a smile on his face caused by somebody that he could make happy.
    He placed the cigarette between his lips for the last time, then dropped it onto the pavement without attempting to douse the stub. Fireworks reflected in the pupils of people he passed, but his own were lined and cold. Lifeless and unforgiving.
    The buzz from his phone pulled him out of the thoughtful smokey haze. Taking it from his jacket pocket, he pressed Niall's text icon. 'Get some sleep tonight. I know what you're like when you're tired and grumpy. x'
    His nostrils flared as he scoffed. 'Telling an insomniac to sleep is like telling a man with a broken leg to get up and walk it off.' he tapped out in response.
    Not ten seconds later came Niall's cheeky reply, 'how about telling a grumpy bastard to lighten up? Is that a better comparison? x'
    Oliver's lips curled at that. 'Go to sleep, I'll call you in the morning.'
    'I love you. x'
    'Good, someone has to. I love you, too. x'
    
Signed,
Elijah.
Meta Sentience.
14/11/2017

The Beginner's Guide: A Subjective Idea

  There are few things that I can say I'm genuinely in love with, and it's taken me over two years to really think about and find the right words I want to say about this, but here I go. I hope this lives up to what I hope and expect from myself.

  The Beginner's Guide, (TBG), was released onto the Steam store on October 1st of 2015 without much explanation. The only details anybody really knew for a fact was that it was created by Davey Wreden under the studio name Everything Unlimited Ltd. The indie game is Wreden's follow up to his heavily praised piece The Stanley Parable, (TSP) - And by 'heavily praised', I'm saying Wreden went from an unknown game designer to basically what I can only describe as the Messiah of game-based storytelling overnight.

  I would call TBG an experience, to say the least. The game supposedly combats struggles that Wreden faced during the release of TSP; so much attention drawn to one person in such a short period of time, a spotlight that he found almost impossible to escape because finally he was given exactly what he'd been craving. To be adored and idolised, to be questioned and studied in such a way that he could offer his thoughts on everything he'd always wanted to talk about.

  By writing this article and by bringing attention to this game once again, I am desecrating the very message TBG is trying to send. But as somebody who has spent what ought to be described as an unhealthy amount of time thinking about this game, I'm willing to take that step. Besides, I'm almost certain there's still a small part of Wreden that revels in being examined.

  The game for me centres on two ideas:

• Creating and sharing in hopes of reaping some form of external validation to feed the desperate need to be liked and appreciated. And encompassed within that, being content with the belief that what you have created is good and worth the effort it took to make it, regardless of who sees it and what they ultimately think.
• The Artist is Absent.

  As a writer and somebody that used to make games in college, the connection I feel with TBG is fierce. I am in a constant looping struggle of desperately needing to create something for myself, to give me purpose, and then ultimately sharing it with the world. It's like keeping a secret. Don't tell anyone and the secret is safe. It should be as simple as that. But the desire to keep my own secrets is constantly battling the overwhelming, insatiable appetite that can only be satisfied with praise and approval. It's like a cyclic nagging in my head telling me to send what I produce into the world in hopes that other people will like it too, because if they don't then I've wasted my time and I need to be better. This frame of mind is exhausting, and it's dangerous. It is because of this that I related so intensely with the theme of the game.

  The Artist is Absent, (TAIA), is a concept that I have been continuously enamoured and humoured by throughout my writing career, and I noticed specific parts of it interwoven into the game's story. It's hard to talk about relatively to TBG because by saying, 'TBG is about the absence of an artist,' I am then contributing to the concept itself. I am making that assumption because it has never been clarified by Wreden himself. Making the assumption that you understand what the artist meant to do without actually knowing it concretely is TAIA. Imagine; you've been making all sorts of assumptions and telling everybody you could find exactly what a certain thing meant, and then suddenly you're confronted directly by the creator who then tells you flat out that you're either wrong, or there simply is no meaning. That is the absence of an artist.

  The fact that I am telling you all this, the fact that I researched this game enough to somewhat understand the point, (I think... at least I hope), is me taking part in TAIA, which I hate. If you ever studied literature in English class, you might recognise what I'm talking about. 'Yes, the curtains were blue, but what does that mean? Could the author be attempting to cleverly reference an underlying melancholia through the colour of the curtains? Maybe the blue represents an oncoming state of calm that the reader is yet to realise!' Or maybe the curtains were just fucking blue. There is no way to know the meaning behind someone's work unless an artist tells us outright, so why are we so obsessed with plastering an interpretation on something as if it were fact?

  This then cleverly loops back to my previous point. Praise. The excessive need to feel positively validated by some external source because we're so desperate to be told that we're good, that we're right and that what we come up with is brilliant. I've done my best to really avoid the plot because if there's anything you take from this post, it's that I want you to go play the game yourself, or watch a playthrough of it and make up your own mind. The ironic part is that it's impossible not to speculate on the real meaning, which is exactly what the game is telling us not to do. The sheer enigmatic nature of The Beginner's Guide can only be likened to the cat that wants you to pet it and then scratches you two minutes later for doing so, but... it was worth petting that cat, right?

  I'm going to include a couple links here at the bottom for people interested in digging deeper. Until then, see you guys next week.

Davey Wreden: Playing Stories - Aalto University Games Now! (Lecture)

The Artist is Absent: Davey Wreden and The Beginner's Guide

Signed,
Elijah.
Meta Sentience.
10/11/2017

Turn Back

Turn back, turn back from this cave,
You said let me prove that I'm brave, let me keep going,
But the cave goes for miles... and miles, and miles,
And you're so tired.

Click the link, press play now and click the blue words to proceed.

Turn Back

Signed,
Elijah.
Meta Sentience.
07/11/2017

Jigsaw: A Homage

  I cannot begin to describe the shivers and chills that danced along my spine when the classic Saw theme began to fade in as I settled down to watch this Hallowe'en's brand new bloodbath. The first trap really set the scene; reminiscent of the Neck Tie trap in Saw V. Five unlucky sinners confined in the dark, waiting until they're forced to atone in this gruesomely clever homage.

  I won't be describing every detail of what happened in this new installment because I want you to be able to read this spoiler free and enjoy the immersion. But I will be going through a few things I noted down while watching, so stop reading here if you want everything to remain a surprise!

  The film's place in the timeline is established early with a ten year mark, which I personally thought was a good choice. Get the initial, 'is it a sequel? Is it a prequel?' misunderstanding out the way so the true fuckery can begin later on. *insert cringey devil emoji here*

  The first trap ends and there's a bit of calm, after that short period the classic Saw/horror movie character trope is introduced; the one who is willing to endanger or even kill in order to escape or complete the games. I like this because it shows the movies are still willing to keep the age old formula. It works even if it shouldn't and the group's dynamic doesn't get old. The one person you're supposed to hate until the true threat is disclosed. They certainly didn't have a leg to stand on.

  Overall I really liked the traps shown. All were new and a couple had me laughing, mostly due to excitement of seeing them, which was a pleasant surprise, and the backstories of every individual were really nicely outlined so there was no confusion.

  A couple nice things were added as a homage to the previous movies, such as a room of Kramer's traps owned or built by an avid super-fan, pig masks strewn among multiple scenes, and the saw, (that I can only assume is supposed to be the one Lawrence Gordon used to amputate his foot in Saw), is placed ceremoniously on an altar. All nods that I both appreciated and reciprocated in respectful admiration.

  Everything about this movie, for me, was perfect. The execution - no pun intended - after such a long gap between the seventh film was extremely well done. The timeline wasn't eviscerated beyond all recognition, and it was fun to narrow your eyes and guess along until the big reveal. The clues were all there and it was really easy to follow and understand, even for people who haven't seen the other volumes in the franchise.

  I'll leave the rest to you guys. I'd love to know what you thought about the film once you see it, so all comments welcome. Once again, thanks for joining me and I'll see you next week.

Signed,
Elijah.
Meta Sentience.
27/10/2017

  

Fødseldag

  As a general rule, I can't stand birthdays. Yes, yes I know. 'Oh, poor Meta! Whiny little bitch boy hates the one day of the year where everybody is nice to him!' Shut up, okay? I'm introverted as it is and a birthday means everybody feeling obligated to see and speak to you when they otherwise wouldn't remember you exist.

  I've received an influx of Facebook wall posts from people I don't even speak to. I know that sounds unappreciative, but I don't even know who some of them are. I have over 200 people on my friend list and I speak to about four on the regular. They're not fooling anyone either. I know Mark Zuckerburg whips out his government ID and sends notifications to inform everybody. 

  Do you know what I asked for on my birthday? Hm? Go on, have a guess before you read ahead... a blender. Allow me to repeat myself - a blender. I've gotten to the age when I'm asking for kitchen appliances, and I'm going to take pleasure in eviscerating all the fruit and ice I can find. Will it blend? Let's find out.

  Regardless of that, I had a surprisingly decent day and I suppose that's all anybody could ask for. I'm now going to waste the rest of my night on Skyrim and being the lame old man that doesn't drink on his special day. Have a great rest of the week, everyone, and I'll see you all on Friday.

Signed,
Elijah.
Meta Sentience.
17/10/2017

It Was Called YOU-Tube For A Reason

  YouTube is an amazing platform. It gives anybody of any age the opportunity to make new beginnings for themselves. Unfortunately the coin has two sides. Sites like these are so anal about the money they're making, they lose sight of their creators. There wouldn't be YouTube without content creators, and over-regulating the system is jeopardizing what they built and what it was originally intended for.

  Yes, I said anal. Stop laughing. Stop laughing. Stop it.

  Despite the over-saturated correction of the site, creators with the intention of targeting are the ones getting the recognition that they don't rightly deserve. With drama channels hosted by malevolent garden gnomes, 'prank' channels that make you cringe more than laugh, and let's not forget the teenage celebrities dropping diss-tracks to rack up views; is it any wonder YouTube has become the putrid beast it is today? The damage control needed right now is off the fucking charts.

  One set of creators in particular seems to be YouTube's latest victims. Though it's not that new really, it's been going on for months and is just gaining more traction. Isn't it a shame that people feel the need to speak up once a situation reaches it's breaking point?

  The commentary community, those that offer unique perspectives on news and trending topics as they happen, have been hit the hardest. Some individuals have undeservedly lost more than half of their ad revenue despite having previously done so much for the site. To name a couple, Pyrocynical brought light to child pornography and exploitation happening in the darker reaches of YouTube and had the videos removed. An interview conducted by ImAllexx assisted a mother in relieving her children from the abusive family they were with. Now the kids are happy and where they should be. Yet despite these factors, ImAllexx, MrRepzion, Birdman, Bobby Burns and Andy Warski are just a few that've had their videos completely demonetised. 

  Good to know that YouTube lets that shit pass by while punishing it's creators for no accountable reason. Clearly, we as creators have the power to influence generations ahead of us, and that positive intent is being quashed by what I can only assume is the corporate ladder. YouTube is meant to support the people that make and have made the site what it is, not amplify their fear by taking away their livelihood and main source of income.

  I hope there is some kind of resolve to the current situation, I really do. It would crush me if the people I admire were unable to continue making their videos for the enjoyment of themselves and their audience. Not only because I find solace in the content, but because it's heartbreaking to watch people struggle to continue doing what they love.

Signed,

Elijah.

Meta Sentience.

18/08/2017

  

Meta Updates

  Today's post is a little rushed and I'm not entirely sure what to talk about, so we'll just go with a couple updates for now. I can't come up with hilarious anecdotes and uncensored comedy all the time, you know.

  So the convention last weekend was fantastic. Great vibes, great cosplays, and we met up with our favourite artist running a stall and bought some more of his work. Our Doctor Who group was well received on the Saturday, and on the Sunday I spent my time rolling around the convention hall in my Tobuscus cosplay. Heelys and all. The latter was certainly the better day.

  As for my writing, what I hope will become a book now has a title. 'Despondence'. The book is about mental health and the title means; 'to overcome depression or a depressive state with hope and courage'. The screenplay I began working on a while back is also based around mental health issues and struggling to function in an extremely social environment, so it seems I have some kind of theme going. I'm okay with that. It seems I'm best at writing for domestic situations.

  In other news, more internet drama has been happening as usual. Clearly they didn't read my post on avoiding that. Word to the wise, if you're going to make an indirect, don't drop yourself in it. Keep your indirect's just that.

  I apologise for not having much to talk about today other than what's been going on. Hopefully on Friday I'll have something a little more enthralling for you all. 

  See you Friday, you beautiful bastards!

  ... Meta, you are not Phillip DeFranco... stop that.

Signed,
Elijah.
Meta Sentience.
15/08/2017

Meta Character Creation

  Very rarely does anybody create characters without thinking of flaws to give them. We can't help it. The exhilaration of 'playing God' is too much to handle. Whether it's some kind of horrific physical or mental disease riddling their existence, or emotional scarring impacting every aspect of their lives, they all have... something. The fact is, perfect characters are boring.

  Acting as God over your characters isn't the only reason they are the way they are. I think everybody can vouch for me when I say that there's pieces of the creator in the creation. My characters are constantly broken and trampled, with very minute amounts of potential to be somebody better. The reason? They're a reflection of myself. Saying this doesn't mean that because Zack Grayson is a recovering sex addict, I myself am some kind of raging sex machine. And it equally doesn't mean that I have issues talking to women just because Doug Walker harbours that struggle.

  Yet on the other hand, my characters are a part of me. I share the anxiety and the social ineptitude of Doug, and the ability to be as tactless and calculating as Zack. They're a sneaky way for me to be self-aware of my own problems. Isn't that fascinating?

  Now, this brings up an interesting detail; Never use the book to read the author. Remember in high school when you were told to analyse an environment in great detail? 'Yes, the curtains were blue, but what does that mean? Could the author be attempting to cleverly reference an underlying melancholia through the colour of the curtains? Maybe the blue represents an oncoming state of calm that the reader is yet to realise!' Or maybe the curtains were just fucking blue.

  Just because there are possibilities that might amount to a plausible explanation doesn't mean that's what the author intended. BUT! That is the absolute beauty of art! It is up to you to interpret such works however you feel, regardless of the artist. When the work reaches you, the artist is dead.

Signed,

Elijah.

Meta Sentience.

30/06/2017