Hello, Ladies and Gents

It's time once again for a wonderful blog post, perhaps a little bit late in terms of assignments, but finals really know how to take their toll on a guy. Anyway, we're going back to the concept of video games, as writer's block is beginning to set in, as it typically does when I start writing something actually worthwhile. Go team.

Today's video game is... *drum roll* The Legend of Zelda! *applause*
 

The entirety of the Legend of Zelda series revolves around two primary characters: Link, and Princess Zelda (no, she's not the main character).

Link:

 

Link is the primary protagonist of the series, and the character that you play as in all of them. Humble but brave, these attributes are consistent with Link's role as the rightful bearer of the Triforce of Courage. He is known as the "Legendary Hero" in A Link to the Past, "Hero of Time" in Ocarina of Time and Majora's Mask, "Hero of the goddess" in Skyward Sword, "Hero of Winds" in The Wind Waker and Phantom Hourglass and "Hero chosen by the gods" in Twilight Princess.

Link is the chosen bearer of the Master Sword, a powerful magical sword that can be used against evil. As a child, he challenges Ganondorf in order to try to protect Zelda before he inadvertently helps Ganondorf find the Triforce in Ocarina of Time, forcing Link to undo the damage he had caused. 

He is a young Hylian boy who is renowned for his swordsmanship and fighting skill, such as his boomerang accuracy. Every iteration of Link wears a green tunic and a long green Phrygian cap and has long, pointed ears, a distinctive trait of the Hylian race and their descendants.

Princess Zelda:

Princess Zelda appears in most of the The Legend of Zelda games, often as a central focus of Link's quests. To date, she and those who bear her name have appeared directly in every game. She almost always gets herself kidnapped by Ganondorf, and Link is forced to save her. She is essentially one massive rescue quest waiting to happen in every game.

In terms of gameplay, IGN.com said it better (and in far fewer words) than I could ever hope to imagine.

"The Legend Of Zelda games feature a mixture of action, puzzles, adventure/battle gameplay, exploration, and questing. These elements have remained constant throughout the series, but with refinements and additions featured in each new game. Later games in the series also comprise stealth gameplay, where the player must avoid enemies while proceeding through a level, as well as racing elements. Although the games can be beaten with a minimal amount of exploration andside quests, the player is frequently rewarded for solving puzzles or exploring hidden areas with helpful items or increased abilities."

These games have been around for well over a decade now, and it was the very first game series I stuck my teeth into sixteen years ago (I was three when I started). They are definitely worth picking up.

BV

Continuing My Random Behavior... VIDEO GAMES! :D

More specifically, Halo.

Halo is a futuristic war "simulator" that takes place in the year 2552, with vistas ranging from various planets.You play as an advanced super soldier referred to as Petty Officer Master Chief-117, or just simply "Master Chief".

Chief has been tasked with taking the entire Covenant army, a large militia of sentient aliens hellbent on destroying anything and everything they see. Their primary target; Earth. But Master Chief isn't alone. His companion, the sassy but trustworthy Artificial Intelligence "Cortana", is always "in his head" (as she's actually housed in a chip that is placed in the receiving port in his helmet).

Master Chief is part of an advanced military experiment known as the Spartan program. Spartans are both biologically and mechanically enhanced to be the very best that mankind can offer. There have been four separate Spartan programs, all numbered numerically based on their induction into the UNSC (United Nations Space Coalition).

Spartan-I's were the test subjects and guinea pigs. Only one ever truly lived to survive.

Spartan-II's were the very best of the best. Although their conception wasn't exactly "moral", they are the best that mankind has to offer. Possible candidates for this program were observed as children. If they had the abilities and mental capacity required for becoming a Spartan, they were "conscripted" (forcibly taken from their homes and replaced with a flash clone, that died shortly after of "natural causes". I enjoy using quotation marks, also.) These children were then trained ruthlessly for around 6 years before they could finally enter the really difficult phase: Augmentation. They pumped them full of so many chemicals and various enhancers that they really could no longer be considered human. Very few survived this process, and even fewer were actually combat capable. John, or Master Chief, was one of the "lucky" few.

Spartan-III's were canon fodder. Much less extensive than Spartan-II's, and were meant to go into to combat for distractions. They were meant to die.

Spartan-IV's were the first volunteers. Somewhere between II's and III's, these were almost as capable and fearsome as the Spartan warriors of old.

Halo, itself, is a first-person shooter. You take the role of Master Chief (as stated before) in various worlds that you've been sent to for one purpose or another, such as the Covenant getting their hands on a weapon of mass destruction, or they've taken over a major human installation. You're there to stop them and either take back or take out your objective.

And, of course, I've only begin to scratch the surface of the marvelous world that Bungie Studios spent over a decade crafting. (Lore is a wonderful thing.) These games have continuously impressed me, and shall forever remain one of those games close to heart. If you wish to play one, pick up an Xbox console and go for it. You won't be disappointed. This, I can assure you.

Social Media, Digital Footprints, and You.

Hello again! I'm going to take another step away from the norm of this blog and write to you, today, about the wonderful world of social media, your digital footprints in the "sand of the internet", and how they can affect you and your possible careers in the future. This, of course, is a much more serious topic than I'm used to writing about, so bare with me.

An excellent article to read can be found here.

This article discusses the millions of people on the popular social networking site "Facebook" haven't even begun to realize what the privacy settings can do for them. As of right now, those people are allowing whomever to view their personal information. This ranges anywhere from their home addresses to their telephone numbers. This leaves room in itself for being stalked, and various other societal "no-no's".

On top of that, almost everybody can see what you post. Say, you had just a smidge too much to drink one night, and you decide to, in your drunken stupor, post all of these photos onto Facebook. Those photos are now there for the world to see until they're taken down. And even then, they may not be gone forever. People are capable of saving the photos directly to the hard drive of their computer, where they will remain long after they're removed from the site.

To make this situation even more volatile, future employers can and will almost always look at your Facebook profile for any issues, and for just an overall judge of your character. This can make or break you receiving said position.

What does this mean for you? Don't be stupid. There are various articles and websites dedicated to teaching you how to use the various privacy settings of just about anything. You're already reading this blog, meaning you know how to use the internet. Simply google things. In fact, let me do that for you.

BV

Why I Refuse to Go Backpacking

I'm going to take a few short breaks from my amazing demi-god adventure to tell you about a few other tales; This one, in particular, also involving pain and suffering. Both of which I was on the receiving end.

Let me get this out of the way now. I've always been the kid that would rather stay inside and play video games or read a good book than go outside and play sports, or do anything physically active. So when my brother-in-law offered to take me with him and his best college buddy on a backpacking trip in the Medicine Bow Mountains in Wyoming, I  was less than enthusiastic to go, but I reluctantly agreed.

 It was last summer when this half of the country had scorching temperatures consistently (in fact, one of those days my town was the hottest in the country). I had gone out to Cabela's, the "World's Foremost Outfitter" and purchased everything I was told I would need (basically some shorts and a camelback), and thought I was ready to go. I borrowed my brother's bag and we were off. About three hours later, we arrived (yay for me) and we packed up everything. All the water, food, and clothing we needed for the weekend was now on my back. And, of course, because I had yet to "get my feet wet" I packed about 30 lbs too much, and was stuck with a 60 lb bag for most of the weekend.

Now, the two guys I went with this were both veterans and had done this for fun regularly in college. They both took off at what seemed like mach 1 to me (imagine the tortoise and the hair, but the tortoise is still WAY behind at the end of the race, and quite possibly has been eaten by some large predator. That was me.) We started at around 11 am and traveled until around 4. We had covered 6 miles of uphill terrain when we found a nice lake to stop and set up camp. After everything was said and done (it was around 5 at this point), I rolled out my sleeping back and slept from then to around 6 the next morning. Exhausted was an understatement.

It was day 2, and things weren't getting any better, but I attempted to persevere and pull through. About three hours in, my two "guides" were ahead, blazing trails like normal, when my trekking poles (I needed them to even stand upright at this point) decided to collapse on me and I fell face first into a nice pile of dirt... mixed with sharp, pointy, and no-so-soft rocks. I was injured, thankfully, but never have I felt so much like a turtle in my life. After about ten minutes of rocking (and the two "guides" coming back to see why I was taking so long), I stood up and continued. We traveled 10 miles total that day, and that night was essentially a repeat of the first, only with much less sleep, as the camp was set on an incline, and my brother-in-law was rolling into me all night.

Dawn of the final day, and we all woke up. We packed up and were off. Thankfully, this was all downhill this day (I had figured as much, considering mountains have two sides to them). About 4 hours and six miles later, we were at the car and I was dead to the world. I curled up in the back of the car and attempted to cry. You don't understand what tired is until you're too tired to cry.

So, moral of this story is: If a family member tries to convince you that sights and sounds of the wilderness are worth days of pain and suffering, tell them otherwise. Spare yourself the pain.

Greetings and Salutations!

So, this is obviously the first post here, meaning it automatically has to be spectacular and out of this world in order for you folks to return. Which, all in all, is the primary basis for starting a blog to begin with; Sharing your innermost thoughts and feelings somewhat anonymously with the world, and hoping for that small shred of internet fame, or the rare moment of empathy. So, let me begin by telling you a fun tale of past times, both somewhat amusing and terrifying. I'll entitle it "Dear Diary"

"Dear Diary" (Told you I was going to)

Imagine that, as crazy as this sounds, you were born a demigod; that all of the stories about Hercules and Perseus were true, and you were the next generation of “heroes” that was destined to save the world. As if this wasn't enough, now imagine that you were only 12-years-old when you found out, and you were forced to move away from home to a camp where they trained your "kind". This was my reality about a year ago. It started a landslide of action, romance, and adventure. Let me start at the very beginning...

It was an average Tuesday morning when my alarm clock went off. Little did I know, it would be the last normal morning I'd have for a very long time, if not forever. It was seven o'clock and a typical school morning. I was probably dreaming about that stupid Halo game I played last night, or the girl that I had a massive crush on at the time. You know, typical teenage-guy stuff. I groggily sat up, wiping the "sand" from my eyes, and rolled out of bed. I went through my daily morning ritual of taking a nice hot shower (that lasted precisely 15 and a half minutes), eating the same cereal (cookie crisp), brushing my teeth with the same toothpaste (Colgate orange mint), and putting on the same pair of shoes that I had since the school year started (size 11 wide Nike something-or-others). You could say I was in a serious rut.

I threw on my backpack full of the homework that I was supposed to have done the previous night instead of the aforementioned Halo game and ran outside to catch the bus. Another average day at school, or so I thought. I absentmindedly greeted the driver with my typical morning greeting of, "Hey, Sal." Sal wasn't exactly what you would call mean, or gruff, or any other adjective describing anything other than happy. Sal was a very nice guy, and one of the rare few that actually enjoyed his job. What I heard in response was almost a low growl. Not so much one that you'd hear from an angry animal, although very similar. It was the kind of growl you got if you stared for just too long at that rough-looking biker dude, and he was annoyed by it. I gave him a quick glance as I took my seat.

The ride to school, for the most part, was normal. We took a few different turns than normal, and picked up a few students that I'd never seen before in my life, but we still ended up at school on time, and with all of our limbs still attached to boot. I got off the bus and went through my morning like normal. That is, until lunch...

I sat with the same group of friends that I normally do, talking about the same things that we do everyday. Pretty monotonous, looking back. Anyway, one of the "new" students that got onto the bus decided to sit at the one available seat we had left.

"Hey. What's up?" I asked as we all turned to look at him, trying not to isolate the new guy.

He hissed back at me, not unlike a cobra.

I gave him a look, "You alright, pal?"

"You smell like one, Brandon VanDeMortel..."

"Excuse me?" I asked, starting to freak out a little bit.

"Who is this guy?" My friend turned to me, "And how does he know your name, Brandon?"

"No idea..." I stood up and puffed out my chest like some demented cockatoo, hoping to look more imposing than I really was, "I think you should leave, pal. Maybe find a new place to sit..."

He immediately stood up, and, simply because I can't describe it any differently, changed: morphed. Large wings sprouted from his back as large demon horns sprouted from his temples, "Time to die, Brandon VanDeMortel."

I froze with fear. This couldn't possibly be happening. People didn't suddenly grow horns and wings, and then demand my death. So, I did the only thing any sane person would do; I turned and ran for dear life. I pushed my way through a crowd of other students, probably seventh graders, and immediately into my English Teacher.

"What's the rush, Brandon? You know there's no running in the hallways." He gave me a stern look.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Kelly..." I responded as if I actually cared about the school rules at this point, "I was being chased by someth-... someone..."

"I couldn't possibly imagine anyone chasing y-"

Just then, the demon-boy burst through the doors, looking even angrier than before, if that was possible. I turned to face him, "I don't know who you are, or what you want, but I think you have the wrong guy. I'm just a kid..."

Mr. Kelly put his arm in front of me as he stepped in front of me, "It took you longer than I expected, lamia."

"There's no use, demigod. One of you will die." the lamia hissed through razor-sharp teeth.

"What's he talking about, Mr. Kelly? Demigods? And what's a lamia?" I took a few steps back, "And I really don't have any desire to die..."

"Everything will be explained soon, Brandon.... Now, stay back!" He clenched his fists and charged the monster...

And that's all you get for now. Stay tuned for more.

B.V.