Prize The First: Brandon

To the victor... a meeting with Slamm Dunk! (hooray)



Click to enlarge

An Unu∫ually Brief Treati∫e Upon ∫elf-gifting

Time after the holidays tends to find me mulling over olde yarns of wisdom. These kernels that stick in the teeth of your brain are at worst unpickable, and at best unflickable. This year, the loot Saint Nick procured for me was fairly vast, though not infinitely so. Despite the enviable sheen of my spoils, I still felt something was lacking. In a bout of soul-searching, I turned to a reliable adage:

Though turn, turn ye do
Through ∫pinning ∫tyles of ∫teeléd bone
Clamping pence-pur∫e from hand to hip,
Thine weathered greav∫e collap∫e
In concert with cracked cobble∫tone
Exhau∫tion bru∫heth clo∫er this grail acro∫s your lip.

And so did I emerge from Best Buy victorious.

7DoC: Contest Winners

December 19th - Brandon
December 20th - John
December 21st- Wes
December22nd- Wes
December23rd- Chris
December24th- Planet Earth
December 25th- Pat (although it's Milon, you moro[n])

Prizes will be doled out as I see fit.

Joey Coco Day

Today, December 28th, is Joey Coco Day. It has been so for years, ever the excuse to don a party hat. However, thanks to the vacancy of my email inbox, I have deduced that this is a fact of which many of you are unaware! In the wake of this unsettling realization, I have decided to spend the remainder of my days (in 2006) educating you all on... The Potentially Unfamiliar Nuances of this Blog!†

Most of you know well the variety of readers that peruse The Joseph Luster Report on a daily basis. A common language has been developing amongst my readers for the past year, but to say that this vernacular is evenly distributed would be a heinous lie!

Notes of Import Regarding The Language of this Blog

Let's take the above paragraph, and translate it Babelfish-style into the way a seasoned Report reader would see it.

Most of you know well the variety of readers that peruse The JLR on a daily B. A common language has been developing amongst The JLRmy (pronounced jay•el*ar•me) for the past Twelve Mo', but to say that this vernack is evenly distributed would be a 5625 (police code for lying)!

I think that, despite the fact that we all hail from different levels of reading-my-blog expertise, we can all learn to get along in the new year.



†Joseph Luster reserves the right and retains the high probability of flaking on this and any other promised features.

7 Days of Christmas: Day Seven

Apologies for yesterday being so broken. Young Joey Coco found himself visited by the spirits (read: libations) of Christmas Past, Present and Future, all of which acted as the snakes 'round Medusa's face, excreting their saccharine venom in the guise of foreboding tales and life lessons bearing extreme import.

So here we are! It is Christmas day, and I hope you harbor some comfort in knowing that I am most assuredly no more than one to fifty-five feet away from my computer or, as I affectionately refer to it, the box in which all of you live.

I am fairly certain there is a large mouse that lives within my walls, but that is a story for another day, and I won't entertain the thought of kicking him or her out on Christmas, even if they are Jewish.

Open it and play, friends:

7 Days of Christmas: Day Six

Hungover and tired. You all win today.

7 Days of Christmas: Day Five

Erotic update of a "classic":

7 Days of Christmas: Day Four

It took me the entirety of the Streets of Rage 2 soundtrack to compose this mess. I'll be really impressed if any of you get this one (resist the urge, Canaan), mostly because I don't think drawings exist of this damn game. I had to use the raw energy of an 8-bit screencap to cull its essence, mashing it together with my memories and how I always envisioned the protagonist in greater detail. The color scheme here is pretty much a pure extraction of the original pixels.

Then again, maybe that will make it easy. I don't know!

One Last Fuck-up for '06

I'll admit it, I fucked my template up something nasty. I switched my blogger from its current setup to the new one that allows signing in with your gmail account, and a host of new features that sounded "neat."

I decided to check out what some of the other templates would look like and, to be safe, copied my reigning champion layout into a text file. After some experimenting, I came to the conclusion that my blog looked fine as is, and pasted my old template back into its proper location.

No dice. It wouldn't work at all. Being no goddamn scientist, I gave up after mentally wrestling with it for a few minutes, which is comparable to a child slamming the triangular peg into the circle. I Hope it's not too much of an eyesore for you guys.

At least it isn't pink, right?

An Eternal Fart in the Butt of Biollante

The contents of a man's wallet is said to speak volumes of his character. Mine weaves a tale of adventurous exploits and impromptu derring-do!

Here are some gems plucked during its cleaning that, once mined from the dark canals of my wallet, are now deemed national treasures.

Click for increased clarity

Clockwise from top to bottom:

1) Slightly erotic (?) Slam Dunk holographic card. That title looks weird now without the crucial second M.

2) Some backstory. About 5 years ago, when I should have been book-learning, I left my NES on for two days straight playing Data East's meisterwerk, Rampage. I wrote my score down and it's been gaining age (and value!) behind my debit card ever since.

3) Supercuts card. I never got enough cuts there to be awarded their most excellent bonus cut.

4) My Beautiful Men's Club card, created around 199x.

7 Days of Christmas: Day Three

This one's not too hard. Kind of creepy, though, in a mugshot sort of way.

7 Days of Christmas: Day Two

Sorry this took so long to get up. This isn't a very old game, but I think some of you guys will get it.

7 Days of Christmas: Day One

Okay, here's how this works: The JLR is your very own advent calendar for the next seven days, and this is your first special rad treat. Behind each daily door lies some crappy video game art by me (I am drawing a new one each day, of course). They will start off simple, and get progressively more obscure. The first person to name the pictured game each day wins cash & prizes!

Did I mention the cash and prizes? Well, actually, there are only prizes, but they are some doozies. Each daily winner will receive a personalized drawing of them meeting Slamm Dunk! It will be posted here whenever I finish drawing it.

Now, open the first door!

Epic Run DMC Live-Post

12:15 - This is a big moment in live internet blogging. I am about to pop on Run DMC's Tougher than Leather for the first time in a digital format. Until today (thanks, John), I've been stuck with a poorly dubbed cassette of the album, one that was brought aboard the tape decks of friends' cars in high school like a weary traveller exchanging gold for passage through a stormy current.

12:20 - Insane. I feel like I'm riding around in a dumpy '89 Volvo right now. I'm going to go get a Pepsi®.

12:28 - Some minutes passed. "Mary, Mary" was in there but, as many of you know, it defies the reach of my niggling words. I can't really vouch for the accuracy of these time stamps!

Jesus, "Radio Station" is nuts. What if this came out right now? I wish more mainstream rappers would distort their samples and repeat the same words over and over again like "Radio Station - DEP Ra-Ra-Radio Statio -DEP DEP DEP."

AM/FM MUSIC MODULATION.

12:31 - I'll admit it, I'm waiting for "Papa Crazy" to come on with bated breath. That shit is bananas.

12:32 - PAPA... PAPA CRAZY. "Papa don't give a damn, or say thank you ma'am!" I just want to transcribe all of the lyrics here. Screw it, here they are. No one raps like this any more! Stuff like this and school and hard tests that you get B's on are things more rappers should come back to. Holla 'bout yo' grades, son.

12:35 - Papa still crazy. I'd bet my month's earnings (US$5) that the beat rolls on for at least a minute after the hook ends.

12: 36 - Yep.

12:39 - The title track is pretty good, but there are better songs here. While I think it's funny, I was never a huge fan of the shreddin' guitars/rap combo. I know that was a major Run DMC thing, but I like the beats that go *plink plink doop doop* better.

12:41 - "Out out out-out (like that, out like) out out-out (like that!)" I'm not that into this one. I keep thinking about my Pepsi®. It's not very cold anymore. I should get a job.

12:45 - There is so much bell in "How'd Ya Do It Dee."

Damn, 7 tracks after this one, and those are all loaded as hell ("Christmas in Hollis," "Beats to the Rhyme," etc.) and have a lot of lyrics about homework and stuff, so I might have to split this in half.

Look for the second half of this story on these very pages! To be continued...

Coffee Beans

I'll let you guys wake up to Christopher Lee and Rhapsody this morning. Umair forced its wrath upon me a couple of times, and I keep watching it, because it is very extremely hard to turn away.



Real, actual, tangible updates to follow.

I Can't Eat That Now!

Peep Kiefer Sutherland's Japanese 24 Calorie Mate ads. I'm not sure how old they are, and I'm not sure I care.

This one might be the best.

Assault Heroes came out on Xbox Live Arcade yesterday. It's another original title, so it's not an arcade retread with slightly updated graphics or anything. I've been wary of the originals, though. Small Arms was like Smash Bros. but not fun, and Roboblitz, despite having the words Robo and Blitz in close proximity of one another, was boring.

This game is rad, though. It's like a third-dimension combination of Ikari Warriors and Jackal. The screen scrolls as you drive haphazardly in your ATV, disintegrating everything in sight; fighting suicide bombers that scream Indian battle cries and leaving your vehicle to learn how to be a man on the ground.

I personally can't wait to see what happens when the homebrew Live Arcade kits are released. Truly it could, and probably will, be a flood of crap the likes of which we've never imagined. Then again, there's also bound to be some smart motherfuckers like Jenova Chen and Nicholas Clark waiting to pounce on this opportunity.

Episode 113: Race to the Explosion! Monsters Grand Prix versus Hattori Highrise - Graceful Champions!

I'm a frequenter of the gas station by my house, mostly because it's seriously a couple of blocks away, tops. It has the same kind of essence to it as the diner at the end of Spaceballs and it's convenient for quick-notice beer, fountain soda, and crusty early morning coffee trips.

Anyway, there's this guy that works there; big, obese dude with a soprano voice [drawing provided for reference]. He always seems kind of grumbly and upset with himself for being who he is. With that said, I shouldn't have been surprised at all last night when I outed his true burning otaku nature.

My first mistake was wearing a Kikaida shirt, the Super7 T with the Ishinomori-style comic art on it. The place was empty, so it was safe for him to molt his shell like Hino's Bug Boy. Next thing I know, I'm hearing about how he doesn't have cable, but he can take his VCR to his mom's on Saturdays to record Adult Swim anime until the tape spools out.

There's a point to this story; an exclamation point, if you will. After lamenting the long wait between new episodes of Inu-Yasha, he looked at me and shook his head.

"Haven't you figured out who I am yet?"

Then his eyes unexpectedly turned a bright amber hue and his nose flared like an angry savage. He grabbed me by my collar and shook me violently, screaming, "I'm YOU! I'M YOU!" It was like a bad issue of Slamm Dunk but exclusively with white people.

Kenshiro no Daiyogen

Is he right, folks?

My Life Story in 8 Stages

Wide-eyed hope has been mashed and puréed into cold disappointment, and I think I've come to terms with the fact that Nintendo is not going to respond to my most excellent query (see post #107 - Ed).

Despite the new abrasive relationship I've developed with the company, I still went out and paid cold, hard store credit for a copy of Castlevania: Portrait of Ruin. At 677.3% progress (what the hell does that even mean?), I'd say it's on its way to replacing Aria of Sorrow as my favorite of the portable games. So well-grounded is my dedication that, when prompted to doodle an icon for my file with the stylus, I resisted, with a rigid brow and the sternest of looks, man's instinctive duty to draw a penis.


Now, at age 25, I still find myself cursing aloud bastards of evolution and science like Frankenstein['s Monster] and Medusa, just as I imagine our forefathers did many years ago. I guess I've been killing things with whips for twenty years now, so I should be pretty adept.

(Pictured: Me, going to Pat's house circa 199x)

Apocalypto

A review by joseph luster - class of 2016

I liked Apocalypto. It was a neat movie that you should see. It had some violence but is not as gorey as people will tell you it is (tho there is a part with a jagwire that is cool). Mel Gibson is not in it, but he should be. There are lots of colors in the movie, but most of them are the mayan people's bodies.

I would give it a few stars!

5.5 Min. Hallway

Read Kotaku's coverage of the release of one of the only games that can save the 360 in Japan, Blue Dragon. It's a nice follow-up to last year's photo blog about Microsoft's abysmal Jappernese reception.

What the Xbox apparently needs is a really shitty Gundam game!

Nugget's Dream

Some of you may know of the mythical beast "Nugget," also known as Patrick G. Sanders. He's a veritable phenomenon, and has been featured in his own comic serial and myspace page.

Naturally, I hate him!

But still, I have always longed to figure him out; delve deep into his psyche and pull out all of the parts that are stupid or don't work. Scintillating auteur Dave Deutsch beat me to it. His video, aptly titled "Nugget's Dream," takes us on a journey through the cobweb-littered hallways of our anti-hero's mind. Please enjoy it with me.

Blas(s)t Proce(a)ssing

I'm disappointed in Nintendo at the moment. I sent them a very enthusiastic email the other day regarding their new Wii console. The letter reads as follows:

Hi!
I have seen your new system in Nintendo Power, and I have some question(s). The most recent game I have played of yours is Zelda 2, which is neat. Are you making any games that are as fun as that one? How long until they are out and what are their names? My favorite good guy so far is Link, but my favorite bad guy is still Mouser.

Sincerely,
Joseph "Jammin' Joey" Luster

For days, I anxiously awaited a response to this. Although I thought I knew the answer to my query deep down inside, I began to second guess myself. Are they making any games as fun as that one? What are their names? What started as something silly was evolving into a deadly serious affair. Notes lie scattered about my room; some are tacked to walls, but most of them are spread haphazardly everywhere else.

Then Nintendo replied. No, you know what? An automaton replied. I'm beside myself at this point, more vexed than angry. Their stiff, robotic solution to my problem was to provide a link to the very page from which I got their email address! Back in my younger days, these questions were Nintendo's very foundation. If I wasn't so strung out over this whole thing, I'd probably be pissed. Luckily, their cold response stated that I could reply to the message if my question remained unanswered. Well, bad sirs, it does.

Hello again, "Super" Nintendo!

A few days ago, I sent an email to you dudes (I attached it after this). Anyway, I searched the link you gave me, but I didn't really feel like I could answer my question with all of that info! As they say in your TV games, "Try Again?" Haha.

Thank you!

P.S. Does Sega still say all those lies about "Blast Processing"? Sonic isn't really that good and Mario is much cooler. I always have thought, NintenDOES what SegDON'T!

I'll keep you guys up-to-the-minute on this one.

OK, Let's Stand Up

Hello. It is the 106th entry on the 6th day of your Earth calendar's month of December. I'm here, in typically grizzly fashion, to let loose a few breaths of import into the brisk air of the internet.

First off, I have to say that I'm pretty taken by Google Reader, and in a month's time I will surely make a similar post in which I cite it as indispensable. I often forget to check a huge chunk of sites that I would otherwise like to keep up with, and lumping them all on one page is sort of like internet Christmas to me. I wouldn't doubt it if you told me I was months and months behind on this phenomenon, and I would still be in the dark if I hadn't checked Site Meter and noticed that Reader was used as a means of viewing this very blog.

Unless I am mistaken, this should be a portal through which you can inspect it.

Now for something even more crucial: this past Tuesday's release of Project Pat's post-jail epic, Crook by da Book: The Fed Story. After the intro, which follows one of his adversaries during their jarring realization that Pat has, indeed, been released from prison and plans to exact revenge on the snitches that have wronged him, we segue immediately into the feverishly paced "I Ain't Goin' Back to Jail." From there, it's an intense ride through many fully-realized worlds, including but not limited to the claustrophobic "Tell Tell Tell (Stop Snitchin')" and the jubilant anthem "Good Googly Moogly."

I could go on, but unless specifically requested to do so, I'll stop here. If anyone would like a copy of this ground-breaking album, contact me. However, I will forever deny any consequent legal ramifications because, like Mr. Pat, "I ain't goin' back to jail."

[yoo roo dee-∂] 2.0

If you watched today's UL x UConn game on television then congratulations, your perception of what happened was completely blinded by The Great White Conspirators™. Though the final score remains the same no matter what vantage point you had, the ultimate catalyst for the Cardinals' victory was something deemed unfit, even "too awesome," for Tee Vee.

It was a mixture of catastrophe and celebration; of destruction and dancing. After catching a 23-yard pass, Louisville's Mario Urrutia found himself uncharacteristically distracted. Someone, in an effort to sabotage the home team, had turned on the "Thornton's Boogie Cam" right in the middle of a play!

As if enraptured by an invisible Siren, Urrutia (pictured right) drifted toward the base of the jumbotron, far away from his touchdown destination. A candid half-time locker room conversation attempts to illuminate the situation.

"Why they turn on 'da Boogie Cam while we play?" Mario pleaded in a sotto voice.
"I don't know, Mario, I just. Don't. Know."

Mario was crippled, more mentally and emotionally than physically. During a TV timeout, I found myself behind the bench in a similar predicament, staring at the Boogie Cam like a dunce. There were so many people dancing; some were even doing the Tootsie Roll both "to the right" and "to the left."

Then I heard it.

"Hey boi," was what it sounded like. It was coming from Louisville's head coach, Bobby Petrino. Perhaps more disconcerting than the fact that he was apparently addressing me, was that I instantly picked up on the peculiar intonation in his speech, and I was positive that it was specifically b-o-i and not b-o-y. It's just something I've always been able to do.

To make a long story short, he tossed me a helmet, I went out on the field, blacked out, and woke up in the locker room after we won, surrounded by ding dongs!

Bonus Choose-Your-Own-Adventure: Read the last sentence with a question mark at the end and it's even more exciting!

Mail Bag

Today is Friday, December 1st, and you all know what that means…

Mail Day! However, since we didn't receive any letters this year, here are some from a 1989 Nintendo Power: