Things I brought Back From Mozambique.

I've worked in Mozambique on and off since 2006. The longest stint I've pulled in that country was a two and a half year contract where I would go home every two months for 5 days leave. These contracts are literally in the middle of nowhere and three hours from the nearest "Town" to use the word loosely.

There's not much to do in the bush once you've finished work. You go through a lot of movies, games and series, but besides that, there's not much else to do other than taking a walk around. Even walking around is limited, because of the dangerous snakes that inhabit the region and, y'know...the whole thing about landmines being everywhere off the beaten path. 

Having grown up catching snakes, legavaans and all other manner of creatures, I wasn't too deterred by the wildlife and would take regular walks in the afternoons. You get to see the place in a different light when you're out there alone, and I've seen some things that put such a huge contrast on my life and left me with a slightly different outlook. 

You honestly don't know how good you have it until you witness true hardship for yourself. This is a country, ravaged by war and corruption, with very little infrastructure to 60% of the population. The result is a populace of impoverished, uneducated masses with absolutely zero job prospects or any kind of future with room for growth. Yet the small villages you see out here, 3 hours from anywhere, have more sense of community than I have ever seen. 

We laid down 46km of 32" carbon steel piping, going from a manifold that receives gas from well-heads around the region to a CPF. It's not as simple to do with large-bore piping as it is with small-bore, so the trick is to plan ahead. Trenching team is a week ahead of the mechanical crew, digging a huge trench for the piping to snaked into once welded. Snaking is a process where the 6m sections of pipe are welded above ground in 32m lengths (2 x double-ended) and is gradually dragged into the trench by the weight of the pipe welded itself. Think of it as zipping up a giant zipper. Sort of. Okay, not really. 

The pipes (which come in 6m lenghts) had to be brought in ahead of the mechanical (welding) crew, so there would be no delay in welding while waiting for piping. These guys worked alongside the trenching crew, laying down batches of pipes as they dug the trench. These lengths of pipe come with giant end-caps on them to prevent foreign objects from entering the piping and ultimately being welded inside. The end caps are basically giant plastic lids that go on the ends of this piping, sort of like the plastic lid you would find on the lid of an instant coffee can. 

A peculiar thing happened during this process. We noticed that by the time the mechanical crew reached new batches of piping, there would be no end-caps on the pipes any more. Every single cap was missing and we were perplexed as to where they went. 

It was only on a late afternoon walk some time later that I discovered where the end-caps went, and only by coincidence. I would some times take my guitar on a walk and find a nice place to sit, smoke a joint and play guitar without worrying about bothering my neighbors in the congested camp. I sat on a section of pipe and began playing. It must have been about 20mins of playing before I noticed two kids come out of the bush. Like, literally appeared out of the bushes like children of the corn. They came and sat by me while I played and seemed to enjoy the music. After a song or two, the eldest of the boys grabbed my arm and told me to follow him,

We went through the section of the bush where they came from and after some walking, ended up by their homestead, which consisted of 4 or 5 huts in a circular "kraal" fashion. They had a few goats and chickens, but what drew my eyes the most was the plate full of fish that was left out in the sun to dry. Only, it wasn't a dish, but one of our end-caps. The kids rushed excitedly into the huts and called their siblings and parents and I sat there for about an hour playing guitar for the family. They gave me a type of  local beer made from baobab that was extremely bitter and chunky and offered me what little they had before I made my way back. 

The following day, I told one of our local laborers about the end-cap and he started laughing at my story. Turns out that the kids go out in the late evenings and collect all the end-caps from the piping and distribute them to every rural "village" in the area. They use the end-caps for a number of different things, from carrying water, to using them as plates and trays. They would put the end-caps over steel drums and make rudimentary drums for music, or children would fashion a wheel-like-toy out of them and have races. It was like a scene from The Gods Must Be Crazy, because something so trivial for us wound up being such a versatile and useful item to them. 

What stuck out to me the most was not their ingenious use of the caps, but rather of their hospitality towards me. By our standards, these people had nothing. Their clothes were worn and tattered and must have been handed down often. Out of the family of 6 or 7, I'd be pressed to find two pairs of shoes between them, if that. Some goats and chickens consisted of their livestock and besides that, they lived off the land. However, they showed no hesitation in offering me what little they had and making me, a total stranger by all definitions, feel welcomed into their home. 

Thinking about it made me realize that it's very unlikely that something like that will happen at home. How often will you invite a stranger to your home? To eat your food and be around your family and young children? We live in a society where it's encouraged to be wary of strangers out of fear. Fear that they may take what or who you love away from you. 

It's sad that we have so much and give so little, yet these people with little-to-nothing can give so much. 

Inexception.

I think I'm a broken person...or even worse, possibly turning into a movie hipster. I realized this the other night when watching Inception for what must be the millionth time. This movie was critically-acclaimed and highly praised by both the public and critics for its cinematography and execution of new concepts...and I have grown to hate it.

This usually happens to me when I watch something after the hype-train has come and gone at the station. I never caught Inception when it was doing its cinema run, and only managed to view it about a month after it came out on DVD. By that point, message boards everywhere were already on 100% circlejerk mode over the movie and the internet was rife with memes and references that I didn't understand. 

That said, I went into the movie with a pocket-full of expectations based on what others were saying. Posts describing  the movie as being "So deep" and "Really game-changing" set the bar pretty high for me and my initial viewing of the film left me with a gaping hole in my heart that was supposed to be filled with intrigue and wonder, but instead remained a disappointing abyss of dashed-hopes. 

However, it's one of those movies best enjoyed on the second or third viewing and I watched it a few times more some time later in the hopes of seeing what others did in the film. I found that in order to enjoy the movie, I had to detract myself from any "deep meaning" premise and see it as a normal heist movie instead, which it does an okay job of being.

You see, the movie is about as deep as a copy of Playboy and anybody that tries to convince you otherwise is just basking in their own pretentious glory of understanding the basic concept that is constantly being explained to you in the movie via hand-holding narrative. Leaving a cliffhanger ending does not a "deep" movie make, and that's exactly what Inception did. "Did the top stop spinning? Is he still in the dream? The top was not even his totem, it was his wife's!" I can't believe that I got so much shit from people saying that I read too far into Prometheus, when Inception is perfectly acceptable with its ambiguity and lack of closure. 

The characters themselves have very little growth in the film as well, other than Cobb. His internal struggle of guilt and mourning is the only character development that you see in the movie and even that was loosely done before in What Dreams May Come. Strip all the heist-related content from the movie and you're left with an average-at-best love story that wouldn't even get the light of day in normal circumstances. 

I realized that what seems to have captured the audience was not the content, but the delivery. Its presentation and score was so on point, that you can't help feel drawn into the film, regardless of the content. The visual effects and character representation were what I can only describe as elegant. It was so elegantly presented that it formed a connection in the viewer of quality, like a penguin with a tuxedo on. It was pure cinematic inception, to throw the pun around.

Perhaps I'm missing something and I'm wrong. I'm not any kind of authority on films and cinema, so obviously take my words with a pinch of salt. However, from my experience, it's one of those movies that just deteriorates my expectations of it with every subsequent viewing. I respect the film and Nolan for it, because in terms of cinematography and soundwork, it's incredible. Even dialogue delivery is suspenseful and it really shines as an example of talented film-making. 

But as a story? It doesn't really speak to me, which is sad, because I was listening before I even watched the movie. 

Souls 101: Lords of the Fallen

I never really got into the "Souls" games, which is weird because I'm a sucker for challenging RPGs. The game felt purposefully gimped in an effort to equate difficulty to enjoyment and I struggled to force myself to like it. In retrospect, it's sad to have to force yourself to like any game, but I figured that the problem lies with my expectations as the games are incredibly popular among those who committed their time to them. 

Heck, I don't even know what the fuck Dark Souls is about and I've played it for a solid 9 hours as it is. I think part of the allure to these games is that they're not so much about a progressive story, but instead try to focus more on intricate gameplay to capture the player. The only thing I can recall about Dark Soul's story is something about "Praise the Sun", and I only know this because of the abundance of messages that other players have left saying so. 

That said, I did give the games a fair chance and they didn't gel well with me. God forbid you tell this to other Souls fans, because implying that you don't enjoy the game is like outright insulting them. 

Don't get me wrong, I have an immense amount of respect and appreciation of the games (Genre? Are they their own genre?), but in the end I feel like I have to submit to the good ol' "It's not you; it's me." breakup argument to distance myself. It is me, and perhaps I'm just too casual for the games. Maybe I need to start somewhere easier and work my way up, so I can truly appreciate the Souls games. 

Enter Lords of the Fallen. 

Word on the street is that Lords of the Fallen is like Dark Souls Lite, so it seemed perfect as an introductory course into this genre. Figured I'd knock this sucker out in a weekend and have the opportunity to dig into Dark Souls before Bloodborne released, but the word on the street was wrong and I underestimated the extent of my ability to suck at these games. 

After a very aesthetically pleasing cinematic, the game thrusts you into this dark, merciless world. A short tutorial fight gets you to grips with the controls and fight mechanics, and that's it. You're on your own now, son! Time to go exploring this...what are we in, a church? Let us go explore this church and kill some...things! 

So, off we go, into corridors and passageways filled all manner of dangerous beasties and monsters that wish to dine on my bones. Dimly lit settings and ambient sounds straight out of the Grapefruit Lady video sets the stage for my first foray into this unforgiving environment. 

And it wasn't so bad...at first. The first few mobs, while packing a vicious punch, seemed to go down pretty easily. Block here, swing my sword on the parry, it all seemed to be going surprisingly well and confidence in my abilities grew exponentially by the sword-stroke. I still felt rather weak, but I figured that once the stats started rolling in, I would mature into a formidable demon-slaying force.  

The first boss fight (Fittingly named The First Warden) was a walk in the park. Well, not really a walk in the park since I died three times to him, but once I learned his mechanics the fight became rather trivial. The First Warden was a knight, twice the size of me, wielding a massive, flaming sword and shield, as well as being covered head-to-toe in armor. I originally just Leroy Jenkin'd my way into the fight and attempted to defeat him in an old fashion bout of fisticuffs, but soon learned that this tactic was futile. The trick was to just...roll. Just fucking roll out of range of his attacks and then counter with light attacks. At 50% HP he does a spinning attack, which does a ton of damage if you get caught in it, so the trick here is...roll. Just roll the fuck away and hit him when he stops. After figuring this out, I rolled my way to victory and came out on top with a shiny new sword for additional monster-slaying potency.

It's after the first boss when things started to get...errr...rough. I was introduced to a new type of mob, which was basically a smaller version of the last boss. These guys hit hard and blocked harder than a nun chaperoning a high school dance. My new sword had seemingly no effect on their attacks and I had to change my playstyle to accommodate this new adversary. I learned that the best tactic for these guys was to block and parry their attacks. This method of blocking and soaking up some damage seemed to become the most recurring tactic in the game, but it's not universal. 

About three hours in and I've died more times than I'd like to admit at this point. I just felt so...weak. I mean, with all this experience I'm getting, I should be scaling equally with the mobs, but instead I feel like skinny kid trying to beat up the rugby jocks. Checking my character development screen, I see that I have 8000 experience points on me...but have not gained a single stat. I should have leveled up by now, why haven't I gotten any points yet? 

Turns out that I need to "Bank" my experience points at checkpoint altars and that is how you level up your character. I've been running around this game for hours as a level 1 character, trying to beat shit on the next level. My Mrs. is laying on the couch next to me. I put the controller down and say "You know what, babe? I'm a fucking dumbass." She replies "I know baby." without knowing the context. My stupidity felt validated at this moment. 

With this new knowledge acquired, this horrendous world was at my fingertips. I sank my attributes into Strength, Vitality and Endurance and head off into the cold night. The once unsurpassable mobs became mere experience pinatas at the hand of my sword and shield. This shit was getting easier by the level. 

Or so I thought, because the next boss would rapidly bring this euphoric slaughter-fest to a halt.

Commander. Not "The Commander", but just "Commander" was the second boss I encountered, and it made me wish I had invested just a tad bit more attribute points into Vitality. Commander, like, The First Warden is a behemoth knight, wielding the standard-issue knight set of gigantic fucking sword and shield. He's got a wide array of abilities, such as shooting a shield-blast and stomping the ground, rendering you stunned for a short duration. However, the most challenging aspect of this boss for me was the adds. At quarterly health intervals, Commander would just hermit up in his shield and gain an invulnerability buff while simultaneously calling adds. I really struggled with the adds, but through trial and error, eventually beat Commander and his minions. Rolling helps in this fight, as with most other fights.

It was after beating Commander that I learned the appeal of these type of games. Being a recovering World of Warcraft player that was actively involved in competitive raiding, I got the same gratifying feeling in downing a troublesome boss that I did when I was raiding in WoW. It's the sense of achievement earned through perseverance and frustration. I even started approaching boss encounters like WoW, where if you started off on the wrong foot, it's better to wipe and try the fight again. 

With this new mentality, the game's dynamics changed for me. It became all about the end-game and all these corridors and passageways filled with monsters just became a means to gain experience which I would use to maximize my stats for the next boss fight. I had entered the WoW meta-game and from here, it's a slippery slope between casually playing this game and it becoming a full blown obsession. 

I started dying purposefully during fights just so I could run the area again for experience. Once I figured out the mechanics to each different mob type, it was just a matter of speed-running the area so I can bank all that XP. It's like Groundhog Day, but for mobs and experience. 

All that said, this newly-developed, repetitive mindset didn't dull the game's enjoyment in the least. Boss fights are still challenging and there's a certain magic in figuring out the mechanics of a fight in increments, until you're confident to the point where you tell yourself "I got this fucker next fight".

I'm now 7 bosses in or so and I can't wait to see what the next fight will be. I've accepted that these type of games take out the "Role Playing" out of RPG, because it's not so much a test of your character's abilities in these fights, but more a test on your abilities as a player to endure through them. 

I can get used to this. I should play Dark Souls again. 

Don't Fear The Stargate Reboot

Director Ronald Emmerich and Producer Dean Devlin have more Stargate up their sleeves and according to the buzz, it will be a trilogy that holds true to the original film's direction.

While Stargate (1994) was extremely well received, the spinoff TV series (Stargate SG1 and Stargate: Atlantis) gathered more of an audience than the original tale ever did. The Stargate series veered off the known track laid down by the original film and expanded on the universe in new and imaginative ways. With a charismatic cast lead by Richard Dean Anderson, and a rich universe filled with endless possibilities and changes in setting, it's of no wonder why the show captivated as many hearts as it did. Myself included.

However, news of the reboot has left fans of the show less than enthusiastic about it. There is a growing concern among the Stargate fanbase that the movies will not follow the show's long-established canon and could dull what is otherwise an enjoyable and refined storyline, much like the Star Wars prequels did for die-hard fans.

It really is a delicate subject to touch on, but a consideration needs to be made that even though Stargate SG1 (and the less popular Stargate Atlantis) has formed a rather large fan-following, the shows themselves were not in line with the original direction of the Stargate film.

There were quite a few key differences between the film and the series, particularly the concept of the Goa'uld, which are the protagonists in the show, being a parasitic alien entity capable of fully controlling their host. In the film, it was left to mystery, but was rather strongly implied that Ra was a Grey. The show jumped this hurdle by creating a race called the Asgard, which bear a significant likeness to the Greys and using him as a vessel controlled by the Goa'uld. Other notable differences include the location of planets, symbol differences used on different Stargates and that in most universes, everyone speaks English, where the movie portrays evident language barriers.

As an avid Stargate fan, having enjoyed both the movies and the series, I accept these differences only on the premise that the film and the series should be looked at as completely different entities that share a common theme. As soon as we start tying the movie and the show together as progressive canon, the whole universe falls apart at the seams due to the difference in writing direction.

Popular opinions aside, I would love for Emmerich and Devlin to unearth Stargate's original intentions. The 1994 film had a magnificent sense of mystery and wonder to it that unraveled itself to the viewer in a way that left them yearning for more by the end of the film. It felt well-rounded and provided a sense of closure, while at the same time being vague enough to leave a slight hint of mystery in the viewer.

I'm remaining positive that the Stargate trilogy will return to its roots and give us another intriguing universe to explore, more new concepts and ideas to stir our minds and ultimately come out as a series of films that can stand alone and not be overshadowed by the show's success.

....and since it's Emmerich, I'd like to see some grand-scale destruction as well, while we're at it.