My Theoretical Existence

Writer, web designer and overall producer of wonders Santiago Méndez shares his lack of wisdom to the english-speaking world and talks of himself in the third person.

[screenshotsofdespair]

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Happy Totoro

September 2014.

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Omegle #1: Substance

Stranger: hmm, strange place indeed

You: It is

Stranger: just look at the ceiling...

Stranger: oh my god it's dripping some substance

Stranger: what IS that?

You: WOW

You: it is glowing...

Stranger: now that you mention it, it is!

You: spooky

Stranger: but what could it be?

Stranger: spooky? that's an adjective, not a noun!

Stranger: or is it a new substance called Spooky?

You: It is, haven't you heard?

Stranger: Ah ha! now I remember, this stuff is used to_________

You: turn turtles into mutants

Stranger: Egad! just look at those turtles over there!

You: They seem to be teenage and ninja!

Stranger: those are no ordinary turtles, they somehow have been taught the art of___________ by a ____________ for some reason!

You: cooking

You: iPhone app

Stranger: and they're completely technologically savvy!

You: it is marvelous

Stranger: I must document this

Stranger: what is it they're cooking?

Stranger: my sense of smell has been abused by decades of cocain

You: they are cooking puttanesca sauce

Stranger: But for what dish? this is truly perplexing.

Stranger: and Why are they doing it?

Stranger: mutants don't need food for sustenance

Stranger: so it has to be for some other, more sinister cause

You: that is nonsense, of course they need food

Stranger: nonsense, all they eat is pizza, which is degrading peasants fare

Stranger: hardly considered "food"

You: It is tasty

Stranger: *peasant's

Stranger: nonetheless, why are they doing it?

You: Because they can

Stranger: well, mystery solved

Stranger: The End

You: Credits roll

Stranger: job well done

Stranger: a nice impromptu story

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I thought I didn't have enough distractions already, so I started this silly Mario webcomic strip called Simple Mario. NOTE: It might be a short-lived project.

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Merry Christmas!

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I had this blog abandoned. But I will be posting some things I've come across that I really like. This one is a new song by Portishead. Such an excellent band.

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24 Hour Comic

I'm making a 24 page comic in 24 hours. Watch live as I loose my mind and start talking to imaginary people.

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...advertising is the price companies pay for being un-original.

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Futuristic School Garden (sound design)

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I'm a waitress, what the fuck are you?

Alexander Woo (screenplay), True Blood, Season 2: Episode 12

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Canabalt

How many meters can you run before hitting a wall and tumbling to your death? I often ask myself that when I'm looking out the window (as most people surely do). But It wasn't until I played Canabalt that I could tell for sure.

You start running, whether you want to or not you can't stop running, all you can do is jump and keep running, that's it. But oh boy, there is so much more than that. This is what videogames should all aspire to be, there is nothing that gets in the way of this incredibly straightforward gameplay (except for the damn obstacles that make you stumble). It's all about simplicity and subtlety here, the setting is a key factor in this game's success but also is the uncertainty of it. It suggests a story, it hints at it but it's up to you and your imagination to decide what's going on. It could either be an invasion or a war, aliens or robots or the Japanese finally taking on the world on giant mechas. Are you running for your life or are you running to save your loved one? Did you discover the enemy's weakness and have to alert the authorities but all communications have been cut off? Are you desperately trying to get to the ONLY remaining toilet in this apocalyptic future? It could be one of those or it could be all of the above and more, because you are going to be doing this no less than 14 times straight and every-time you could have a different reason to be running like hell. The terrain is randomly generated, which occasionally means a window or obstacle (or an effing bomb suddenly falling from the effing sky) slams your face, making it nearly impossible to sort it out. But the fact that the time between dying and start running again is only one button away is a genius and evil way to get issues like that one quickly off your head. Canabalt is (the Forrest Gump videogame) a beautiful thing, the ambience, the animations, the colors, everything. One thing I'd like to highlight is the wonderful sound design, again, it's all on the subtleties, the little footsteps (that change depending on the surface), the windows smashing, the slight swing of wings from the birds flying away, the subtle breathing, the cracking of the buildings, etc, etc. I would love if there would be an option to mute only the music (which is also quite good) and listen better to the sounds, but I guess in that regard it's just like a movie. Also, I would like to point out that the running character looks like Michael Jackson and a special 'moon-running' move would be in order.

I'm in love with Canabalt and it made me forget about my current nostalgia obsession. This is the kind of game that makes me think of the people who don't play games, and how miserable they would be if they knew what they are missing, because this truly is art. There is no goal other than running the farthest you can, it's a beautiful celebration of (mindless running and jumping) journey, (breaking through windows, ninja style) immediacy, (pidgeons) freedom and (effing bombs suddenly falling from the effing sky) death.

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Animation is not just for kids.

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From the beginning, I knew... that there's nothing wrong with you... that I can't fix... with my hands...

Frank Miller, The Dark Knight Returns, 1986.

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I conducted this interview a couple of months ago. It'll most likely make you happy.

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There was blood

It is quite hot here in Buenos Aires, despite the fact that is still winter (technically). I would like to go into that, but I only brought it up because it means mosquitoes are back. Today I killed two of them, with my technique of clapping them to death. The second one I splatted was full of blood and I was reminded of an issue I used to ponder about a lot. Where does that blood come from? that's the big question. And I like to imagine if it was maybe a neighbor, or perhaps it comes from someone farther away. Who might that person be? was he or she sleeping while the mosquito stole their blood? And then I also ask myself, if the mosquito is full of blood why is he coming for more? They are notoriously slow and clumsy when they are full, so why risk their lives for a tiny bit more? are they greedy bastards? do they have to feed their family? The kinds of things I ask myself on a weird summery winter.

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This makes me so proud of our journalists...