I came across this on an old DVD-R and thought I'd post it for posterity. A spot by Joe Osborn, who not only shot it but also did a bang up job creating the jail set from scratch. As much as it looks like it's out of the Kentucky Fried Movie, this was an actual TV commercial that aired locally in Utah.
This looks... interesting.
Rpg-project_0.64a_shot58
Need something to fill the hole that World of Warcraft left? Play the RPG you can't stop playing: UTAH. It's a fantasy epic where weapons and ignorance are welcome as long as they are accompanied by a church membership.
Earn gold by executing quests (called "jobs"). Use your gold to buy castles, pets, weapons, and even attract a mate. Sacrifice part of your gold and in return, you'll receive "mana" to cast spells on enemies, such as "smugness blizzard" and "righteous inferno".
Ensure continuation of the kingdom by spawning as many times as your wife/wives will allow. Creating spawn is one of the most important, if not the most important goal in the game. You'll need protect your spawn and castle from foreign invaders by any means necessary, because you never know who's out to get you. You can even encode your spawn with rules of conformity and capitalism and they will act as loyal servants throughout the game (this game teaches programming too).
PvP is not tolerated, but thankfully godless heathens are not considered players.
There will be many obstacles in your way. The black arts of science , reason, and philosophy will attempt to derail your quest many times. But prove yourself worthy and you will inherit your own planet in the end.
Do you have what it takes to survive UTAH?
(Sadly, my character in this game has not leveled up for years. I think I'm playing it wrong.)
Stanley Sidway sat at the bar and slid his half empty glass of rum and Coke back and forth between his thumb and index finger. Right, left. Right, left. It was a nervous tick; a coping mechanism. The repetition of it soothed him, almost into a state of self-hypnosis. He wondered how long he would have to sit here fidgeting with this glass until he wore a trench in the wood. Ten years? The veneer would probably take at least ten. A hundred years? A hundred years, now that's a commitment, thought Stanley. Commitment, as it turned out, was not one of Stanley’s strong points.
He tried to look casual and unaffected, but it betrayed his feeling of raw disappointment. A disappointment slightly buffered by the buzz of his three rums and Coke.
“You good, Hon?” the bartender said. Stanley emerged from his haze.
She’s good at this, he thought. The buzz he had was not bad; a nice warm purr that mostly kept the existential dread in his periphery, instead of hurtling toward him head on. But he knew this was the scene of another failure and wanted out. He was slightly distracted by the diamond stud in her upper lip as it shimmered in the light but fought off the urge to gaze too long.
“Yes. Thank you,” Stanley replied.
She gave him a smile and wandered further down the bar. Stanley swiveled his stool to the right and glanced at the TV across the room. A soccer match droned on. He feigned interest in the game. But after a few moments, he lowered his eye line slightly, down from the TV, just enough to observe a woman in her early thirties, blue highlights in her hair, sitting in a booth across the room with another man. 20 minutes ago, she had sat on the stool next to Stanley.
Her name was September (or at least that's what her online dating profile said). She was the fit, earthy type who smoked weed and had dreams of being a sculptor, although she currently worked collections at a call center. Her eyes were a grayish blue, her voice sultry.
The man in the booth leaned in slowly and kissed September on the mouth. Stanley began to grit his teeth. It soon became clear that the man in the booth was her type, and Stanley...well, Stanley was not.
What makes this guy so goddamn irresistible? His excessive facial hair? The fact that he oozes bohemian charm from every pore? Maybe it doesn't even matter, thought Stanley.
September lit up when the man talked. Her smile was wide and her eyes focused on his every move. He wore his ponytail and beard with a sense of confidence Stanley had never experienced in his life.
Stanley rubbed his minimal stubble and then swiveled his stool back to facing the bar. He caught the pasty white reflection of his face in the mirror and immediately threw his gaze back to the glass in front of him.
He was unable to recall exactly what had transpired during his date with September before she got up and left. The three beers might have had something to do with it. Only fragments came to him now, but they were educational. He did remember the "urgent" texts she had to answer immediately, and how she started to pivot away from him in her stool every so slightly, and how her interest in the soccer game on TV increased with every second.
It was a mismatch, like many dates before. A scenario that was becoming very familiar. There was no specific type of woman that predicted these failures. They spanned all types and ages. The only common thread was their lack of interest in Stanley.
The hipster girls found him too drab. The hippie chicks thought he was too cynical. He was too corrupted for the Mormons and too agnostic for the atheists. The outdoor types thought he was too weak, and the shut-ins found him too restless. The normals thought he was too kinky and the deviants found him too boring. No matter how many times he rolled the dice, no matter what combination, he knew what the outcome would be.
"Fuck it," Stanley muttered as he knocked back the remaining rum and Coke with a grimace. Taking the last bill from his wallet, a worn, faded five with the lower right corner missing, he placed it under the empty glass. He stole another look at the woman with the blue hair, just enough to see her face filled with a school-girlish glee, and walked out into the night.
2014 © Eric Jolley
This upcoming release from WB Games looks intriguing. Mirror's Edge plus Dead Island = Dying Light? These trailers highlight Parkour combat against ultra fast super zombies.
One day, I'll direct professional actors. One day, I'll have a budget for talent and crew.
One day, I'll work on something I'm really passionate about and believe in and I'll even get paid for it.
One day may never come but the possibility keeps me going all those other days.
I've loved Cliff Martinez's work ever since I saw Sex, Lies and Videotape. Soderbergh has collaborated with him several times throughout the years but of all the projects they've worked on, I think his soundtrack to The Knick is the most unexpected.
The Knick takes place in the early 1900's so it's the last place you'd expect to hear fat synthesizers drones. I'm sure some people hate it but I think it's a perfect choice for this unconventional period piece.
I was in line at Subway today behind this guy in desert camo and a pistol on his hip. He was a cop, I guess? Anyway his T-shirt said "Some people kill zombies and some people feed them, which one do you want to be?" First thought was: that's way too much text for a T-shirt. Second: WTF does it mean? I'm assuming it's referring to a zombie apocalypse and how he'd be ok because he had a gun. Or he has a zero tolerance policy for people on bath salts. Really I don't know. Utah is weird.
As much as it fills me with dread, summer is apparently over. It is September, after all. And as the season has ended, so have other things as well. One thing I learned this summer (rather painfully) is to never take human relationships for granted. The universe sees that as an opportunity to smack you in the face.
Like assuming a friendship will last forever. Or a romantic relationship. Or sexual relationship. They're all about as reliable and solid as a castle made of Jenga blocks. One false move of arrogance or neglect and the whole thing collapses.
Several of my castles have collapsed, so I know first hand. Maybe I'll just spend some time away from the Jenga blocks. Or maybe it was just those Jenga blocks that were the problem. Maybe if I try a new set, it'll be different. Yeah... maybe.
I'm really enjoying Wolfenstein: The New Order from Bethesda.
This is an honest attempt by Swedish developer MachineGames to reboot the series but keep intact the twitchy gameplay of id's original game (Wolfenstein 3D), along with its implausible protagonist, "B.J." Blazkowicz.
They've fleshed out the story and the characters (at least as fleshy as an Indiana Jones movie). It's got an actual plot that involves an alternative 1960's where the Nazi's won World War II.
New Order is an unabashedly adult title, oozing a Grindhouse corniness along with gratuitous sex and violence. And the gameplay is fluid like no modern FPS has been before. The enemies move fast, stumble, slide, and make spectacular falls just like movie stuntmen.
The New Order skates on the razors edge of taking itself too seriously and being a parody but it's super fun to play.
The sparks were made in desperation, with shaking hands from wet flint, in a dark patch of a black forest where a beast with four legs stalked a beast with two.
The beast with two legs never thought itself food. It couldn't be. Because it had words and smarts and love.
But the smarts, like the sparks disappeared in the darkness. The words evaporated; just noise and breath like all the beasts make. And the love? Not kindness nor loyalty nor sacrifice mean anything to the dripping teeth.
Hunger trumps all.
2014 © Eric Jolley
After several months of tinkering, I've decided to release my home brewed creation to the public. dropFFish is a GUI and set of presets for the open source transcoder, FFmpeg. I've used it on an almost daily basis for almost a year now, refining here and there. It's far from perfect, but if you need to a Mac app to convert video, check it out.