Things to do in Denver when you broke your hand...

... because you raged at Battlefield and beat on your controller, and now you can`t play games, so you need other stuff to do. Seriously, that crap happens to people.

So, yeah, this is another one of those posts where I will present you "books." Granted, they're mostly pretty cool books, but they all do require a certain amount of reading.

Don't be scared, now. It'll only hurt for a few hours... at first. Also, if "books" are too old-school, go and get them on your Kindle or Smartphone or Tablet. Yes. Books can be hip. Totally.

Alright, here we go:

The "Sandman-Slim" Series by Richard Kadrey

Richard Kadrey apparently wrote other stuff, too, but I don't know it. He also has his own Action Figure - make of that one what you will. The titular Hero of this series, Sandman Slim, is pretty much what you'd get if Harry Dresden was an outright lovable bastard. And Kadrey has had him take on Heaven, Hell, Zombies and everything in between that Los Angeles has to offer - and lots and lots of clothes - in by now 5 novels and a short-story (or maybe that'`s a "novella", who the hell knows?)

Eleven Years ago, James Stark, a fledgeling Magician (real, capital-M Magic, not that Party-for-Kids crap) is dragged into hell - still alive. It wasn't fun-times. Now, the girl he left behind in the world was murdered, and Stark has cut his way out of hell, hell-bent (Ha!) on continuing to cut his way through the people responsible for both the murder, and his eleven-year stint down-under.

That`s how the first book in the series, "Sandman Slim", starts. By the end of the first book, Stark has managed to kill some people, bitch-slap an angel, burn a pack of Neo-Nazi Skinheads and save the world. He also now lives with a severed talking head that walks around on a magical skateboard with legs. And things only get more fun from there.

Kadrey's writing is harsh, crude fun. It's smart, and (mostly) even makes an unexpected amount of sense. The "Sandman Slim" Universe is beautifully conceived, and continues to surprise with just how wonderfully, darkly funny it can be. Granted, the novels might seem a bit on the short side, but in those pages Shit Happens. Never a dull minute in super-natural LA.

"The Ocean at the End of the Lane" by Neil Gaiman

If you don't know Neil Gaiman... well, then you don't know him. There's nothing bad about that, and you should not be mocked because of it. But know now, that Gaiman is Magic. Those that haven't read his books (like American Gods, Anansi Boys, Good Omens or Coraline) or his comics (DC Vertigo`s "Sandman" Series), might actually have seen his work without knowing: "Stardust", starring Charlie Cox, Sienna Miller, Claire Danes and Robert DeNiro, a simply magical (and totally dude-can-watch-this-and-brag-about-it) romantic comedy. And it does a pretty good job of capturing Gaiman's unrivaled imagination, as well as the humor and wit of Gaiman's novel. The book is better, though.

His new book, "The Ocean at the End of the Lane", is somewhere between "Stand by Me" and "The Chronicles of Narnia". If the first one means nothing to you, despite a young "Ensign Wesley Crusher", a still alive River Phoenix, Corey Feldman ('nuff said), and a fat and ugly kid called Jerry O'Connell, you might be too young to fully appreciate the magic of this particular book. It's not your fault, and it might not particularly hamper your enjoyment of a fantastic read. And yet, for "The Ocean at the End of Lane" to do its magic, your childhood should be gone long enough to give you a chance to miss it - even if you only admit that to yourself.

Because that is what "The Ocean at the End of the Lane" is: a bit of childhood - terrifying, tantalizing, woeful, wondrous childhood...

When a death in the family drags our narrator back to his childhood town, a seemingly random turn in the road takes him down memory lane - literally. And what he remembers is a tale that couldn't have been - and yet it was. A tale of a man that killed himself in his father's car, and awoke an evil out of this world. A tale of a girl, her mother and her grandmother, that might have been his only friends, and were so much more. A tale of magic and dreams and fear and hurt and sacrifice. And about an Ocean that fit into a pond...

This is not a fairy-tale for children. It`s a tale of children and fairies and monsters for those of us that still remember how it was when all of it could have been real. And yes, fine, this one actually is quite short. But it won't feel that way.


Now, go buy these books. They're more than worth it. And who knows, maybe it'll help you pick up girls, or something. Show your sensitive side, and all that...

Things to do in Denver when your TV is dead...

Several days ago, my TV died. It was a quite emotional experience. Me and him, we had some good times. And I'm not only talking about the Porn. Granted, there was a lot of porn, and not all of it as classy as I'd like to admit. In fact, I remember that one clip with Paris Hil-

Well. Anyways. My TV had been with me for about 6 years, and now he was dead. His absence left a gaping hole in my life, and not the enticing kind of alluring orifice seen in that clip with Par-. You get the point. You see, my TV was also my Computer Monitor. He hung on a wall, which I admit might not sound like the most comfortable of positions, but it was by far my favorite position and he loved to indulge me, and thus could I entertain myself from and on the couch.

So, there I was, alone and disconnected from the world. As one of the two people in my personal realm without a smartphone - as I still cling to that quaint misconception that a cell phone must indeed not be more than a phone to validate its existence - the internet was henceforth out of reach. My Computer transformed into a mysterious mystery of enigmatic secrecy, whose workings I could not discern. And my beloved Xbox 360 transformed into a quite useless - not to mention clunky - paperweight. With the desperate need of input our generation professes to thrive on - but is secretly addicted to - I was forced to turn to other, less familiar means of entertainment. I read. As in "books".

I know how it sounds, but it's not that bad. It's actually quite good, once you remember how to turn pages without the help of a mouse button or keyboard. It's satisfying on a level some of us might have chosen long ago to lock up in a dark dungeon of their minds, hoping to starve it into oblivion.

So, in a moment of magnificent altruism, I decided to begin a small series of Things to do in Denver when you're TV is Dead, journeying for the first time beyond the familiar boundaries of constructive video game criticism, and recommend a surprisingly numerous items of literary brilliance that might very well enrich your lives. And don't worry. At least half of those books have pictures.

Powers

an ongoing Graphic Novel by Brian Michael Bendis and Michael Avon Oeming.

If you know comics, you know Brian Michael Bendis. One of the most polarizing writers of the last decade, and hailed for his reboot of the Marvel Universe via the Ultimate Marvel Line, he is undeniably one of the most influential creators of recent years.
"Powers" is Bendis's first off-mainstream book that garnered a lot of well-deserved attention. It's a witty and gritty take on the superhero comic, hard-boiled crime noir tales in a world of superhuman beings with all too human fallacies.

Superheroes and super-villains - "Powers" as they are called not always with affection - are still, for the most part, quite human, and accordingly prone to the same human flaws as the rest of us. They love and hate, laugh and cry. They f*ck. They kill. And every once in a while they get killed. It is at this point that Det. Christian Walker and Deena Pilgrim usually get involved. As members of the NYPD homicide squad responsible for powers-related crimes, the young, wise-cracking Pilgrim and her veteran partner Walker often find themselves in the unenviable position of investigating the deaths of beings many thought not capable of being killed at all. It's not half as easy as it sounds...

What can be said about Powers? It's an amazing ride. It's funny, touching, violent, sexy, smart, rude, gruesome, cruel and sad beyond what most people would think superhero comics to be capable of. Bendis' trademark wit and driven storytelling is complemented exceptionally well by Oeming's somewhat cartoonish drawing style. There are laughs and smiles, even a bit of wisdom, but people will die - some quite horribly so - and lives will be ruined. And once you start reading, you will find yourself quite surprisingly caring about that.

If you've never touched a comic before, Powers is a good way to start a bad habit. These are not the comic books of your youth, fraught with expository dialog and the inevitable triumph of Truth, Justice and the American Way. Powers reads like Quentin Tarantino's take on Superhero Comics, back in the days of Reservoir Dogs. It's not for the squeamish, and not for the dull or ADDed, but it will reward you with a quite unique experience.

A word of warning though: Trade-Paperbacks. Powers loves the double spread, and TPs don't do the double spread well. Strangely enough, nobody ever figured out that TPs basically swallow half a centimeter of page where in a regular comic the fold woud be, no matter if those millimeters might contain art or even text. As such, the early Powers TPs often lead to the frustrating guessing of cut-off dialog that was supposed to flow through the fold. It's a minor annoyance, but still present enough to be annoying. That said, it's another great reason to buy the Definitive Hardcover Collections, all of which contain between 10 and 12 of single issues, plus lots of extras. Volume 1 goes for around 25€, and is well worth the price.

Things NOT to expect here...

There are too many blogs. You should know. You're reading one right now, and not really for any obvious reasons, except maybe pathological boredom, insomnia, or a typo when looking for your favorite incestuous porn site - the last of which might be stretching it a bit, but we'll call that creative license. In fact, I plan on blithely brandishing that specific mulligan quite frequently to get me out of literal situations I have no one to blame for but myself.

So, what will you find here - or rather what will you not find here?

As already might be evident, a certain level of decorum will be markedly absent throughout this blog. Bland, boring and politically correct statements might occur, but not once will they be intentional, unless intentionally meant to mock you.
The main topic of these blogs will be video games in general, with a slightly more cynical and world-weary outlook than what the major VG news outlets might provide, but I will expand my purview should I see fit.
These blogs might not cover the newest releases of anything - unless I feel like it and can afford them - but I will tell the things I think need telling, whether anyone listens or not.
My choice of words may at times seem offensive, but only to people that lack the IQ necessary to understand the ironic, sarcastic and/or cynical genius at work here. Should you still feel offended, well, you probably deserve it, and I will welcome it as an unexpected bonus.

This is where it begins. Nobody knows where it might go...