Nerd post? Nerd post!

So, anyone who knows me knows I play a lot of Video Games. My last video game writeup on Modern Warfare 2 was pretty popular, which I'm pretty thankful for. During a discussion I had with a few friends, though, a little notion was thrown around. A few of my friends made the claim that Modern Warfare 2 was the most important game to come out in the past 4 years because of the No Russian mission and what it did for Video Games as a visual artform. Although I do credit Modern Warfare 2 for doing great things through a very uncomfortable moment, I think I have to look at different game that didn't get a lot of steam but is opening floodgates through it's cult following and ambitious premises.

Atlus's Shin Megami Tensei: Persona 4 came out in 2008 and is considered by many to be the last great PS2 game. Following Persona 3, which was controversial for requiring the main characters to shoot themselves in the head to summon monsters that fight for them, Persona 3 lightens the shock value but keeps the engaging turn-base RPG game play. It also boasts a very compelling story with a lot of twists and turns and a beastly soundtrack.

For the record, the uniform jacket they all have is SO fly. I wouldn't mind coppin one if it, y'know, wouldn't get me lynched for over-nerddom.

What sets this game apart and makes it so important to me isn't inside of it's base mechanics, it's some of the decisions that the writers and localizers made.

1) Keeping Japanese culture interwoven throughout the game instead of "Americanizing" it.
One of the first things you'll notice in the dialog is the honorifics attached to everyone's names. Every character has a "-senpai," "-kun," "-chan," etc. attached to their names which will be very unfamiliar to American players. Also, all health products, spell names, and cuisine retain their Japanese identities. What feels like another world to the player is actually normal life (besides monsters and gruesome murders) for the Japanese, which is long over due in American gaming.

American Gaming suffers from cultural imperialism. It likes to impose American culture onto Japanese games. To market it better to American audiences, most localizers will strip all things Japanese since most American gamers will claim they feel alienated from the game. Atlus refuses to do so in Persona 4, opting to immerse the gamer into Japanese culture and have them learn about it as well as complete a well crafted game. Not only does the gamer get the opportunity to learn abut Japanese school, home, dating, and holiday customs, they learn that in many aspects, life for the Japanese and the American are extremely similar. Even the game play retains it's original Japanese flavor by not nixing the date sim elements that make up about 50-60 percent of the game. Half the game is traditional turn-based RPG, the other half is based on building friendships with your classmates, family, and (if you chose to) significant others. Date sims are just not done in America, so including these Date Sim elements in such significant portions was a huge risk that, by critical standards, paid off.

2) Kanji Tatsumi and Naota Shirogane
Yes, I listed two characters. How can two characters be listed?
Sexuality isn't explored in video games, for real. You may have a stereotypically gay character in a game, but most stories tend to stick with a heterosexual cast. One of the reasons for this is for an ESRB rating. Homosexuality is the quickest way to get a M or a AO rating, which will completely limit (or diminish) sales. Why homosexuality automatically garners a M or an AO rating is beyond me (*cough*HOMOPHOBIA*cough*), but to have a gay character in a game and explore their sexuality is not done.

Kanji is a male who has stuggeled with his gender and sexual orientation since he was a little kid and, even after his own personal resolution and the friends he gains, he continues to question his sexual identity and his feelings for Naoto. Naoto, a female who id entifies as a boy, opens up another can of worms in relation to Kanji and as one of the only non-stereotypical depictions of a Transgerered Male in video games. Their relationship with each other, their friends and the main character open up a lot of veins for discussion on sexuality that video games never touch upon. It is also, easily, the most provocative thing in the game. It begs the question: What is the ESRB really screening for? Why can such beneficial and useful dialog be restricted to "M" or "AO" rated games? Why is it okay to brandish swords and guns in Teen rated games but the moment that homosexuality and transgendered identity is discussed it's too hot for regular store shelves? Not only does Persona 4 bring a video game spotlight on sexual identity and politics, but it puts the spotlight on the discriminatory practices of the ESRB.
(We, as conscious gamers, *snicker* should probably be a little more outraged at the ESRB for this and call on their redefinition of their rating system, but that's a blog post for another day)

Persona 4 is an amazing game, one that was a perfect capstone for the Playstation 2 gaming console. It's not just because it's an RPG that gives SquareEnix games (FFXII, where where you at?) a run for their money, but because it retains it's true identity even through translation and breaks barriers with ambitious characters and situations. In my eyes, it's easily the most important game in the past few years and any game that steps up and makes the next few steps in the movement for Video Game legitimacy will have Atlus and Persona 4 to thank.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

100/100

So, I'll preface this by saying that I had an exceptionally piss-poor day. Well, technically, it was yesterday, so there's no reason to fret anymore.


I got into a nice argument with a few of my students today. I asked them if it would be okay for them to be interviewed by a fellow student for a research project of theirs. What started a simple refusal immediately escalated into an interrogation of who I am as a person. I thought I'd address that here to bring myself some kind of peace of mind.

The question to me was : Am I a WashU nigga or a St. Louis nigga?

This is not an easy question to answer properly. Was I born and raised in St. Louis? Yes. Do I carry many qualities of the culture with me? Yes. Have I rejected certain aspects such as the accent? Yes. Do I attend WashU? Yes. Have I gone through the unique struggle that higher education brings? Yes. Have I rejected certain aspects of the WashU community? Yes

So the simple answer is "both," but it made me think.

One of my past students asked me about the St. Louis poem I wrote and performed at CUPSI. In it, there's the now-infamous "nigga" section. He asked how why there's such a fierce contrast between the celebration of St. Louis culture (both good and bad) and the indictment of the "other" that occurs in the second half. What I'm realizing is that is a direct reflection of many of the experiences that have at WashU where these two parts of myself are forced into direct conflict.

WashU fosters a fear of the St. Louis nigga. Its apparent in the safety precautions they feed to freshmen during orientation. It's evident in the e-mails they send about crime notices and the way that WUPD reacts towards the black population on campus. The only St. Louis nigga that most students HAVE to come in contact are the workers on campus. To add to that fostering of fear, WashU places limitations on how the workers can interact with students, even when they're off. For example, the open mics on campus are open to ANYONE who wants to spit, but we have been cited for allowing the workers to spit because "it creates an uncomfortable situation for students." Lord knows how uncomfortable it is to know that dude who gives you your food may have a shared interest.

I guess in a way to combat this as well as make themselves feel better, a lot of students reduce the St. Louis nigga to a charity case. This allows them to not seem like they're racist or classist while still exerting their dominance over the St. Louis nigga in a nicer way. (Even the wording we use to describe how we interact with the St. Louis community places us in a higher plane than the enigmatic St. Louis Nigga. More on that some other time.)

I've seen WashU as an institution do terrible things to my community. I've seen WashU students turn the St. Louis nigga into a joke, an animal, a lesser-being and justify it by using every Olin-library supported source they could find. I've seen people go into the neighborhoods of the people that disgust them and act like they have no right to call that place home.

I gained a loot of opportunities by coming to WashU. I met a lot of great people. I've had a lot of fun. I can't discount it, but I'd be lying if I didn't say that there was a huge part of me that hates WashU, and hates that I can be called a WashU nigga at the same time as a St. Louis Nigga.

At the end of the day, I'm going to graduate from WashU. I'll die in St. Louis. That's the way it'll be. Although WashU has done incredible things for me, my city has still done more and I won't let that be lessened by a school.


Saturday, May 29, 2010

You're Not Dr. Phil

So, as we all know, people tend to give me relationship advice all the time...even when I don't want nor ask for it. It's like an unwritten rule: Let's try and teach Gerald how to have a successful relationship even when he's persistent on being single. A lot of this comes from the "Relationship Hubris," a condition I'm still organizing for your reading pleasures, lol.


Anyway, with all these different avenues for advice, I've learned that some people need to learn how to keep their advice to themselves. All pieces of advice I list are completely true. Nothing was made up to make a point. The other issue is that I don't know if some of these work or not.


Gerald, you need to treat the girl like she's not wanted so she'll want you.
...oro?
That's how I treat complete strangers. So, let me get this straight, if I treat a woman like I don't want her, she'll want me...okay...I can accept that. But what if I genuinely don't want that woman? Will she still want me? So every woman I don't want wants me?
And why would any woman want to be with someone who doesn't want them? That doesn't make any sense. That's like me hiring someone I know is going to quit in 2 weeks. That's a terrible investment.

Just be yourself
Thank you, Disney Channel. Even the dude from the Prince and the Frog had to become a frog before he got the right one. Not really himself. Just sayin.

Don't do it, just avoid relationships at all costs
Thank you, Mr. Jaded. That's probably the most self-defeating relationship advice I've heard

So, if you treat them like shit AND THEN love them, they love it and feel like they changed you.
1) This came from a girl...threw me clean off
2) This mess works. Like, I've seen this form of game pulled off by some swagless negroes and it has a very high success rate. Hell, I did it for awhile with ASTONISHING results. I guess this is more of a condemnation of its effectiveness than a criticism of the advice. Can't knock the hustle.

Just smile and nod, let them do all the talking.
If that's a condition for a relationship with someone, I don't want that someone. If you're wrong, you're wrong. If you talk all the time, I'll eventually get tired of listening.

There's plenty more, but Its saturday and I have stuff to do. What's some dumbass advice you've been given?

So, I tried to switch to tumblr mainly because it's easier to post there...and quickly learned that I just hate tumblr. It's just kind of lame. I had to install a program to allow comments. Get flippin real.


So, 4thursday will remain my home, but the mindset of the Shy Microphone will remain. I'm still here for y'all, just on a medium that I can actually enjoy.

A few preliminary notes for this not-so-triumphant return. Let me make a few things as clear as possible. If you misconstrue these things, you'll simply be ignored.
  1. All poetry on this site is the property of Gerald M. Jackson. If it appears anywhere besides on his own personal FB page, it is plagiarism. I out a lot of time and energy into my craft. I take it seriously. Even if the piece comes out like crap, I love it to death. Do NOT try to get away with taking my works for your own glory.
  2. Opinion posts are just that, opinions.
  3. Every once-in-awhile, I put a post up that is clearly satirical. This is not a blog like Very Smart Brothas. My satirical posts aren't meant to have some deeper meaning. They're just satire. You won't uncover some deep, mythical secret about the way Gerald operates or thinks or the situations he's entangled in. You will not find the secret to life. It's satire. Do not try to be a psychologist with me, you're probably (are) wrong.
  4. I love feedback on poetry. Don't be afraid to dish it. Do NOT be all anal about the spelling and grammar here. A lot of this is written on my phone or on a wireless keyboard that has a tendency to skip letters and punctuation. Besides, this is all informal. Let's not be trolls, mkay
  5. Drama is for twitter. Don't bring that mess here. No name dropping, please.
With that said, it's great to be back!

Monday, March 22, 2010

In St. Louis

I (My City is a Science)

The Arch's elevator follows the rules of gravity

It rises at it's maximum speed,

Slowing down as it reaches the top,

Stops

Looks around,

Descends,

And reaches the ground at the same speed

Until it hits the brakes.


II (My City is a Burden)

She wrote my tombstone at age 15,

Said that I would be buried on top of her

She said that I was more than a child to her,

That I would be able to protect her

To defend her,

I want to love her,

But the bullies at school have those "momma" jokes

And sometimes, they're right,

And sometimes, I feel my eye twitch

And I know this isn't the way it's supposed to be


III (My City is a Protector)

My city cries water,

My city cries leaves,

My city cries liquor,

My city cries weed,

My city cries blood

My city cries needs

My city cries contacts

My city cries weave

My city cries anger

My city cries breeze

My city cries murder

My city cries pleads

My city cries drug deals,

My city cries fees

My city cries rivers

My city dried me


IV (My City is a Trending Topic)

#FoolsInSTL holla at women like car alarms

#FoolsInSTL make metro rides a hassle

#FoolsinSTL wear forces with cargos

#FoolsInSTL never know when to stay away

#FoolsInSTL eat Chinese food made by black men

#FoolsInSTL have no business on our campus

#FoolsInSTL play jazz like prayers

#FoolsInSTL sing jazz like hymnals

#FoolsInSTL think they're real

#FoolsinSTL will hurt me if I look at them weird

RT @SuchAndSuch #FoolsInSTL have no business on our campus (<--COSIGN! LOLZ)


V (My City is a Zoo)

Years ago,

A popular dare at Washington University

Was to travel into the hoods of St. Louis

To see how far you could get

Without getting hurt.

It's like putting your hand into the tiger's cage,

Draped in scholarships and entitlement,

Which probably tastes like ribs

And waving at the tiger

Who's too afraid

To be put to sleep

For biting the hand

that taunts it.


Maybe I should be that tiger,

Grab you by the fingers

And slam you against the bars,

Let you remember how tigers are in the wild,

Let my fur run against your shaking arms

Snarl the same way lions do,

And let them stick a needle in my neck

Let me close my eyes

And know that the last thing I tasted

Was this.


VI (My City is a Bullet)

When a gun is fired into the air,

It begins traveling at it's highest speed,

Decreasing as it gets higher

Stopping in mid air.

It looks around,

Admires the view,

And falls

At the same speed it rose,

Until it lands

Somewhere.


VII (My City is a Nigga)

I am a St. Louis nigga,

I am Cardinal red nigga

I am pigs feet kind of nigga,

I am riverfront times kind of nigga,

I am imos pizza nigga

I am Mizzou fan nigga

I am twisties and beer type nigga

I am bullet-hole kiss dreads type nigga

I am tax-refund type-nigga

I am "stompin in my Air Force Ones" nigga,

I am not Nelly, nigga,

When's the last time you've seen St. Louis nigga

Say you live here, nigga,

Say this city neglects you, nigga,

Say it doesn't protect you, nigga,

Say you don't need it, nigga,

Say it doesn't need you, nigga,

Say it doesn't affect you nigga

Nigga

I am St. Louis, nigga


VIII (My City is a City)

A friend of mine said

the Delmar Loop

would be so much better

if WashU just bought it out.

A friend of mine tried

to make frustrations with 3

people in the city

global.

A friend of mine said

these people

aren't worthy of having

children

A friend of mine said

they wonder

why life will never

get better for them

A friend of mine said

the universities

are all that matters

in this city

A friend of mine said

the people in St. Louis

are best used for

community Service

because it looks good

on her resume

A friend of mine said

these are the nation's

unwanted pregnancies

A friend of mine said

this city

doesn't exist

And I wish I could tell them

to stop it.


IX (My City is Not a Child)

Washington University

Remember

That you are still

In St. Louis


X(My City is a Mother)

She decorated my tomb at 21,

She asks if I will be ready to come home

And I smile

At this lady who raised me

To be as proud as her arch-shaped smile

And river-shaped fingers

That hold this country in her grip


XI (My City is Me)

I rose at the speed my mother launched me

Stopped at the top

Am admiring the view

Knowing that eventually

I'll fall

At the same speed I was launched

And will land

Back home.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Where My Short People At?

In sperm banks across America, thousands upon thousands of men are turned away daily because of several "defects." You can be turned away because of a low sperm count, a sign of infertility. You can be turned away because of physical disabilities or for being deformed. You can be turned away for having a mental disability. And, you can be turned away for being too short.


And by too short, I don't mean 4'5" or something. The acceptable height for a sperm donor is 5'8" or above. If you have any one of the defects listed, you are considered "Undesirable"

Funny thing about the process: They give a personality test. Sometimes, the person who controls the test is instructed to reject people who have an undesirable personality...but they tend to accept people with piss-poor personalities because their physical desirability is so high.

Guess what, my 5'7" and below brothas! You're defective! You're natural genetic code has been deemed a deformity, and through practices like this, it's being handled. Be proud, you've become an undesired minority in a world of skyscraper males and the females who are taught to look up instead of right in front of them!

What I find funny is that personality comes so far after looks in a time when political correctness is supposed to make us think that the opposite is true. (I guess the funniest thing is that height is considered harmful to one's looks.) In the end, though, it makes sense. People will always say what's politically correct as long as they can still act as honest to their hearts (read: libidos) as possible.

Well, I'm here to represent for my short folk, who are persecuted everyday. Whether its the realm of relationships or the realm of business (which aren't very separate worlds, I'll have you know), we short people are tired of being treated like creatures to be tossed aside for your own selfish gains. We will not become an afterthought in your eugenic genocide of our people! Short people, get on a chair and STAND UP!

As a short person:

1) I demand shirts that fit my size without falling to my knees!
2) I demand the same level of respect and possible upward mobility as my taller counterparts in the workplace.
3) I am tired of hearing the political correct jargon of acceptance and willingness from lying women who refuse to acknowledge my identity as a man, instead acknowledging me as a kid.
4) I am tired of my good leadership abilities being attributed to a Napoleon complex.
5) You will NOT use me as an armrest unless I am allowed to thunderpunch you in the genitalia.
6) I am tired of people thinking that because you can literally look down on me, you can figuratively look down on me.
7) I refuse to be called little brother when I'm fucking older than you.
8) I am just as capable at any act as someone who is a few inches taller than me.
9) I demand a reevaluation of worth based on aesthetics. Just because I'm half your size doesn't mean that my worth is half yours.
10) I demand acknowledgement that, as a short person, I am treated different by a society that prizes height. This is especially apparent in the black community, with a higher average height. I am rightfully disappointed in a race that has been socially marginalized since being in this country for taking part in the marginalization of people who fall just short of the national average height.

I hold this truth to be self-evident: All people are created equal. It's just sad that I have to stand on a stage for you all to notice it.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

A Game of Wolves (Draft 1)

When hunting wolves,

hold the rifle steady,
butt against your shoulder,
breathe slowly, downward
so the wolf doesn't see
your breath,
Be part of the environment
never chase the wolf,
tempt the wolf,
don't get too close,
distance is key.

I hadn't seen her in years,
but I remembered her teeth,
straight, white, with sharp
incisors that left bite marks
on my shoulder,
when we were children,
we were always either
hunters or wolves.
She always won.
Always,
knew to either fire first
or be chased.

A cornered wolf
is more dangerous
than a rifle.

I saw her in shnucks,
ironically,
she smiled in my direction
intentionally,
tempting,
she always knew to never chase,
always knew to keep her hands
where I could see them
I'm not saying I didn't trust her,
but I didn't trust her,
like
most women,
like
most hunters,
she knew to never chase
and always tempt

"I remember when you used
to chase me,
it was cute"
"Was it?"
"Like a baby chasing bubbles,
or tag,
you were never very good at tag,
though"
and we both laugh,
eyes locked on each other,
Never let the target out of your sight
"Well, I remember when you
weren't able to see me.
I was a good hunter,"
"You were just good at hiding."
"That's what a good hunter does,
that's why you always made me
play the wolf.
You never learned how to lose."
"What happened to us."

and I should have told her:
You never learned how to lose,
that rifles and bite marks
are not mutually exclusive
and that, maybe,
I was too good at giving
and never knew how to take
very well.
I was comfortable
being a wolf,
because sometimes,
it's nice not to see it coming

Make sure the wolf does not
see it coming

and she says
"I remember when you
used to love."
"When was that?"
"Between the tempting
and the shot,
when I could see you
in my scopes,
you were always loving
harder than the bullet."
"And how did you love?"
"Huh?"
"How did you love?"
Never chase,
tempt
"I don't know"
"You were always good
at knowing when to fire,
knowing to tell when the wolf
is completely in love
and striking
either between the eyes
or in the chest cavity,
you made sure
that you didn't leave
the target alive."
"What are you trying to say?"
"That, maybe,
you were a better huntress,
and I was too good at loving.
I'm not able to dodge bullets
but I can tell
when I'm being tempted,
and you are a little to good
at hiding, sometimes."
"You were good at hiding, too,"
"Maybe.
Maybe I exist somewhere between
wolf and hunter
between giver and taker
but I've always been a better giver,
and maybe
you were better at receiving,
and maybe I should have bitten you
when I had the chance,
to make sure that you
were never able to take from me again."
And she nods
and I know
that we will probably
never speak to each other again
and that she will tell her friends
that she killed another wolf
and I might
have to agree with her.

No matter how much you prepare
eventually, you will chase the wolf,
and a cornered wolf
is more dangerous than a rifle.
When stuck in this situation,
remember,
that the one who walks out alive
is the one who
willing to fire first.