E Ink coming to smartphones. And I kinda dig it.

This is pretty cool. They're working on low-cost smartphones with screens utilizing the same E Ink technology as those grayscale Kindle and Nook e-readers. Impressed with a prototype from the Mobile World Congress last week, LiveScience reported that "The device is designed to last at least a week on a charge and cost as little as 150 euros unsubsidized." (Which, frankly, isn't that impressive at all, but it's the potential (of this dead-end technology?) that excites me.)

I own a third-generation Amazon Kindle, which is what I use now to do most of my book-reading. It's somewhat outdated, but I like it. It's about as light and readable as a paperback, and it's more comfortable overall, because I don't have to apply any pressure to keep the pages flat. And, of course, there are the many digital conveniences: being able to store multiple books on one slim device, saving on shelf space, instant delivery for online purchases, etc. That said, I almost pulled the trigger on buying a Nexus 7 tablet last year, thinking it could replace my Kindle. It would have allowed me access to more e-book formats, not to mention I could watch video, access the Internet, and play games on it. But I knew that all that fun stuff would have come with a cost (that is, on top of the cost of the device itself). One of the great things about my comparatively basic Kindle is how long the battery lasts—weeks usually—before I have to recharge it. Meanwhile, I've never owned a tablet, but I sometimes barely make it through the workday before having to recharge my smartphone, and I can only imagine that a tablet would run out of juice at an even faster rate. That wouldn't really be acceptable for my regular-use e-reader. What a bother it would be, if I were in the middle of a chapter, and suddenly the warning light for my battery came on, forcing me to take a break from reading until it recharged, or at least momentarily taking me out of the experience. With how quickly these mini computers drain, I would expect that to be a regular occurrence on a tablet. At that point, I would rather go back to paper books.

So, yeah, I can see that an E Ink smartphone might have a certain appeal. I do consider battery life to be the major Achilles' heel of current smartphones—the most palpable limitation that, within a few tech generations, is going to make today's devices feel painfully out of the Dark Ages. Nevertheless, I don't think I would actually give up my full-color HD display for a longer-lasting E Ink phone with inevitably more limited functionality. It would almost seem to be a different category of device, much as the e-reader is not redundant, despite the existence of the tablet. And I almost wish I could have one to complement my current smartphone. Except that would be ridiculous—having both a "practical phone" and a "fun phone."

"Torn" by Ednaswap

"My conversation has run dry, that's what's going on, nothing's fine I'm" this Natalie Imbruglia adjective

The category was "1990s Music," in the "Double Jeopardy!" round of the 2013 Tournament of Champions finals, game 1 (Monday, February 25, 2013). (Thanks to J! Archive for the log.) For $1200, eventual tournament winner Colby Burnett buzzed in the correct answer: "Torn."

Although "Torn" was made famous by Natalie Imbruglia's chart-topping 1997 cover, it was originally written by Anne Preven and Scott Cutler (members of the alternative rock band Ednaswap) and Phil Thornalley. Here's Ednaswap's version off their 1995 self-titled debut album (uploaded to YouTube by user Zeruhur):

http://youtu.be/-7ULhmJIi4s

Not long after, Ednaswap extensively reworked it into an even harder, grungier arrangement, which they would use for their live performances thereafter. Subsequently, Thornalley was contracted to produce some songs for Australian soap star Natalie Imbruglia, and the rest is history (or at least, sixteen years later, a Jeopardy! clue).

Even compared to Ednaswap's first version, Imbruglia's cover has been called a wimpy take, although, let's be honest, Preven's lyrics were always kind of melodramatic and a natural fit for Top 40 radio. Whereas Preven's raw vocals and the harsh guitars of the Ednaswap version convey the wounded and bitter tone of the lyrics, I feel Imbruglia's more delicate, pop-y performance better reflects the immature naiveté of a young woman facing the disenchanted end of her first serious relationship with an older man. I think they're each effective in different ways. If I were doing the music videos, I'd have Imbruglia's version playing quasi-ironically over a grainy or sepia-toned camcorder montage of a charming couple—a young Imbruglia stand-in with some Richard Gere-looking gentleman—enjoying shallow happy moments (prancing around on the beach, taking bites out of one another's ice cream cones, etc.). And, for the Ednaswap version, I'd use the exact same footage of the young Imbruglia, but pristine instead of sepia-toned, and intercut with clips of Anne Preven performing the song, either in the studio or alone in some random loft. If it needs more, maybe close with a shot of a torn photo in Preven's wastebasket of her and the Richard Gere? Yes, the actual Natalie Imbruglia video is probably much better than anything I could envision.

Amazon Affiliate links:

Ednaswap - Ednaswap's debut album, not available in MP3 unfortunately

Wacko Magneto - Ednaswap's 1997 album, featuring their reworked version of "Torn"

Left of the Middle - Natalie Imbruglia's album, with her cover of "Torn"

Not a lot of good roles in video games

Dreamed that my brother and I were at Toys 'R' Us to check out a demo for a new video game. It was not an especially big release, but the demo was being hosted by Halle Berry, who was also voicing one of the characters in the game.

Arriving at the store, which was set up like a Toys 'R' Us from twenty years ago, with the game aisles lined with tickets instead of actual physical copies of games, we found it surprisingly empty. It was just us and Halle Berry there for the demo–no other fans, no PR people, no press, not even any regular customers showing up for the playable debut of this brand new IP. Which starred Halle Berry! And Halle Berry was there at Toys 'R' Us!

Greeting us, she was warm and professional enough, though clearly not too excited to be there working a dead event. Seemingly glad to at last have someone to talk to, she briefly explained the story of the game, which was something like a Philip K. Dick short story turned into an action movie (think Minority Report or Total Recall) turned into a derivative, ultraviolent, morally vacuous shooter. We asked her how she liked being in the game. She said it was just a job–the best part in a video game that her agent was able to find for her–and she lamented that there were simply not a lot of good roles in video games for a mature, self-assured woman of color. Finding her frankness refreshing, and since we were enjoying such a nice, casual, and exclusive chat with Academy Award-winning actress Halle Berry, I went ahead and asked the Catwoman star what kind of game she would have preferred to be in, if she could have had it her way. She immediately named a much higher-budget ultraviolent, morally vacuous shooter in a best-selling series. I think my brother responded with an approving "Niiice!" or maybe a "Wurrd." Or maybe that was me. Halle Berry affected a shy smile and pumped her fist.

That fist pump might have lasted the next twenty minutes, for all I know, because my brother and I stopped paying attention to her. We were ready to dig into that demo, and we had to give our full attention to deciding which two out of the forty-or-so nearly identical-looking colorful sci-fi assault rifles to load into the game with for our frowning male protagonist, who looked quite a lot like Jeremy Renner with shades. Finally, some twenty minutes later, we were at last gunning down squads of shiny armored (or maybe robot) soldiers. At one point, we blew up a tank, prompting a "Yeaahhh!" from Halle Berry.

My first thought upon waking up: Oh crap, I just bought Call of Duty: Black Ops last night, literally right before I went to bed. And it's a digital purchase, so no returns or refunds. What have I done?!?

Joypad

At the Japan Amusement Expo 2013, Sanwa Denshi, renowned manufacturer of fine arcade joysticks and buttons, showed off a prototype stick with a directional pad installed on the top of the ball.



I've long insisted that, despite hardcore gamer claims to the contrary, a good D-pad is an overall superior input mechanism to the joystick for fighting games. The D-pad is small and subtle. With just a twitch of the thumb, you can complete a quarter-circle or half-circle motion in a fraction of a second. It's easy as breathing. With the larger joystick, meanwhile, comes a larger radius, which means a greater distance to travel, which means more work, as you put your entire wrist into those circle motions.

The real advantage to using an arcade stick has, in my opinion, nothing to do with the joystick and everything to do with the buttons. You can divide those big buttons up among all the fingers on your right hand, instead of using mostly just your right thumb to manage four face buttons by itself on a gamepad. In this case, the stick setup is faster and more conducive to simultaneous button presses and stringing together quick multi-button combos than the pad. If only there were controllers that could ergonomically pair together these buttons with a D-pad in place of the joystick, I'd be set.

Alas, this non-working prototype looks like the most ridiculous and completely impractical thing ever.

Source: 4Gamer (via Shoryuken)

Mario Kart DS (Nintendo DS) (Nintendo, 2005)

Out of all the franchises that Nintendo can be relied upon to iterate on with each new platform, Mario Kart is, I would say, consistently the least brave, least exciting. The original Super Mario Kart was inspired, birthing an entire new sub-genre (I still don't understand how other companies are able to release mascot-based combat kart-racing games without having to pay Nintendo). I skipped Mario Kart 64 because I didn't have an N64 until after the system's heyday, but, when I eventually gave it a spin later, I found it a rehash, ugly, and really freaking unfair (this was the game that introduced blue shells, largely originating Nintendo's reputation for anti-competitive multiplayer games that cater to the weak rather than rewarding skill). I did play Mario Kart: Super Circuit for the GBA, finding it competent but stale and, in the absence of convenient multiplayer options, incredibly insubstantial. Double Dash!! for the GameCube was cool, although, for whatever reason, I didn't play it much beyond that first weekend I got it (that was how it went for most of the more party-oriented multiplayer games on the system, probably because there were just so many).

I don't know that Mario Kart DS is, on the strength of its core gameplay, a standout necessarily for the series, or even still worthwhile next to the latest 3DS installment (which I haven't played). I do vastly prefer the button-tapping tightness of powersliding with a D-pad versus an analog stick, but that's a personal preference. What made Mario Kart DS great in its time were the new capabilities afforded by the hardware and, for me, also the environment in which I was able to enjoy it.

I think everybody agrees that the strength of the series lies in its multiplayer. It's what made the first game fun, what Mario Kart 64 took advantage of to instantly justify that console's third and fourth controller ports, and why Super Circuit is such the forgotten entry now (because, even in the unlikely case that you could find someone to link GBAs with, the wired connection was slow and cumbersome). Mario Kart DS, however, was able to realize the multiplayer potential of the series like never before. The game did almost nothing with the handheld's dual-screen and touchscreen innovations, but instead it utilized the wireless connectivity of the DS to offer multiplayer gameplay that was easy to set up and did not involve cramped split-screens. Best of all was the number of players it could accommodate: up to a full eight, leaving no bots to spoil the party.

Although Mario Kart DS is often cited as one of the system's most important releases, on account of it being the first to do online right, it was, in my personal experience, fairly difficult to find a match, and even when I did, I would not enjoy getting left in the dust by some silent stranger driving like a weirdo with some "snaking" technique. No, the best way to enjoy the game was with seven other friends in the same room. Admittedly, this is an improbable scenario for most people, but I happened to be working as a game tester when Mario Kart DS came out. When the DS caught on at the workplace, Mario Kart DS was its killer app. It started with one guy using the DS Download Play feature to share his game with another DS owner. Then others, curious, asked to take turns, and, quickly enough, multiple people, myself included, were sold on the system specifically because the Mario Kart DS multiplayer was such a party. Soon, we were having eight-player matches every break, and, let me tell you, anything less now feels like a compromised version of the game. Nothing really compares to a race against seven other human beings, where every change in the standings is accompanied by a real person's live trash talk, and, for every maneuver, there is somebody to take the credit or the blame. Toward every frenzied finish, alliances are struck to unseat a leader, or bargains or petitions are made over when to use the blue shell or lightning bolt, before finally it all blows up and becomes every man for himself again.

Even Nintendo's "rubber banding" becomes forgivable when the bots are removed. After a few rounds, you kind of figure out who the better racers are, regardless of the blue shell-tainted results, and you come to accept those blue shells as just a way to keep the weaker players involved and happy. And you can never be as mad at a pitifully lousy human player as you would be if it were an AI cheating you out of your victory.

* * *

Sometimes, there would even be a mysterious ninth player trying to get in on our game—somebody who was not any of the people in the room, but who was somehow aware of our game and thinking to join uninvited. We would notice, of course, and laugh as we excluded him. Or if he somehow managed to join before one of us, the host would simply close and reopen the room, so that we could knowingly exclude and laugh at the mysterious stranger.

"Oh, I actually know who that is," one of our group mentioned once.

"Psh, we all know who it is," said the host.

I didn't know but was quickly informed that it was the office's resident douche bag (as if there were only one)—a straight edge born-again Christian nerd, who was apparently a stereotypically obnoxious example of each descriptor. In truth, to the extent that I knew him, I did not find his reputation entirely deserved. Although lacking a certain self-awareness, he was generally a pretty normal, cool guy, provided you kept him off certain trigger topics. But he was inescapably defined by a few infamous outbursts from before my time there, and, thereafter, even people who had never interacted with him knew him as "the resident douche bag" and would treat him so behind his back.

Teamed together with him one time on a later project, I found him playing Mario Kart DS during a break. The old Mario Kart DS group had, by this time, been broken up by the high turnover at that job, and I myself had tired of the game. A few people were still playing it during breaks together, but that was in another room. Where we were, the douche bag was the only one playing DS.

"Playing online?" I asked.

"No, by myself." Then, thinking to explain to me the workings of Mario Kart DS multiplayer at the workplace, he added, "There is a game in the building, but you gotta be quick to get in on it."

It really seemed that he was unaware that this "game in the building" was a private game among a specific group of people. I wondered, did he think he had somehow stumbled upon some mysterious game room that was just magically manifesting every break period for the first eight people who could fill it? Had it never occurred to him to try to seek out the source of the game and maybe just introduce himself and ask to join in person? Or if he was intending to play with strangers anyway, why didn't he just go online? These were all reasonable questions, but asking any of them would have required that I risk pointing him in the direction of the roomful of people laughing at him, and I didn't have the heart to do that.

Hrm, thinking about it now, it seems I easily could have busted out my own DS and offered to play with him, instead of deliberating over whether to laugh at or feel sorry for him. But, honestly, the thought never crossed my mind.

Maksim Chmerkovskiy too famous now for Dancing with the Stars

The cast list for the upcoming 16th season of Dancing with the Stars has been revealed, and, for those who are into that, a bigger surprise than any of the celebrity contestants announced may be who is conspicuously absent: professional Maksim Chmerkovskiy.

In an official statement, he implies that he's moving on to bigger things, having exhausted what he can achieve through the ballroom dance competition show:

I just want to set the record straight to all of my amazing fans that I will unfortunately not be returning for this season of Dancing with the Stars. I’ve been a pro dancer on the show for about seven years now and am eager to explore other opportunities that have been made possible because of Dancing with the Stars. I'm going to take this time to dive into producing and acting, while fulfilling my sponsorship obligations.

Anecdotally, the other day, I was listening to some older ladies discussing celebrity gossip, and one of them said, without any more specific context, "I heard Derek was dating that one girl. What's her name?"

The response from another lady: "Who's Derek?"

"Julianne Hough's brother!" the first lady answered, as though it had been understood by everyone else.

I hadn't realized Derek Hough was now a mononymous entity. I actually thought maybe she had been referring to an acquaintance named Derek. Silly me.

But it made me pause and consider that, to certain segments of television-viewing America, the recurring professional dancers on Dancing with the Stars are, by now, probably more recognizable than their celebrity partners. In fact, I don't think I even need to qualify it; I'd say the more successful dancers are objectively more famous than the average celebrity contestant. I mean, for such "stars" as Kelly Monaco, Drew Lachey, Gilles Marini, or Melissa Rycroft, getting to be on Dancing with the Stars certainly must have been a bigger deal than whatever they came from; most viewers had probably never heard of any of these people previously. Meanwhile, professionals like Maksim Chmerkovskiy and Derek Hough have gotten to be on multiple seasons of one of the biggest shows on television. So these guys are probably justified in thinking that they should have the star power and name recognition now to go at least as far in showbiz as the no-name actors they meet on Dancing with the Stars. Case in point: Julianne Hough is a bigger star in movies and music now than probably a good half of the contestants in the show's history ever were.

That said, I wouldn't honestly expect Maksim Chmerkovskiy to make it as an actor. I'd wager that, if we ever hear from him again, it will be upon his return to Dancing with the Stars.

Parks and Recreation (Season 3)

I'm still enjoying Parks and Recreation, although I felt the show's momentum stalled somewhat with the third season, as the show covered less actual parks and rec business and focused much more on character relationships.

I found the two new additions to the cast to be a mixed bag. Rob Lowe's portrayal of incessantly upbeat acting city manager Chris Traeger is, in some ways, inspired–an original and unexpected performance by a historically fairly bland name actor. But it was clearly conceived for a guest role (as Lowe's was at the end of season 2). Although the character's exaggerated exuberance is consistently worth a chuckle, it's also highly one-dimensional, and it's impossible to take him or any of his story threads seriously.

Assistant city manager Ben Wyatt (Adam Scott) is, conceptually, a more intriguing addition. Watching the first two seasons of Parks and Rec, and seeing Leslie Knope overcoming bureaucratic obstacles and opposition through her infectious optimism and tireless enthusiasm, you almost feel inspired, amid this climate of disillusionment with our government leaders, to go into politics and get the job done yourself. The addition of the Ben character, however, brings viewers back to reality. First, he was originally introduced, along with Chris, as a state auditor–a compellingly topical reflection of the budget problems that are now crippling our real-world governments, and also a reminder that social services come with a cost. Second, his backstory as formerly an 18-year-old mayor, who was elected into office by "anti-establishment voter rebellion," then impeached after a disastrous two months, is a cautionary tale to warn that, actually, it takes a great deal of work and know-how to govern effectively. And I also love that he's a geek who's not a fan of Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings movies.

Unfortunately, in practice, instead of actively balancing out the potentially hazardous side to Leslie's idealism, Ben seems to spend most of season 3 fawning over her. What I loved about the Leslie-Mark dynamic in the first two seasons was that, even when Leslie would inspire the burned-out and jaded Mark to lend a hand toward her wildly unrealistic park project, it was not that her optimism was dazzling him to the point of intoxication. In fact, I thought it was pretty clear that he never had a lot of confidence in her dream, not even as he was going out of his way to support her, which he did, not to get anything in return, not as any kind of investment toward the betterment of the world, and certainly not to join the winning side, but just because he liked and appreciated her as a person. To me, there was something very pure about that. In season 3, Leslie mostly just overpowers Ben and brings him into line with her way of thinking.

The biggest problem with season 3, however, is how it struggles to find a direction for the Ann Perkins character. She's not a wacky personality like the others, and she can't really generate comedy on her own in the way that Ron and Tom can. With Mark gone, the park project set aside, and the Leslie-Ben romance clearly positioned as the lead plot for season 3, Ann regrettably becomes relegated to a character limbo of not having anything to do on this show. Her romance with Chris is, as mentioned, impossible to take seriously, and the subsequent downward spiral of her love life comes across as a really halfhearted attempt to give her her own shtick as some kind of pathetic loser at love. This is unfortunate because I feel it's a waste of a character that actually fills a pretty important role in tethering this increasingly zany show to those of us in the audience. She began the series as the viewers' surrogate into the circus of the bureaucratic world, and I've also always felt that her friendship with Leslie should be one of the more important relationships on the show, as the two make for a genuinely delightful duo like none other on television.

Still, episode-to-episode, Parks and Recreation remains a funny show three seasons in. Without an overarching project this time, there wasn't quite as satisfying a build to the season arc, but it does close with some major developments. I'm looking forward to season 4 and getting all caught up.