L4D2 - The Passing (Tech Review)

* This entry does not cater to general public, by which I meant folks who don't know what L4D2 is. If you are still not sure where you stand, just ask yourself this - do I know how to change my nickname in the game? Of course this is not to deter laymen to read this entry entirely, just a kind reminder that the lingo might be unfamiliar and weird.

* For fans, spoliers ahead.

We have waited 4 months for The Passing to come out. Remember the days where rumors fly on whether it could be 8 persons co-op (in our dreams!) or can Midnight Riders be NPC or even playable characters, since there are 4 of them and they wield guitars?

Truth is finally out. L4D2 four leads, Nick, Ellis, Coach and Rochelle after escaping the mall at Dead Center in their trusty Jimmy Gibbs Jr stock car, their journey to the amusement park came to a halt in portside nighttown where they will meet Francis, Zoey and Louis, characters from L4D. Bill has sacrificed himself to allow Francis and gang to ascend a link bridge where they are trying to patch up an injured Louis.

Poor Bill. I'm pretty upset actually. We all are. I have never had a playable character kill off in a game before. Sure NPC die all the time, but knowing that someone you choose to stick with for months will not be around anymore, instead rotting away with the thousands of zombie you slaughtered, is unnerving. Despite the alarms screaming for us to fill the generators with 16 cans of gasoline and zombies rushing from all directions, the 4 of us gathered around Bill to have a last look before David (my bro) snatched away Bill's M16.

In the short 2 hour span, David and I completed the campaign twice - Normal and Advanced mode. We managed to see all of the Easter eggs and improvements of this DLC. We saw the bride witch and zombified waiters (which David thought it was a riot). Killing the bride witch, we thought of looking for the groom next, but it was massively messy.

Golf club was awesome. Swift, light and inflicts mass damages. It's like using Katana or Machete, with a metallic click sound. I wonder if the meele is a tribute to Tiger Woods' wife?

M60, or known to Counterstrike as Para is disappointing. With around 150 rounds, it will be barely emptied after a tussle with a Tank. Though I heard it will be best powered with incendiary ammo.

Suitcases of hand guns, crates of pills and Molotovs though a riot of laughs became meaningless after a while. Complete with items from Fallen Survivors, there is an overwhelming supply of items in the game.

The best part of the campaign was that of the three maps and one finale, it incorporated the essence of L4D2.

- X2 Tank Rush from Swamp Fever's Plantation House
- Dash gameplay from Parish's Bridge
- Storm from Hardrain
- Scavenger Hunt of gasoline from Dead Center's Atrium

Gameplay was disrupted by lags on several occasions and hopefully would be resolved soon.

Oh ya, I saw Midnight Rider's tour bus sped right through from the fence by the giant drain. Woot!

Overall I would give four stars out of five and hope to get more people to complete this campaign in Advanced mode. Any takers?

L4D2 - The Passing (For General Public)

* This entry is targeted for general public.


I have never been much of a fanboy in my life. A geek maybe, but only a closet one. I have never queue for nights for launch of iphones, Halo or Star Wars movies. I am the technological barbarian and a very lazy nerd.

But the past twenty four hours, I have partaken in a fanatic nerd-rage that is both exciting and embarrassing for folks my age.

Upon knowing the launch of the much anticipated 'The Passing' campaign for Left4Dead2, we camped out Sembawang Chambers LAN shop just to play the game.

24 hours post the update of The Passing around the globe, by now there must be gazillion reviews and blogs on the game. The reason I still want to squeeze in my two cents' worth is to remind myself in the future that I have never and will never be a Mr. Stepford. Despite marriage and work, I still have time for myself to engage in otherwise misunderstood frathood.

L4D2 is a first person shooter, cooperative game that can be played with both LAN and Internet domains. It is the sequel to Left4Dead which four survivors in a post-apocalyptic world have to fend themselves from zombies and special infected. It is a very violent game that depicts decapitations, disembowelment and genocide using chainsaws, M16, frying pans and sardonic dialogues. Blood fly and innards splashing all over the place that will shock parents into coma just like what Contra did in the Eighties.

Why don't I join regular people my age over beer in soccer pubs, or mahjong and other mature vices? I simply don't. I like to set people on fire over red bulls and pocky chocolate sticks and melee an endless surge of zombies while updating my Facebook. I like to curse, swear in joy, spin and throw my mouse in rage and laugh rabidly with my friends and brothers in front of glowing computer screens and seas of pubescent adolescents.

You just have to accept that the entire generation of Counterstrike gamers has now grown up and still decide to stick to their guns. The quick and easy access of modern Internet and media violence desensitization are just pushing the lot of us in numbers.

I am thrilled that The Passing was not disappointing and exceeded our expectations, which made the long wait worthwhile. I am looking forward to shorten the launch-and-play time of the next DLC (downloadable content) campaign of L4D that will explore the sacrifice of the playable character Bill and preparing for Blizzard's Diablo 3. Yes, I will be taking a week of sabbatical absence from work and housework for that.

How To Stop Gripping Your Callbell and Start Holding Your Spoon Correctly

I'm on a weekly course, mostly on thursdays and will last till Oct.

It's a neurorehabilitation course.

At these courses, I get to meet folks from TTSH rehab side, the Ang Mo Kio Hospital. Nurses, doctors, physios, occupationals, case coordinators, social workers, STs and psychiatrists alike. All offering a rehab perceptive.

It's a different one, for starter - they like to call us the 'Main Side'.

'How is it like at the main side?'
'Do you encounter such things in main side?'
'Nurses from main side, what do you think?'

And we all work for the same bosses.

The reason that I write this note is that through these courses of endless role-playing, discussions and simulations, I've realized that TTSH rehab is a very good place to work in, especially as a nurse.

For starter - I have never seen any follow up speech after self introduction by any presenters is to thank the nurses rabidly. It also appears that thanking nurses is mandatory for every of their closing statements.

I've almost forget how nice it is for nursing to be appreciated and acknowledged by fellow colleagues.

Nurses at Rehab have a major role to play in patient's rehabilitation journey. Rehab nursing is team focused where nursing input is tremendously vital. With the mindset that patients' probable final destination after Rehab will be their homes, Rehab team has stop cuddling their patients and push them to fend for themselves so that they can survive themselves when they are discharged. Nurses urge and push patients to feed themselves, shower themselves, use their walking frames appropriately and be responsible for their own well being because a world post stroke or spinal injury is a terrible world to be in and the Rehab team has to whip them into shape.

Interacting with Rehab nurses, they shown a very vibrant enthusiasm and optimism towards their work culture and their colleagues. The Rehab team; therapists and nurses alike KNOW all of their patients! Just give them a bed number and they start to have their mini case conference right during the course presentation, leaving the folks from the 'Main Side' bewildered.

Which they will always be kind to ask, 'How about the Main Side then?'

Two weeks into the course, I've learn to stop explaining to my patients that Rehab is a place for exercises. That's that. I now know how to point at their call bells and reply, 'We are here to give you that, but in Rehab it's their turn to wean you off from that.'

The Imaginarium of A Singaporean Death

Johnny Depp had said that line 'Nothing is permanent, not even death' in The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus.

This is often true.

This evening, I returned back to my Bedok house with HL, and was surprised that I am still receiving mails at that address. I was even surprised when that mail came from Great Eastern Co. They've update me about my Dependants' Protection Scheme.

Liang: 'Your CPF has insured you and everybody with this scheme. $46,000. The final payout you'll ever need. Your final expense.'

Kiat: '?'

Liang: 'Your family can only claim this 46k when you are dead. It's your CPF money, to ensure you have enough money for your funeral.'

HL: 'That much of money?'

Liang: 'Haven't you watch the 9pm show?'

Kiat: 'Yaya. Fancy that, a Taoist wake will cost over 10k while a 3 day Buddhist wake complete with chanting monks will set you back 5-6k!'

Liang: 'That's not all. What about the remains? Chinese are not allowed for burial. All have to burn. The casket, the service all need lots of money.'

Kiat: 'Remember that I told you about the story where the guy is too fat to have a normal coffin, they need to custom make for him and for that you can't cremate. The pyre is standard size. Then you have to purchase a plot for burial.'

Liang: 'That's rental. From the government! Few years down the road they will find you and dig you up.'

There.

Nothing is permanent, not even death.

Dark Carnival

I want to ride in a bumper car.

A flashy beetle that’s red and blue and green and gold and bubblegum pink all over.

Colors that belch, disgust, spit and sprint at once.

I want to be the fucking crash dummy.

And walk away from death.

Every.

Single.

Time.

Rant

More kids poured in. One more hour. The band probably will be late anyway. I was so bored. Standing bored. Rock gig is a funny thing. You pay hundreds of dollars, you have to queue hours, fight your way to the front and stand throughout the whole show. It’s pure sadism compared to going the Indoor Stadium.

Then a good old-fashioned conversation opened up. Not before me, but behind me.

Him: ‘Hi, you’re here alone?’ (Nice. This is gonna be interesting.)

Her: ‘Ya, you too?’

Him: ‘Yaya, My friends are not into Placebo.’ (So are my friends.)

Her: ‘Mine too. I always have to come alone for these gigs.’ (Alone? Awesome!)

Him: ‘Ah. So what else did you went?’

Her: ‘Paramore? (And some more shitty bands I cannot remember.)

Him: ‘I was there at Paramore’s too. It was awesome! So was Lifehouse!’ (Shitheads. Gay. Shitheads.)

Her: ‘Yaya, The sounds were amazing! I heard Stereophonics would be here. I can’t wait to go!’ (Dakota… Think that’s the only song I cared.)

Him: ‘Ah. I’m not into them…’

Her: ‘How about AC/DC? Or Led Zeppelin?’

Him: ‘Heard about them, but never really download their songs before.’ (Fraggot maggot.)

Her: ‘You should try Stairway to Heaven.’ (Or Immigrant Song, Black Dog, When The Levee Breaks…)

Him: ‘…’ (You and your Lifehouse cha-cha. Buried your head a hole and hide. A chick’s musical taste is better than yours.)

Her: ‘…’

Him’…’

Him: ‘So what songs do you think they’ll play tonight?’ (Nice rebound though.)

Her: ‘Hopefully all of their new album’s.’ (They should play all their old songs, cause I didn’t catch the new album.)

Him: ‘I hope they play Bright Lights.’ (Bright Lights?)

Her: ‘Yaya! I adore Bright Lights! I listen to it every night!’ (Must check out Bright Lights.)

Him: ‘I hope Battle For The Sun will be on too.’ (This conversation is getting annoying.)

Her: ‘I want them to play Infrared Red, you like their old songs?’ (This conversation is not getting annoying anymore. Discuss more on their older songs, cause they are the only ones I know.)

Him: ‘Actually I have only listened to their Battle For The Sun album.’ (GET OUTTA HERE!)

Her: ‘I like their ‘Meds’ album. It is the greatest.’ (I worship her. I really do.)

Him: ‘Do you like Every You And Every Me?’ (I am surprised you know that.)

Her: ‘Nope.’

Me and him went totally silent. This is bad. Who is she? What is she doing here not knowing what is that song? This is so wrong.

That could only be one reason.

Him: ‘This is odd but how old are you?’

Her: ‘I’m sixteen.’ (BURN! FLASH ALERT! JAILBAIT! JAILBAIT!) ‘And you?’

Him: ‘I’m twenty one…’

I pretended to look for friends I don’t have and turned around.

Gawd. She looked like nineteen and he looked like twelve.

Speak about plastic reality.

 

Spring Is Here Again, Reproductive Glands

Dear fat shit dressed in communist red,

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Journals_(Cobain)

---------------

This entry is a response to j's.

While she's on the topic, regardless if it's in jest or she bored, ya have to admit it's in everybody's head. Yes, I'm not ashamed to admit that I've contemplated suicide before. Be it a phase, an idea of escape, religious or last resort, I think it's human nature to think about it.

Who wants to live forever anyway?

I always remember the kitchen window at my parents' house. They took off the iron grills when their kids were big enough and replaced with sliding glass. When the glass were slided all to aside, it's just like a mid-air doorway to the skies. It's wide enough to fit two person, probably they have to help one another up the ledge, holding still to one's elbow and when the wind is right, it'll pull them off. And the wind is always right up at the seven floor.

I think I was about sixteen and thought of flying out that kitchen window humored me until I was twenty. Of course I wouldn't consider jumping off my own block. I'm not out for revenge. I guess enough is simply enough. I have seen life, passing around the same corner, the way it was yesterday, one year before and always will be in centuries. I have nothing to look forward to other than waking up to depression and my inferiority complex. No future, no love and no dreams. It has became a struggle to even begin my day. I felt drained at the slightest business and choked and suffocated with regularity. The people I have to meet and small talks I would have with them, hating every letter of it. I dragged my footsteps and turned insomniac. I read books and watch films excessively for escape. At train stations, in malls, around the fire exits, I will always look at the tiny sign of a green man running towards a promised exit. I wished I was green.

At sixteen I gave life a chance to redeem itself. By twenty five if I'm still not happy, in any ways or forms that allow me to look forward to the rest of my life, I will kill myself. I had plenty of time to lay it out. Plotting your own death is quite similar in plotting others. In Singapore where homes are built to reach the skies, jumping off them is a popular choice. However it will have to be far away from when I lived. I can't let my parents or the neighbours see the sight of me on the pavement. It will be in Jurong or somewhere across the sunny island. I will be fallible, unidentifiable and free hitting the gravel.

But that was years ago. Now when I looked back, I like to think that joining nursing has changed that. It allowed me to meet my wife, caring for the sick gave me a purpose and some societal meaning for existence, there were always be better books, films, music and ideas for inspirations and I like it when people read what I write. Alive I am able reminisce about the misguided bouts with my school fling, pretend that I could still can become a bestseller and continued to be enthralled by how perversely the beautiful japanese pornstars can be.

One lifetime. No less, no more. It's the same deal as everybody else.