Capsule Review: The Infernal iPad

Capsule Review: The Second Coming, aka the iPad



That's right, fearless readers, yours truly has succumbed to the will of the almighty Jobs and emptied his wallet to get his grubby meat hooks into the now legendary iPad. Why, you may ask. Good question, because yours truly doesn't quite understand himself. For this is a device concieved by the totalitarian state to pacify wimpy Appleism followers too scared to invest far less cash into something with the semblance of a functional computer. In today's Capsule Review, I will be reviewing this damned device and weighing the pros and cons of owning the latest shiny trinket pumped out by Apple's Chinese swea... er factories.

I suppose I should try to retain some semblance of objectivity in this review, so I will break things down into the following categories - aesthetics and metaphysics, functions and use, programs and the support of quasi-hacking communities, and rounding everything off with a personal and immutable judgement of this infernal device.

First impressions upon opening the box are... Sheer underwhelm-tion. Inside you'll find a charger, a far too short USB adaptor, and a rather heavy glass-topped coaster cum paperweight with a half-eaten Apple stenciled on it. Oh, and you get a tiny card with several cryptic lines of text on it, namely that you won't be able to turn on this device until you connect it to a computer with the latest version of iTunes installed. 

Of course you won't know this, having hastily torn open the box and yanked out the shiny trinket like a kid searching for the prize in a cereal box. You'll prod the unlabled buttons randomly until a silver Apple pops onto the darkened screen. "Great!" you'll think "It's starting up!". And you will be very wrong, because the next thing you will see is a diagram of a USB cable contemplating the rape of the iTunes logo, with no text to inform you that the device seeks to feed off your soul and your iTunes account before you are even allowed to touch it. You can prod, poke, shake, scratch, drop, or urinate on it as much as you like, and it will only mock your lack of manlhood by wontonly displaying that erect USB cable. After some cursing you plug it into your computer, because an iPad is not a computer unto itself and it needs to feast upon the data of a mothership to function. Here in lies the rub, and foreshadows things to come - for if you bought this infernal device as a portable computer, you will be sorely dissapointed in short order.

On the plus side, it's relatively light (for a book made of steel and glass), the screen is sharp and it feels nice as you gently caress it in your greasy hands. And greasy they are, despite all your hand-washing, because even the slightest tap leaves a streak of filth on the immaculate glass screen. Get used cleaning it frequently, because every time you touch it you will sully its purity, something a little irritating considering your only feedback into this device it by touching it.

The touch sensitivity is very nice and accurate, allowing you to type out your vitriolic hate for gophers and Alan Thicke quite intuitively on the phantom keyboard that pops up to block half your usable screen area. Once you get used to the tactile shortcuts you'll be flipping through applications with ease, making you loathe yourself even more for having degraded your myriad skills into a series of taps and swipes. The screen tilt fuction is handy too, if you want to watch widescreen video one moment, and then strain your eyes reading absurdly tiny text the next.

So how does the program function stack up to the gimmicky touchy-feely interface? Quite poorly indeed. Out of the box this is a thoroughly useless device. It is, quite literally, a giant iPod (or a giant iPhone, minus the phone and camera and utility). Web browsing is slow, and limited to "mobile" versions of websites, despite the fact that this is a goddamn WiFi enabled device that has a 1ghz processor. Oh, and the WiFi reception is quite awful for a device that is supposed to rely on the service. Your 5 year old laptop will resoundly kick the iPad's shiny metal ass when it comes to picking up the neighbour's unprotected WiFi network through the apartment walls. Did I mention there is no flash support? None. Zero. Fuck-all. So if you want to listen to streaming audio or watch video on ANY site other than YouTube, you can just fuck youself now, cause it ain't happening as long as Steve Jobs clings to the idea of Flash being a flash in the pan (HA) fad. Oh, and you can't download anything either, or access any folder directories, because that might allow you to download things that are - GASP - pirated or of loose morals. And the shiny happy people at Apple don't want you using your device for evil, no sir. Get your mind out of the gutter and let us neuter your web experience, you dastardly younguns.

The rest is passable. There is a notepad application for writing flame diatribes, a simplified but functional mail program, a GPS map that only works when you are connected to an internet signal, video and iTunes, and a photo browser. Everything else you will have to buy off the App Store, which is your (very expensive) ticket to making the iPad halfway acceptable as a computer substitute. I suggest downloading Perfect Browser right off the bat to eliminate the need for Safari's slow-assed, tab-free, mobile-limited internet poppycock. Perfect Browser is way faster, has real tabs, and can emulate a real browser so you don't shafted with mobile versions of websites. And such is the case with most things - you need to find an app that A. does it better or B. does it at all. If you are lucky, they are free or cheap. If you are a sucker, you'll end up spending the value of your device over again, safe in the knowledge that one power surge, short drop, or spilled coffee can instantly wipe out your investment. If you are the warranty-voiding type, you could always jailbreak your iPad and start perusing the hackerz sites for non-approved bug-addled apps that require a degree in C++ to operate.

The truest judgement of any computer is how functional it is... When looking for porn. In this regard the iPad sorely lacking, having clearly been designed to be used by luddites who recoil in horror when told the word "streaming". Your porn searches will be severly limited by the lack of full web support, no flash, virtually no video support, and no file directories to hide your saved stash in. No, your privacy is not assured with this device; beyond one password lock screen you have full access to everything aboard the device, so don't even think about hiding dirty pictures in your iPhoto program. On the plus side, the "home" button serves as a handy boss/wife button by instantly closing whatever is running and returning to the main screen.

So how do I feel about this trinket that sits before me, mocking my poor judgement and susceptibility to hype? Well, after downloading around 20 applications, I think I have just begun to make it a functional imitation of a real computer. The initial disappointment has subsided, replaced with only hollow regret. While it's no substitute for a true computer (a netbook would be a better bet for that) it has it's charm as a gadget that can be used for a variety of things - once you get your apps together. Make no mistake - the iPad is thoroughly useless out of the box. Start downloading to really make the most of it. 
 
Two and half Patsies.
(Please note the Patsie scale is temporarily down due to moving, as my photoshopped heads of obscure British pop culture references are on my other computer)
Sent from Iosef Andreyevich's iPad.

The Batshittery Resumes in Three... Two...

In a world where there are no updates, blogs will stagnate and become useless usurpers of bandwidth.

One man will stand alone... And do precisely nothing about it.

That's right, dear readers, I have returned to the interwebs after far too long a hiatus. My captivity at the hands of evil New Brunswickans is finally over, after a lengthy battle with lobster-men of the Grand Pre and several months of hiding from the Eastern-Block Potatoe Mafia. I have returned to my beloved city of Montreal, the land of DuMaurier and Molson - a return long in the making, which also happens to mark my return to the realm of batshit insanity in the blogosphere.

It should come as no surprise that I neglected to post anything for so long... As in most aspects of my life, I tend to take up fun diversions until I become distracted by newer, shinier things. But NO MORE! I return to you, my beloved followers, to continue the spread of madness and redundant opinion across the 'web. For what would the world be like if it were devoid of the rantings of unbalanced individuals such as myself? Far better, I assure you.

As per usual my identity remains secret. And it shall remain so. My profession and my clients will remain nameless, my skills shall remain without definition. All I shall say is that over the past year, my absence from this, my beloved outlet of vitriol, has been to develop my skills in a new profession where I may advance a meaningful career and make far more money than I dreamed of while I was scraping Kraft Dinner out of garbage pails in my student days. All I shall say is that my job may or may not have something to do with Gary Busey* and three leopard seals.

So welcome back to the delightful, uncanny and surreal romp through my tortured mind. Mr. Andreyevich is back, and he intends to overshadow his previous piddling efforts with even higher levels of caustic opinion, useful reviews, general madness and (somewhat less-than) insightful commentary on the state of all things.

Yours in the absence of sense,
I.A.

*(Gary Busey does not condone, nor does he reject, the contents of this post.)

...And now for something completely different.

Built for a friend, BEHOLD! My latest scale creation. This little piece of insanity is a Warhammer model that I modified with my own peculiar brand of nonsense. It features many bits and pieces from my spares bin to give it that extra "wtf" factor. I shall have to do more of these projects in the future; I get sick of hearing how there are too few hex bolts on the drive sprocket of (X) every goddamn time I build a historical model that doesn't meet the strict rivet-counting nit-picking criteria of the legions of internet model makers.

I.A.

Capsule Review: Watchmen - The Movie

Well, it’s been a long time coming, fellow nerds and nerdettes. This week we finally get our long-awaited and almost-delayed/canned movie adaptation of one of the classic graphic novels. Alan Moore’s epic “Watchmen”. Okay, I’m really being facetious. Watchmen, as a comic, is pretty ordinary by modern standards. It was innovative in the 80s, and the story is interesting, but it’s still very comic-book-y and simplified for a mass audience. If you want the “Citizen Kane of Graphic Novels” you should be reading Maus or some other materwork that happens to be a visual novel, not a drawn-out “superhero” comic that has pretences of greatness because it gave some dark flair (read: emotional flaws) to the main characters. But I digress, before Alan Moore and his fanboy minions start gathering outside my door with pitchforks in hand.

I enjoyed the “novel”, so I was looking forward to the movie. I felt the visual style of the book could lend itself well to the big screen, and the film doesn’t disappoint. Aside from the usual “dammit I can see all the CGI effects” that plagues modern filmmaking, the movie is a visual tour-de-force. Which is damn well should be; it’s a movie based on a comic for chrissake. The pains that were taken to match the visuals of the comic are impressive; even the actors are near-perfect visual recreations of the originals. Most of the scenes are frame-for-frame recreations of the panels, complete with original dialogue. The novel was the script, for good or ill. The movie retains the punchy (read: terse and clichéd) dialogue of the novel, which makes the film seem overly simplified. Especially if you have never read the novel; to fans, it’s probably just what they wanted.

So the dialogue isn’t perfect… And neither is some of the acting. Silk Spectre I and II both come off as wooden characters, with zero chemistry in the “emotional” family scenes. Sally/Silk Spectre I is particularly cringe-inducing, taking what was already a dull portion of the novel (the mother-daughter banter) and making it painfully dreadful with a Keanu Reeves phone-in performance. John/Dr. Manhattan is appropriately distant (he is an omnipotent demi-god who lost touch with humanity, after all) but still irritating as a character – you won’t have much sympathy with the portrayal of Dr. Manhattan, even though the novel makes a good effort at showing his underlying humanity and how his human life (emotion) was destroyed by the accident that made him a super man.  On the plus side, Walter/Rorschach is appropriately psychotic, Dan/Nite Owl II is a good insecure middle-aged single guy, Edward/Comedian has a detached and grizzled exterior hiding a collapsing psyche, and Adrian/Ozymandias is a pitch perfect representation of narcissistic hubris (in effect outdoing the novel, where he was more of a benign pretty-boy character until the denouement and ending, where his self-absorbed quasi-evil shows through). Bit roles are well played as well, with some big (Canadian) names showing up as Moloch and Hollis/Nite Owl I; overall the bit players really help to hold up the movie as a whole, which says a lot about the drabness of the main actors. A perfect representation of Lee Iacocca gets his brains blown out too – if that is not a perfect reason to see a movie, I don’t know what is.

Beyond the dry bits, there is plenty of top-tier action and over-the-top violence to keep the Frank Miller crowd happy. In fact, the violence is quite astounding, even compared to the original novel. Nothing is left to the imagination; Dr. Manhattan blows enemies up in a shower of gore and bone,  baddies get their limb broken in compound-fracture fashion, and the “angle grinder” scene will give anyone who isn’t a horror junkie the willies.  It wasn’t necessary by any means; you would think that in the post-Hitchcock world we would be accustomed to having things left to the imagination (especially in a film that isn’t a slasher flick by any means). Then again, Zack Snyder did direct 300, which had all the subtlety and grace of an axe through your temple. Speaking of subtlety, why in the name of holy fuck did Snyder insist on making us sit through minutes of watching Dr. Manhattan’s little John waving to and fro? I don’t think we will ever know the answer. Be warned, homophobes, there is plenty of blue-CGI dick waving action in several key scenes.

Music is probably the weakest part of the film. Here we go with subtlety again; the choice of music ranges from odd to self-deprecatingly awful, and the soundtrack is WAY too loud in some scenes. Period pop music abounds, and it is sometimes hilarious. Watching the Comedian crack rioter’s skulls to disco tunes (it’s the 70s! Geddit?) is either sheer comedy or stupidity beyond reproach. Take it as you will. I thought it was funny, most people think it was just awful. 

Spoiler alert!

The ending has caused a lot of consternation among the fanboy crowd. Snyder axed the original “giant alien squid that isn’t really alien” blowing up New York ending in favour of Veidt/Ozymandias framing Dr. Manhattan for a series of explosions in major cities around the world. Some have suggested this new ending makes more sense; it does, if you compare it to the original ending. Show a giant squid materializing in downtown New York to someone who never read the novel, and you’ll have some major explaining to do. The novel has plenty of time to hint at what is brewing so it makes sense when it occurs; the movie does nothing to hint at what is coming, aside from Veidt and Dr. Manhattan collaborating on a power reactor design. The problem with this ending is it makes no sense from a character standpoint – why would Dr. Manhattan suddenly turn on the world? Because he was a little cranky over a bad interview? Because he wanted to teach everyone a valuable lesson about playing nice lest they face the apocalypse? Because he was just a big prick (no pun intended)? That’s my explanation, based on how little sympathy the character garners in the film. It seems out of place, but it’s probably as best as we can expect. Giant squid thing probably would have been worse, unless they added another 20 minutes of scenes to explain the development of the squid by Veidt. Oh well, we nerds can win ‘em all.

Overall the movie isn’t perfect, but it’s worth watching. The visuals and action are great, the alternate 1980s are well presented, and it’s true to the novel. On the downside, a lot of the acting blows, the music is dumb as shit bricks, subtlety is not in Zack Snyder vocabulary, and the ending is odd. I enjoyed myself, but I wasn’t expecting much. Keep your expectations low and you might enjoy it too.

PS – if you go for only one reason, aside from watching Lee Iaccoca get shot, go for the opening credits. They are sheer brilliance, and probably the best part of the whole film. Sad to say, but it’s true. I will be seeing it again next weekend, mainly for those credits. And Iaccoca’s death. Honestly, why didn’t they get the real Iacocca on board? He would have been great at getting shot in the face.

I give it three Patsies; I would have given it four if the real Iaccoca had gotten shot in the face.

 

 

Greetings from the Eastern Front

So after a longish hiatus, I’m returning to my blogoranting. Settle down kids, I know you missed me. Now shut up and let me pour my dead heart out.

I’m now located in (M) New Brunswick, my hometown. Coming back, I remember I left here for a reason. Nothing much to do, nothing much to see, and 1000 kms away from any real action. My roots may be here, but my heart is somewhere in a strip club in Montreal (right next to my wallet).  I’m trying to remain positive about my shift in direction, but you have to remember it wasn’t voluntary. I was stuck in Montreal with no money and no opportunities, one bill away from joining the screaming hobo who lived across from my apartment. I have a fancy-pants arts degree that is worth about three wooden nickels in the current job market. My job experience is all over the map, so I technically qualify for everything, but don’t have enough experience for anyone. 

And so I transfer my hunt into another province, somewhere where candidates don’t fight each other with broken pool cues just to get a second interview. No, here my credentials mean something, and my skills might be worth a damn. So in that respect, I’m probably better off here. Plus, not being a pur laine Quebecois in Quebec is a quick way to get booted off the market. Here, I’m a local, and I know the ropes.

As you can see, I’m trying to justify this as best I can. It’s hard, I’ll admit. I left behind a life of fun and non-stop entertainment (not to mention gorgeous women) to return to a quiet province where fatalities due to moose encounters outnumber gang hits by a fair margin. But I do look forward to the scenery, the rolling backroads, the lack of police patrols… Living in the Maritimes usually means you have to make your own entertainment that doesn’t involve paying a scantily clad college girl to grind your crotch.

I thought all would go smoothly in the transition, but a lot is getting affected negatively. My relationship is strained, my friends here are already sick of seeing me, and my friends from Montreal are pissed that I left them behind. Meanwhile I’m continuing the job search, which is a bit tougher because opportunities that don’t involve manning a cashier or hammering nails into something are a bit thin on the ground here.

So here I am, bored,  still unemployed, and sorry to leave my Montreal life behind.  I hope I have done my part in brightening up your day.

I.A.

Goodbye Montreal, Hello Maritimes

Ah dear readers, the economic crisis has hit yours truly as much as any other middle class BA grad. After six long goddamned months of unemployment in lovely Montreal, I cannot find a suitable (ie, paying) outlet for my talents and vast bile-spewing intellect. No, the market here is tanking fast, jobs are getting scarcer, and the competition for positions is fierce. So I'm off to my homeland of New Brunswick, the land of cheap real estate, lobster, Acadian flags, and so-called defeatist attitudes. My lack of posts in the last week are due to my running around getting things organized for my move, and squaring up my debts before my friends start thinking about breaking my legs. 

The next time you hear from me, I will be in an undisclosed location somewhere in the wilds of New Brunswick, preparing for the zombie holocaust. Erm, I mean I will be living somewhere in NB trying to eke out a living doing whatever it is that I do. I'm feeling positive about a change, because I've been shat on for a while here in Montreal, so it's time for a new start somewhere else, where my credentials actually have value and I don't have to mud-wrestle every BA this side of Toronto to get a job serving donuts. I'll miss you, Montreal, but you aren't doing anything to help me stay.

I.A.  

Shows you should be watching: Junk Science.com

JunkScience

Ok, so it isn't a show, but I'm sticking it under this header anyway. Piss off if you don't like my semantic antics. 

If you are anything like me (and God help you if you are), you like to get your fill of alternate viewpoints. And I don't mean "the government is spying on me through hidden cameras in my TV decoder" alternate, I mean legitimate dissenting views from within the intellectual community. After all, a debate isn't a debate if you only hear one side and that side reams information and claims down your gullet with reckless abandon. Anyone who has half a brain, or a university education, should have the skills to look at a problem from an objective, analytical stance - taking in the information and making a decision as to what you would like to believe.

Unfortunately, that has gone straight out the window ever since we got our collective panties in a knot over the horrors of carbon dioxide and global warming. Ever since Al Gore hoisted himself onto a pulpit and shat out a popular, but completely unscientific, movie that scared the bejebus out of anyone who didn't take the time to think things through or do some fact checking, well things have gone downhill. If you question global warming, or carbon fears, or any greenwash idea, you get labeled as some sort of heretic or backwards nut who needs to be burned at the stake (the only reason you are not already cremated is because the burning wood would create too many airborne pollutants).

Which brings me to the last bastion of anti-greenery that still retains a degree of objectivity. Junk Science is a compilation of alternative views, critiques, and general anti-Goreist sentiments maintained by Steven Milloy. Milloy's frustration with the world is palpable - often the posts degenerate into wanton green-bashing and rants against Al Gore than verge on the libelous. But don't let the bile and fury distract you from the important bits - this is no conspiracy loony bullshit, Milloy is presenting genuine scientific work and facts that you won't hear from the mainstream media - because they are too dumb to sort out what is plausible and what isn't. If you vehemently believe in global warming and green issues, then don't bother looking at the site. In fact, get the fuck off my blog, you hippie commie bastard. But if you want an eye-opening second opinion, and some interesting facts to mull over, I highly suggest you take a perusal of Junk Science and learn what the OTHER side of the debate is saying.

In Case Regular Stilletos Weren't Flashy Enough

Female poseurs and wives of millionaires now have a new fashion accessory to kill their feet. BEHOLD! The Lamborghini Superleggera shoes. The inside of the shoe is cleverly designed to jut into the wearer's ankles and cause great discomfort, replicating the ergonomics of a Countach. The brittle carbon fibre heels will shatter at the first impact, replicating the sound and expense incurred whenever a Lamborghini drives over a speed hump.  And as the photo shows, they produce smoke just like a proper Italian electrical system. 

If you look at this photo and sincerely think you would like to wear these, pick up the nearest phonebook or dictionary and use it to smack yourself in the temple. If you remain conscious, repeat. 

If you are male, and you thought these would look good on your significant other, take a pipe wrench and slam it into your crotch as hard as you can. That way you'll be prepared for the pain when your girlfriend kicks you in the balls for buying these for her.

I.A. 

The Cornucopia of Awesomeness that is Brandon Bird's Artwork

Brandon Bird specializes in pop-culture artworks, using celebrities and pop-culture references to craft oddball, surrealist, and quasi-retro paintings and sketches that are just too awesome for your tiny brain to contain. If you look at more than 10 of these works in one sitting, your head will explode from the sheer amount of awesome.

Brandon Bird Website

Buy a Piece of Shit, Support the Arts

I got wind (no pun intended. Okay, maybe a little) of a development at the Université de Québec a Montréal, which I happen to live next door to. A new art installation has been setup; the infamous Cloaca machine, a traveling mechanical digestive system. The machine takes food (scraps from the UQAM cafeteria in this case) and processes them using various chemical and enzymes, perfectly replicating the human digestive system. That means it makes shit. And farts. All along a fancy looking lab-style assembly with a final "dispenser" that drops the fresh product onto a platter.

That's fucked up enough, and it's enough to make me shake my fist at the idiocy of the art community to support crap (haha) like this and make the rest of us artists look like morons, but wait! There's more! Visitors can buy "souvenirs" from the machine. Do I need to explain this? PEOPLE ARE BUYING SHIT. They are paying money for feces. Excrement. Crap. I can just imagine a happy nuclear family, father dressed in a cardigan, mother in a dour dress, chipper kids in Leave it to Beaver garb, happily strolling out of the exhibit with a turd cradled in their hands, to be taken home as a new addition to their knickknack cabinet. Not only that, they sold out. They sold all the shit they had on hand. Don't make me repeat that. That is FUCKED UP.

The kicker is that, whether you like it or not, your tax dollars paid for it. 30 000$ of government (public) funds were ponied up to transport the thing in Canada (it's a traveling exhibit, so rubes everywhere can have their chance to buy art-turds).

Pictures of the various Cloaca units here:

Cloaca Machine

Shows You should be watching: Zero Punctuation

Hosted by period-challenged game reviewer "Yahtzee" Croshaw, Zero P is a brilliant and hilarious series of video game reviews that combine mile-a-minute voiceovers by Croshaw with scathing critiques and clever humour, set to excellent animation which is constantly breaking my whatthefuckometer. If you like games, or even if you don't, you must check out each episode. They are the best and most honest reviews you will find with a healthy injection of off-the-wall humour and unapologetic flame-baiting. Croshaw is not afraid to air his thoughts and piss of a world of fanboys, and I applaud him for it. He also popularized the technical term "Stonking Great Tits", which is reason enough to watch.

New reviews are uploaded weekly on Wednesdays. Check it out.

The Escapist's Zero Punctuation

Historian's Corner: The Greatest Historical Badasses

Cracked's "Soldiers who make Rambo look like a pussy"

I quite enjoy reading through Cracked's various lists of strange-but-true stories. It's a great blend of fact, laughs and thought that are surprising for what you'd think is a juvenile humour mag. 

This list in particular caught my attention; the most badass real life soldiers who ever served. I was particularly impressed with the story of the Finnish "White Death", Simo Hayha, one of the highest scoring snipers in history. You have to remember that the Soviets invaded Finland while they were still on "good" terms with Germany. The history you remember, of the Red Army crushing the Nazi hordes, only started after the German invasion of the East in 1942. Before then Stalin and Hitler were dictator pals (well, Hitler planned to stab Stalin in the back all along, and Stalin wasn't exactly a forthright leader either), and the Germans grit their teeth and let Russian troops overrun Finland in 1939. Hayha fought the Russians almost single-handedly, a lone sniper without a spotter. The amazing part is that an exploding bullet blew off part of his jaw and the side of his face and he was dragged off as a war prize - only to wake up a week later. He made a full recovery and lived a long life afterwards. 

One of my family members was similarly lucky. A member of the British No. 2 Commando unit, he served in Norway and Italy; it was in Italy that he had the bad luck of being shot in the head by a German sniper. He guessed the sniper spotted the glint off his helmet badge. Yes, you read that correctly - he guessed. He survived a bullet in the brain with partial paralysis, which he eventually overcame. When I knew him, the only evidence of his injury was a minor limp. That, folks, is true grit and major luck put together. He died of cancer years ago, and I never knew much about his service. I wish he was still around so I could find out what his years in the war were like.

I.A.

Latest scale work: 1/32 Luftwaffe Pilot

"What's all this then?" I hear you cry. Or not. Maybe you are not so easily impressed. Particularly by someone's rather geeky hobbies. That's right, readership, I am a dedicated scale modeler. No, not the typical overweight middle aged guy who hides in his basement (er, "studio") all day, painting historical models (which is code for sexy misogynist Anime figures/ 3D porn). Being a trained historian (such as it is), I like to flesh out my history in three dimensions. And make cool Nazi tanks and planes. It's true, I stick to German subjects from the Second World War. Not because I have any affinity with those jerks, but because they made the coolest stuff. Period. No matter what you make on the Allied side, it's going to be painted olive drab. German stuff had neato sprayed camo with all the colours of the Nazi rainbow that are an airbrush-er's delight. Plus their tanks and planes were scientifically proven to be wicked cool, in a famous study of 8 year old males. By famous I mean unknown. By scientific I mean entirely made up. By 8 year old males I mean the shrill voices in my head.

Anyway, that's what I do. It's what I have always done, since I was about 10-11 years old. I never felt the need to justify it, but as my girlfriend (yes, I have one of those) pointed out, what would people think when they walk into my apartment and see a sea of balkenkreuz and swastikas on my various projects? Oddly I never thought about it, because we (modelers) tend to over represent German subjects as a rule, so I never felt I was an odd one out for my interest. 

Anyway, here is my latest creation. It's a late-war Luftwaffe pilot with his steed, a Messerschmitt BF109G. Essentially I built the plane as an elaborate base for the figure, which I bought before I got the kit for the plane. For those unfamiliar with scales, 1/32 is big-ass for a plane. The figure is around 5.5 cm tall.

I'll post new projects as I complete them.

I.A.

Capsule Review: M-Audio Revolution 7.1 PCI Soundcard

When it comes to Mac-compatible sound cards, M-Audio is pretty much the only game in town. Oh sure, Creative made a Mac SoundBlaster a few years back, but it was quickly forgotten and no longer has driver updates. So for current tech that is designed for Macs and has extensive support, M-Audio is the only option. And, as you will now hear, it’s a goodun.

I picked up a Revolution 7.1 to bump up the sound quality on my Power Mac G4. Oddly, when I got the Power Mac, I found it had poor sound quality compared to my iBook G4, which was a bit newer and had a better onboard soundcard. This just wouldn’t do, because I love top-quality audio, and my Harmon Kardon speakers beg for a decent sound output. I’m an amateur audiophile; I can’t make music to save my life, but I can tell the difference between a 192kps recording and one with 256 or 320kps by ear. 128-160kps sound like crap to my ears. So I’m more sensitive to sound quality than the average schmuck. And I believe that qualifies me to give a brief review of the Revolution 7.1 I stuck into my Mac. Don’t argue with me, I’m on a roll.

A bit long in the tooth now, the R 7.1 is a solid soundcard, and got very good reviews when it was released around 2004. I paid about 110$ for it, locally, but you can get them for as little as 25$ on Fleabay if you are so inclined. Either way, it is worth your money.

For your money you get full 7.1 support through individual 3.5mm jacks. Also provided is a digital output port if you happen to have that capability. For me, I don’t even have a 7.1 system. Or 5.1. Nope, I make do with a set of H/K 2.1 “Champagne” speakers. Speakers that were considered middle-of-the-road to above average by most reviewers. With the R 7.1, that changes.

With the latest drivers you get a comprehensive set of presets for various speaker systems, including my Champagnes. Setting the output for this preset, then fiddling with the surround sound and “trubass” settings revealed that my humble old speakers had amazing capabilities. Sound clarity is perfect, bass is crisp while still throwing out some serious wall rattling power, and the surround sound works brilliantly. It’s quite eerie to sit between two speakers and suddenly become enveloped in three-dimensional sound, as if you had a true surround system – except this is entirely through the software. Amazing. It gave my H/Ks a new lease on life. I was fist pumping with the pure joy that only an equally crazy audio nut will understand. The sound quality exceeded my expectations, and blew me away. I never thought I could extract such rich sound from such simple speakers.

But there is a caveat. Actually two. You see, the R 7.1, despite being a dedicated sound card, actually consumes more processing power than the onboard card. I clocked the difference at nearly 10% more (as in 10% more of the processing speed, not a 10% increase) for the R 7.1. So don’t expect this to speed up your old computer by taking sound processing off the motherboard. The other problem is audio artefacts – on a regular basis I get the odd pop, click or warble. Usually when I start a video or sound file; the worst, however, is when I pause a movie in Quicktime, then restart it only to have the sound completely garbled. To fix it requires restarting Quicktime. I recently updated to the latest drivers, but I’m still getting minor artefacts. It’s not enough to dissuade me completely, however. The sound quality is so damn good I am willing to overlook this rather apparent flaw. But the final score reflects this problem.

I give it three and half Patsies. The audio flaws are irritating and the price is high, but you don’t have much choice when it comes to Mac compatible stuff, and the sound quality is mind blowing once you get it dialled in for your speaker setup. Recommended.

Historian's Corner Capsule Review: The World at War Series

This review is the first of a series of “capsule reviews” of whatever I feel like commenting on. In this, the first instalment, I will be reviewing the Time Life World At War DVD series.

My review is summarized by a rating out of five Patsies, the worst being half a Patsy, the best being five Patsies:

 

The internationally recognized, SAE approved Patsy scale

My rating is entirely subjective and not based on any particular criteria; it’s just whatever the hell I feel like giving.

So enjoy, turkeys.

I.A.

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The World At War, Time Life

If you watch any history channels, you may have come across an advertisement from Time Life for a DVD collection featuring rare footage from the Second World War. It touts how this footage is grisly, graphic and unique, and portrays the DVD set as a sort of compendium of stock footage. 

This is severely underselling The World At War series, a 1970s British documentary series that followed the events of the Second World War using new footage, eyewitness accounts, and a sombre historical narrative provided by Sir Laurence Olivier. I find it odd (actually, disturbing) that Time Life sells the set as a sort of voyeuristic compendium of graphic footage for history nuts, rather than as the solid and acclaimed documentary series it is. 

Clocking in at almost 30 hours, including the “bonus” materials (a few extra documentary episodes that recycle some of the testimony and expand upon in - particularly the interview with Hitler’s personal secretary, and a standalone two-part overview of the Final Solution), this series is a massive undertaking for the average viewer. Thankfully, it is very well presented. The events are distilled to their historical essence, in easy-to-digest 1 hour episodes. There is no high-falutin’ historical theory here – this is the straight, “popular” history of the Second World War, and that’s not a bad thing. It makes the series accessible to most anyone, and it provides a refreshingly simple refresher course in the war for us historians who have spent years poring over dry academic articles. Indeed, the talking-head portions are devoted to eyewitnesses, civilians, and combatants – not historians who never had a bomb fall on their house, or see their buddies get disembowelled by a machine gun. This is a strong point in my eyes; I’m quite tired of having a third party mediate history, and I quite enjoy being able to listen to the testimony of ordinary people who were involved, however flawed their views may be (more on that in a bit).

The selling point, unique footage, is certainly present. Much use is made of film from the war, completely overshadowing the odd talking head moments (thank God, because nothing kills the flow of a documentary like five minutes of staring at someone’s face). There is a plethora of colour footage here, and a lot of film you won’t see anywhere else. Sometimes it is graphic and stomach turning; colour footage of dismembered corpses lying on a battlefield, or the sight of a doctor sawing off a soldier’s leg in a field hospital, these are not sights for the faint of heart. Even seasoned film viewers like myself get a little queasy, because these are real people with real injuries, not actors with special effects.

The focus is clearly on the British and American side of the war, with the bulk of the series focussing on the European theatre. This is the main flaw of the series; the Pacific front is given a few episodes but it feels like it has been tacked on, and there are even some jarring racial stereotypes that belittle the Japanese as a people (remember this was made in the 1970s). Nothing is made of the contributions of Canadians, or the exiled armies of the conquered territories, or Australia, or… Well, you get the idea. Thankfully Germany is well represented, for good or ill, so it is not an entirely one-sided presentation.

The most disturbing moments sometimes come from the interviewees. One in particular stands out; Major Otto Ernst Remer (now infamous as the man who tried to carry out Operation Valkyrie arrests only to be stopped by Goebbels when he was put on the phone with a not-at-all-dead Hitler) is interviewed in several episodes. A curt and curmudgeonly old man, surrounded by relics of his service in the war, Remer vehemently denies the Holocaust on camera and generally upholds the stereotype of a German following orders without question and without remorse. It’s a sobering moment, and the series is full of them - like when a Berlin woman states, in emotionless fashion and without warning, that she was raped by a Russian soldier. Or when a victim of a cull recounts how she was shot and left for dead in a pile of bodies. These are the testimonies that make the series truly fascinating, in giving the all-important human element to the proceedings.

At around 40$ for the full set, including bonus features (which aren’t really that noteworthy, as they often recycle things from the main series), The World At War DVD set comes highly recommended. Flaws and all, it’s an excellent series that should be examined by everyone – whether you are a history buff or not. It’s an excellent summary of the war and does an admirable job of presenting the human elements.

I give it four Patsies, with reservations – namely the Europe-heavy focus and the recycled bonus features. Not to mention the tasteless way Time Life markets the series.