Small Mercy

The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far. The sciences, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the light into the peace and safety of a new dark age.

-H.P. Lovecraft

A long break, and now some Lovecraft. There is sad news attached to this post - Guillermo Del Toro's (which I spelled right first try, bitches) At the Mountains of Madness was cancelled. I was really looking forwards to that, even if Tom Cruise was sort of attached. But now I guess I'll have to settle for a prequel to The Thing.
In slightly happier news, I received a random comment from a stranger who seemed to enjoy my dead-for-three-months blog. So that was nice, and is completely unrelated to me writing again today. Promise. You might also care to remember I'm a compulsive liar.

I've also discovered that what I put things in writing, I'm far more likely to actually do them. On that note...

COMING SOON: My very delayed thoughts on Alan Wake, and the even-more-delayed final leg of my trip to the US, and some pictures of books that I own. Maybe even some stuff from a short story I'm working on. You know, if I get to the point where 'working on' means 'has written some'.

Chips

The picture you see here was the closest I got to the Statue of Liberty, and it was taken in Vegas. It sits outside of a casino most creatively and a trifle redundantly called New York New York, along with facsimiles of the Brooklyn Bridge, Empire State Building, and other such things.

I found it fairly funny that even with half a country in between, I still couldn't get away from the Chrysler Building.

Vegas though, Vegas was very much the opposite of New York. In Manhattan, there were people more or less everywhere, and they all seemed in a hurry and unable to walk in a straight line. When the streets across the entire island are in a neat grid, not being able to follow a straight path is a bigger handicap than you'd think. Everyone here was really just meandering around, looking at all the bright lights and feeding slot machines and alcoholism. But anyhow, we were in Vegas for less than half the time we stayed in New York, but I still think we got through a whole lot.

I did mention a while back it was hard to convey the scope of Manhattan, the people and the buildings, but Vegas one upped that. I always had the impression that casinos were big, but these things were BIG. Our rooms were in the MGM Grand, on the 6th floor, and to get to the cafe where we ate breakfast, on the other end of the building, was close to a 10 minute walk. This, I discovered, was a small casino.

The two shopping complexes alone attached to The Venetian and Caesar's Palace were both bigger than the MGM Grand. And the actual shopping mall at the end of the strip. It was very easy to get lost inside these things. I did find the coolest shop inside the Venetian's shops though, Bauman's Rare Books. They had a window display with more first editions than I have actual books. This is made all the more impressive if you know that I have a lot of books.

On the second night we were in Vegas, I saw what was possibly the highlight of the trip for me. We were all agreed in that we wanted to see a show, and one thing led to another so we wound up with Copperfield tickets. The man is now my new hero. In addition to being the devil and summoning cars and motorcycles and ducks with his devil-powers, he was a fantastic entertainer and really just a funny, funny guy. If we were there for another night, I'd've pushed to see his show again. I enjoyed it that much.

I think the biggest point of culture shock came when I realised we'd hit a city that had never heard of RSA or RCG. There were ads put up in the airport proclaiming how much money had been given away on their slot machines, and inviting you to play. Because, apparently, you could already be a winner. I think this registered a little more than the other side of things, because that came after I carried a Margarita slushie the size of my arm through the casino, outside, and into another casino. Where I could buy dirt-cheap refills.

I can see why people like this city.

Leaving New York

Call it jetlag finally getting the best of me, or maybe just being too consumed with other things, or maybe even you bastards not commenting, but I decided I'd wrap up my tales of exploration and adventure from the comfort of my own couch.

The picture of the olde timey newspaper vending machine you see here wasn't actually taken in NYC. It's from a store at Universal Studios in LA, but I thought it was funny, so you will find it endearing or else, so help me God.

Our last few days in New York went fairly quickly, all things considered. We spent one day split between the Met and the Museum of Natural History, the latter of which was nothing like a certain movie had led me to believe and the former of which was just fantastic. I only wound up seeing about half of the Met, but it was enough. I would award it the title of my favourite place in New York, if it wasn't for the Majestic, the library or Rockefeller Plaza. Yeah, it was a strong shortlist.

We were in town for Thanksgiving, and I had the very great privilege of seeing Spider-Man's ass as he floated by about a block down the road. While the day wasn't quite the let down that New Year's Eve is, it ran a close second. The upside was that if you weren't one of the knuckledraggers watching the parade, you pretty much had the run of Midtown. So after seeing the complete anticlimax provided by Macy's, we went back up to 30 Rock and took some photos.

We also saw Phantom of the Opera that night, which improved the day substantially. It was a really great show, even if it did feel like it was missing a second act, and the Phantom totally had his own rape dungeon.

Speaking of Macy's, the Black Friday sales marked our final day in the city, and ye gods. While things weren't exactly the astronomical bargains we were led to believe, it would seem that several other million people were led to believe the same thing, and converged on 34th and 7th like carrion on a fresh cadaver. It was almost impossible to move in places.

Our flight out had us leave the hotel at about 5.30am, but given that I was crashing at about 6pm and rising at 4am, that wasn't as big an issue as my sleeping patterns. Stay tuned for more All-american fun!

Skyscrapers

Today I did the tourist thing and rode an open-air bus around town. And two things occur to me as I type this. Firstly: It's near impossible to take a bad photo of this city. Secondly, those beers I just had got me pretty fucking drunk. I'm having trouble locating certain keys and typing is taking longer than I should.

We did buy cheap electronics today, which was good, because it meant I got to spend a whole bunch of the bus ride playing with the new digital SLR camera. It's very pretty, if a little on the huge side.

Luckily enough though, the camera store was on the opposite side of the road to the New York Public Library, which is without a shadow of a doubt the prettiest building I have ever set foot in. It's all marble and engraved ceilings and statues, and surprisingly few books in the interim. Although I still donated, and purchased from the store, because libraries.

The tour took us through most of Midtown, which we'd seen, and down through Greenwich Village, Soho, and the like. You could almost take the steady decline in annual income, but the buildings themselves never lost character. It was kind of crazy seeing things like the original Macy's, which was pretty much three floors that ran about 10m wide, or the fact that the Manhattan Bridge is close to the exact height of the Empire State Building. Like I said, impossible to take a bad photo of this city. Especially because you can see the Chrysler building from pretty much anywhere.

Saw the Flatiron too, which, I am not ashamed to say, made comics much cooler.

But this brings me to the real news of the day. For dinner, I had these strips of steak on garlic bread with Chiplote sauce and melted cheese. Ye gods it was delicious.

Have another photo. I have a ton of them.

Peanuts and Crackerjacks

I’ve found a stable WiFi connection in the hotel room, so the past series of backdated entries is brought to you courtesy of Yale Library. In fact, there are so many unsecured WiFi connections floating around, I’m pretty sure I now have some kind of testicular supercancer. But because of my patronage of Yale, they best discover a cure for that.

I did get those pancakes, but they weren’t as fantastic and meaty as I’d dreamed, sadly. It was a lovely place right near Grand Central, which led directly to today’s adventure and a phrase I never thought I’d utter in all my days. I miss CityRail.

Dad and I caught the subway out to Yankee Stadium for a behind the scenes tour. It wasn’t the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but they didn’t exactly make it easy. The signage was kept to a bare minimum, so in the end (and after a near miss with a closing door) we just jumped on a train heading towards the Bronx. Turns out, that once you’re actually on a train they just throw information at you like they’re monkeys armed with feces. There were announcements and displays of each stop, as well as a lit route diagram showing where this train stopped on the line and the direction it was travelling. So we got to Yankee Stadium with a minimum of fuss.

Then we subsequently dropped a ton of cash in the Team Store before the tour.
The stadium itself was just phenomenal. It was colossal, the photos can’t convey the scope of the place. It was huge, and pristine and really just awesome in the truest sense of the word. This was the inner wall of the concourse, before you entered the stadium proper. Yeah, it had two walls.

It really was an experience, seeing the museum and Monument Park, the way that it’s nothing short of modern-day hero worship. But they didn’t do the thing half-arsed. The big display in the middle of the museum was a recreation of the World Series perfect game with a wall of baseballs running from the mound to home plate. The wall was an ongoing project, see, because they want a ball signed by every Yankee. They have about 60% with the 870-odd balls already there.
We did see two things that are quite rare for tour groups. The first was the press box, which was pretty cool. The second was seeing Yankee stadium done up like a Football pitch for a series of college games. They actually tore down the dugouts and put up nets for the game. That was a sight. Not exactly a good one, but it’ll certainly stick with me. It’s apparently a big deal for the city, though. The Notre Dame band – not the team, the 500 strong marching band – got given their own subway train to travel to the game. The tour guide said he’d never before seen that happen with anything in his life.
Then we had lunch, and I had one of the best burgers I have ever eaten. The coffee is all really good too. I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do when I head home.

The other thing I’ve noticed is that all the service people are just so nice. Even when you have a free lunch with gratuity included. They just seem so happy. It’s a little off-putting. Our room cleaner even leaves thank you notes after she’s done. With smileys on.

However Far We Travel

It seems no matter how far you go from home, there will always be those little reminders, be they reliquaries that hang from rearview mirrors in the greater Bankstown area or on the front of hotels where their very presence confuses and delights. Like this:

The hotel, in these close-to-waking hours (seriously, I’m up before six. Again), is very nice. I’m currently sitting in the drawing room under a portrait of Robin Williams in Night at the Museum and listening to remixes of Christmas carols. I’ve had worse mornings.

Yesterday was my first real day exploring the city and it was far, far better than the flight and 1am pizza. Though I shouldn’t really have to say that. The Roosevelt, where we’re staying, is pretty damn centrally located in Midtown, although all these hotels seem to be within one or two blocks of each other anyway, so it’s nothing special.

What is special is the fact that I’m within a 5 minute walk of the Chrysler building, St. Pat’s Cathedral, Time Square, Grand Central, Rockefeller Plaza…

It’s pretty astounding how close together all these things are, to be honest. I guess I’m too accustomed to Sydney’s CBD where anything worth doing is located no closer than 15 minutes from anything else. But New York just looks so much better. The height on these buildings is just phenomenal, they will literally delay the dawn an hour or so in some places. And they’re just so nice to look at. I could probably spend the better part of a week just walking around with a camera and taking pictures of gargoyles and cornices. What else is really hard to wrap my head around is just how easy it is to navigate the city. Avenues and Streets, a near-perfect grid. Just know how to a) count and b) walk.

My favourite thing so far was most definitely the relief over the doors of Rockefeller Center:
It will probably be my wallpaper for some time.

Perhaps even better than Rockefeller was the Lego store there. Yes. Lego store. I had to exercise all my willpower not to load up and walk out, but it was a sight to behold. It was like they took every major landmark that sat outside the store, and recreated it with Lego. I think I might have enjoyed it more if the store itself wasn’t packed with toddlers, which made me feel more like the creepy guy who watches the kids in candy stores, rather than the child himself. But we can’t have it all.

What we can have though, is McDonalds. I partook of the fabled McRib, which was exactly what it sounds like. It was a rib sandwich. I don’t really want to think about how they did it, but it tasted exactly like BBQ pork ribs on a roll. I think, if nothing else, that was the proof that everything is bigger over here. Sure, the skyscrapers dwarf anything Sydney can muster, but ye gods man, the fries came in a packet I could have worn as a hat. And for those of you who know just how big my head actually is…

I did find a bookstore and at a friend’s recommendation, a comic store just two blocks from where we were staying. At the bookstore, I picked up Side Jobs and a leather bound complete Shakespeare. Billy S set me back $20. Trust me to travel 12,000 kilometres and then buy discount books once I arrive. From the comic store, I also picked up something for $20 – a Marvel Premiere #15 (a.k.a. Iron Fist). I was quite happy with that, and chances are I’ll go back there for some Christmas shopping.

We hit Times Square just as it was going dark. All the bright lights and flashy things weren’t really as inspiring as I’d expected, but then I’m neither a toddler nor goldfish. That isn’t to say it wasn’t impressive, but it was more of an idle fascination than anything that struck me with awe. The best way of describing it is that it was the biggest ad break I have ever seen. Everything was moving and selling me things and assaulting the senses with reckless consumerism.

The best thing to look at was probably the American Eagle setup, given that they’d plastered two full walls of the building, a smaller recess in the bottom corner and the tower above it. With screens. The thought of the power consumption was a little sickening, even thought I might a little want one of those screens. Given renovation would probably be necessary, and it’d put me way over my luggage limit, I’ll just keep dreaming of pancakes made of meat. No joke, I did have that dream last night.

And now I want pancakes.

The Necessary Lift

Here's me, outside our hotel looking all jetlagged.

I have discovered hell, and its name is airline travel. It all started well enough. We left Sydney International in reasonably high spirits, even if we didn’t leave it $800 richer: Our flight was oversold, or so we were informed, and we were offered $800 each to catch a flight departing 6 hours after the one we’d booked. I was all for it, given I’m a greedy and/or cheap bastard, and that amount of money is nothing to sneeze at. Unfortunately, the airline rep was wrong and we had to be connecting at LA, not San Francisco. Or maybe he knew all along as was just a prick like that.

I do have to applaud United Airlines on my flight to San Francisco, given that they managed to provide me with what I can categorically name the absolute worst 12 hours I have ever had. The flight left Sydney at around 4 in the afternoon, so the plan was to have a few hours of settling in, and then grab what shut-eye I could. I wound up getting change from 30 minutes, and I’m pretty sure my right knee has been permanently disfigured by what passed for leg room.

Still, the 747 chased the noonday sun for the better share of a day, which is all nice and quixotic and the like. The plane itself did do one thing well, which was black out the windows and dim the lighting when it should have been night time. Given the seating arrangements though, I’m fairly sure this was just a method of slow torture. “Ahahah, it is night time and you may not sleep.”

Some of you may remember that I’d been planning to video all these musings, but I didn’t for two reasons. In landing at San Francisco International, I looked like a pack of greased baboons had just had their way with me, and I was operating on as little sleep as I knew how. But I pressed on. I pulled out that camera…

…and was promptly told to put it away by airport security. If nothing else, I was sure I was in America. So you get the written word, which far better captures my views on things anyhow. The connecting flight was much, much better – if only for the fact I didn’t need to study yoga to fit in the crevasse between my seat at the one in front. I grabbed some sleep and all but finished one of the two novels I had packed, and found myself feeling much better about life. It’s amazing the difference two hours’ sleep can make.

We were set to land at about 9pm local time at JFK, and the sight of the city outside the plane window almost made the ordeal worth it. At least, it would have if we hadn’t been supremely dicked around and sent to three different terminals looking for our shuttle to the hotel. We found it eventually, then got told we had to call and book one, despite our booking. We were treated to the chauffer stylings of New York, which I much confess were unique. Bankstown be ashamed of yourself, for nothing you do can trump what I saw in that (for some, unknowable reason) 2 hour drive. We were led through a bunch of useless stops, shown how to ignore both red and green lights, and received a demonstation of cutting off someone turning right when we were in the left lane. Bankstown, please don’t take that as a challenge.

It couldn’t all be bad though. We arrived at the Roosevelt Hotel while it was still Saturday, and ravenous, we watched SNL and ordered up some pizzas doing their best impersonation of really big, round things. I’m still a bit too drained to trope. But the pizza was damn good.

Since I had the temerity to scoff at jetlag, it now seems to be taking slow revenge as I type this on the pre-dawn side of 6am. I could have sworn I was tired a half a dozen hours ago, but I guess the fabled sleep-in wasn’t meant to be.

I can see dawn-reddened bricks outside my hotel room window, which means that today is here. New York beckons, and if nothing else, today’s sure to be better than yesterday, which is technically today. Stupid timezones.

I Am The Night

I have this book. The Batman Handbook. It's a must read for any vigilante billionaire that dreams of wearing a hooded cowl and striking fear in the hearts of the criminal underbelly of whatever city he hails from.

Yeah, it's pretty hilarious. The thing is much of the humour comes from the fact it treads the fine line between serious and parody.

Anyway, something I found funnier than it should have been:

Ten Phobias Batman Doesn't Have:

Agliophobia: Fear of Pain

Batophobia: Fear of heights of being close to high buildings

Cleisiophobia: Fear of being locked in an enclosed space

Dikephobia: Fear of justice

Epistemophobia: Fear of knowledge

Geliophobia: Fear of laughter

Nyctophobia: Fear of the dark or the night

Scelerophobia: Fear of burglars or criminals

Thanatophobia: Fear of death or dying

Venustraphobia: Fear of beautiful women

Yeah.

For Want Of A Nail

I post too much SMBC. But then, it is hilarious.

Mocktopus

Yeah, we're fucked.