October 16, 2006

  • //Justification

    I am a terrible liar. I am an honest guy not because of a kind heart, but because lying takes too much work. I mean, I'd have to make shit up to avoid responsibility or to look good, and then make up more lies to cover up the original lies? Screw that!
     
    Being honest, of course, makes me a dick, because my often honest response to someone seeking an opinion isn't what he/she wanted to hear, even when deep down he/she already knew the truth of the matter that is involved. Hoping, in this case, most of the time, is just denial.
     
    Response. That's where I draw the line when it comes to being a dick. I don't instigate things to make people feel that way about me. As long as a person does not pull any boneheaded action that affects me, he/she will not see the harsh side of me.
     
    Like I said: that's where the line is drawn between me and someone who makes bonehead moves.
     
    There are still quite a bit of empty land around the area I work in, even though the Asian population is at a ever high increasing rate. The business district is stuck in the middle of residential towns, but by the layout of the streets, it's almost impossible to see people passing about the streets unless they work in there.
     
    Which is why I find it odd to have seen a stray dog with a nice looking collar this past friday, during my break. It was well taken care off and friendly. It walked up to me and wanted some attention. I like dogs. Even if it had been a hard week, I can still spare some time for it. But before I have a chance to look at its name tag, a soda flew by me and hit the dog, scaring it and made it run away. I looked over toward the direction of the passage and I saw a coworker from the sales department.
     
    Me: "Why did you do that?!"
    Him: "I don't want it here."
    Me: "You didn't have to hit it!"
    Him: "Well, don't be coming to me if he can't take it."
     
    I went off on him. What the fuck did the dog ever do to you? It didn't come to you. It came to me! Did it bark at you? No. Did it try to bite you? No. Where do you fucking get off to tell the dog not to mess with you when it was never its intention?!
     
    The dog returned to see me the next break. It turned out that it belonged to an executive at the next building. As a professional curteousy, I didn't tell the owner that a bonehead sales person bullied her dog. Besides, the guy already pee'd on his pants because my words stunned more than my fists.
     
    We were both dicks. But I'd never start shit like he did. As I told my buddy earlier today, it's just like I'd never say a girl has problems unless she asked me about her problems, or bothered to mess with her on a consistent basis. It's not called for.
     
    Pss... did you say I didn't sleep with her,  buddy? Now, why would you still call me a pimp if you find that true?

October 11, 2006

  • 想跟妳一起過

    不論我們年少輕狂衝動是否錯

    只要妳陪著我     所有傷心和難過

    都會在妳手中找到寄託

     

    想跟妳一起過

    就算世界讓妳走投無路還有我

    緊握妳的雙手     安心靠在我懷中

    同心協力分享歡喜和憂愁

October 10, 2006

  • //Just Like This But Different?!

    Why do managers think they can get away with minimum amount of work? These people continue to walk up to my desk wth a "I am a designer" attitude, tripping and demanding for control, when in reality have no clear idea of what they want for the projects or what it takes to get a project done.

    A typical day for me is when the marketing "director" comes up to me with a sample item from a name brand she likes and tells me that she wants to create a new line of product:

    Me: "So what's the name of the line?"
    Her: "We don't know yet."
    Me: "What kinda items do we have?"
    Her: "That's being researched."
    Me: "Flavors of the fragrance?"
    Her: "We haven't decided yet. But think ice cream and go from that."

    Well, at least we have a theme. It may sound good enough to people that have no idea how to design, but it actually does not give me any clear direction at all.

    Without a name, what do I use ti design a logo?! Do I just type in "blah blah"? What's the point of making a logo with temporary placement names when the finalized name may not look good in the same font? If the font style doesn't fit the final version of the logo, then why spend so much time on a preliminary logo that just won't fit?

    And it's not "We don't know." It's really just her. These kinda people love to claim credit for any success in place of their team, but drag other people down with them when things aren't going well.

    When "we" don't know how many pieces of items there will be for the theme, it means we cannot design the packaging for the whole set, because we don't know how big the box holding the items needs to be.

    Without knowing the type of items in the line up, how do I design the labels for each of them? The sizes of the labels? What good is the design if I had designed it for a bottle when the final item turns out to be a tube?

    And "ice cream". Ice cream?! Oh, that really clears it up. I am just gonna go ahead and design the whole project with a color palette for a chocolate ice cream, only to have to do the whole thing over when she decided to make the line up strawberry flavored.

    The best part about situations like this? The marketing lady hands me the sample item and assume everything is as easy as done. She'll tell me "I want our design to look just like this, except different."

    ......

    If that doesn't prove she has no clue of what she wants, I don't know what will. Essentially, she just threw something she likes at me so she can claim later that whatever I design started off from her inspiration.

    I don't know where these people get off believing that they are so capable.

October 9, 2006

  • //An Artwork A Convention

    At least one new artwork for each convention, no matter how busy my day job gets. My friend, Jose, from a fan's perspective, suggested on what I should do to make the fans of my work feel worthwhile to see me at every convention I go to.
     
    I've been told that I am lazy. I've been told that I don't carry my weight when it comes to working as a team player. I've been told that I am not cut out for this line of work. I've been told that I should try a different career. I've been told that my artwork isn't good. Not just "not good enough." Not good.
     
    Even with full time job, I still have new artwork to show at each of the six conventions I went to within the last 12 months. That's five more conventions than most people with or without jobs to even attend. My artwork may not be good, but Mattel, Hasbro and Nicklodeon liked them. My sketchbooks have proven how much work I've done, and the best thing the hater could come up with was an attempt to sue me for the "never did any work" I've done.
     
    Some people are just not gonna accept my hands in friendship and generosity. I can do all the work for the team, still be kicked off, and then hear through mutual friends that I've been completely antagonized to shoulder the blame.
     
    It was an attempt to hurt me: To knock me down so I can feel just as untalented and average as he actually is. I suppose when one didn't earn his spot on a team, he would want to kick off anybody on the team that would reveal his true colors.
     
    That's why no matter how tired I get from my day job, I will spend time to have something new for each convention I go to. I'll make him eat the crap and drink the piss that he tried to dump on me for his personal gains.
     
    And this is what is being worked on for WWTX:

October 5, 2006

October 3, 2006

  • //...A bit more on Infernal Affairs

    Ms. Ami Chang, the most hittable attention whore on Xanga... err, I mean, the Xanga member with the most hits, brought up that the 2003 acclaimed film Infernal Affairs, which The Departed is based on, had two sequels. Actually, IF2 was a prequel, and IF3 was a sequel.

    These films were both, for the lack of a better word, crap. Infernal Affairs was clearly a complete film by itself, without a need to wrap up "loose ends" since that is just the way life is like among corruptions in our society. The two movies that follwed, whether planned ahead of the time or not, just looked like something to milk more money out of fans of the first movie. *cough* Star Wars *cough*

    In general, I just don't get excited for prequels on a movie. I dislike the fact that I would have to sit through 2+ hours of a film watching a series of events that inevitably just lead to an ending I already know about. When characters you didn't see from the "previous" movie showed up, you already know that they are to be killed or somehow fell off the face of the Earth. It only hurts me so much to watch honest people getting murdered so many times. Attempting to recreate that sentiment was... futile, to say the least.

    The 3rd movie, without going too much into details, or the need to go into details, served just like a long aftermath of the first movie, trying to throw timeline around to confuse people in an attempt to create suspense.

    If you choose to ignore my warnings, be prepared feel like you want the wasted time in your life back.

    Oh, Ami, I am kidding about the "whore" thing.

October 2, 2006

  • //Departing From The Infernal

    Come this friday, THE DEPARTED will become many people's favorite movie...

    It's also one of my favorite movies of all time... except it was called INFERNAL AFFAIRS...


    Martin Scorsese is a favorite director of mine since his work was introduced to me in film school. Hopefully, the exponentially bigger budgetted film stays faithful to the original. For those of you who can't wait, go check out the original movie.

September 26, 2006

  • //The Distance Of A Sky

    "Why do people measure distance with time?"
     
    Sitting in the rain on a September afternoon, she popped the question.
     
    "Time is what drove us apart," She continued. "Why do people use something invisible to our eyes to determine a physical measurement such as distance?"
     
    I sat there, stunned. I have no answer for her.
     
    "Perhaps the distance itself isn't meant to be physical as well," I speculated. "Perhaps time is not meant to be a unit of physical measurement in such context…"
     
    Her eyes lit up, as if my words hit the jackpot, "Interesting. Go on."
     
    Intelligent and curious, it's what I loved about her.
     
    I took a deep breath, organized my thoughts a bit, and tried to make as much sense as possible as I elaborate my speculation in the conversation.
     
    "Two people are driven apart because one of them changed at a faster pace than the other. Very often the change takes away one of the most important thing between two people, and that's sharing. When two people are no longer sharing the same dreams and ideals in life, they are bound to be driven apart."
     
    "And time?" Happy with what she has heard so far, she pressed on.
     
    "Time took the blame for the change, when in reality no one is to be blamed, because growing up is inevitable." I looked at her with a light sadness in my eyes.
     
    "Ever the objective one," She smiled. "It's what I love about you."
     
    "But it's also what I hate about you." She leaned into me. "I can never win an argument against you without being unreasonable."
     
    "Come on. We're gonna be late for your flight." I firmly wrapped my fingers around hers as I stood up, not knowing when I would be able to see her and her radiant smile again.
     
    "How come people never use the sky as a unit of measurement?" She followed with another question.
     
    Because they've never known, that the minute the airplane leaves the ground, you and I are kept apart from each other by the distance of a sky.

September 20, 2006

  • //Run that by me again?

    Wednesday night is always something I look forward to: It's basketball night.
     
    The truth is that I've been so outta shape from attending to my injuries that I am really just a shadow of my former self when it comes to my game. My foot speed is not back up from nursing my ankle injuries, and it drives me nuts that I couldn't stay in front of this young kid that I would've been able to keep up with a year ago. On top of that, I am still taking it pretty easy since my wrist hurts every time I snap it on a jump shot. So I don't shoot much during the games. Instead I would move without the ball to upset the defense here and there to create more spacing for my teammates, provided that the teammates I ended up with actually have the sense to position themselves for the opportunity. I don't bang down low fighting for rebounds, either. That's a rather big part of my game, considering that I usually average 6 rebounds per every 11-point game. And it's not so much that the old men my friend and I play with play dirty under the rim. It's the fact that I could never get to the position I want to be at to rebound the ball because the old men playing on my team, whom are horrible rebounders, wouldn't get outta the way.
     
    Before you criticize me for being harsh on the old guys: Being old is not the issue in this game, because everyone is equally as old. Having bad basketball IQ (which I constantly beat into another one of my friends about) is. I am not anywhere as talented as half of the players I play against. But one thing I can always do better than most people is anticipating what my options are in front of me. Being at the right place at the right time, after all, is half of the battle.
     
    What makes my time miserable is the fact that one of the old guys there always deliberately split up my friend and me, making what can be somewhat a reasonable "team" game into "we're splitting you up so the passing game will be nonexistent." Think of my friend and I as a set Yugio Cards. Use us individually, we each provide a solid 50 battle points. Put us together, we end up with 225 battle points since more dimensions of our games go into effect, such as passing, pick-n-roll, motion without the ball, effective floor spacing, and finding the teammate that is moving without the ball.
     
    The thing is: 99% of the time when we're split up, my friend ends up with another good player, usually a "finisher". I just end up with, well, the old hog that splits us up.
     
    So last wednesday I took the liberty to ask the old guy what his reasoning was behind splitting my friend and I up. His exact response to me was, "I want you on my team because you're a finisher. [Friend] and I are both good ball handlers and passers. If I put him and I on the same time, the games would be too one sided."
     
    What? WHAT?!!?
     
    Did he just look at me with a straight face and told me that he's a good ball handler and passer? He, the old hog that has no control with his dribbling or shooting? He, the old hog that never finds an open player besides the one he's staring at?
     
    WHAT?!
     
    I am a finisher because I have no one to pass to on my team, you dolt!
     
    And he never did answer me truthfully about what would happen when my friend and I are put on the same team.

  • //What The Deuce?

    I just don't get these managers. How do they sleep at night, or live on their lives, knowing that they're full of crap and have no true skills?
     
    When I first started my current contract, the manager of the department I started at (let's call him "Retardo"), for some unknown reason, always had a lot of negative things to say about me, without ever seeing me work, or even meeting me for that matter. He started off questioning the department art director whether I am actually any help to the graphic production, without looking into what I do. Then went on about me not being very social (I was busy trying to save his ass to make a deadline). He even went on to ask the department's art director and designer whether or not I was gay, because I dress well.
     
    Yep. You guessed it. He's gay. Being gay, however, isn't the problem. Acting like he's a plastic from the highschool in the movie, Mean Girls, is. A BIG Problem. You try going through work everyday having a 200 pound drama queen in a man's body acting like a diva and saying "whatever!" every other conversation.
     
    Yeah. You wish I was gay, you high maintenance whore.
     
    Of course, the department art director couldn't put up with him. She quit. Then a week later, the department designer couldn't take it anymore. She quit. All of sudden, I went from "Henry doesn't do any work." to "Henry's the best balance between quality and speed!"
     
    What the deuce?!
     
    As new designers came in to fill the opened up positions, an opening in another department came onto the horizon for me. The head art director of all departments likes my work and attitude enough to want me to fill the opening. So as I weigh my options about moving over, the head art director went to speak to Retardo about my reassignment. Retardo's reaction was, to say the least, retardedly self-absorbing. "I discovered Henry..." (He didn't) "I trained him..." (He didn't) and "I gave him the opporunity to grow..." (and then took credit for my work, yes) were his exact words when faced against the fact that he's losing his designer to another department. He even threatened to take certain opportunity away from me should I choosed to leave. I left anyway.
     
    Of course, to "prove" that he still has some power, he deliberately assigned two mascot-designing projects to the new designers. The difference between graphic designers and me? They can't draw. So naturally, they came to me at every stage of design for me to revise their work. But ultimately, these designers are not illustrators, or else they wouldn't be designers. And the characters' final art? Choppy, laughable, and unprofessional.
     
    So this is how a manager demonstrates professionalism. He'd sabatage a project and put the company's money and reputation at risk, for a silly personal satisfaction.