What do we deserve?

Y'know, many Christians, myself included, have thought some pretty rotten things about themselves. Mostly, self-hatred.

I like what Kris Vallotton says in his book The Supernatural Ways of Royalty: Discovering Your Rights and Privileges of Being a Son or Daughter of God.

He has a lot to say on the subject, namely that as those who have accepted Jesus, we are now royalty and ought not to hate ourselves but rather to love ourselves and who God made us to be. It's about seeing ourselves in a different light.

Instead of saying "I am such a horrible person with a rotten evil heart," begin to live like the Prince or Princess that God made you to be.

'Cause man, we got it made.

For those that aren't saved, ask God who he is and what He is all about. You might be surprised at the answer. How about a call to royalty? To be a son or a daughter of the Most High of the Universe?


And that's all I have to say tonight. Sleep well. Rest. Peace.

Gerstmann-Gate

Here is an article written by a friend of mine on the Gerstmann-Gate scandal. It is a very well written piece on how a lack of journalistic integrity hurts a publication's bottom line.


Bad, Bad Boy
A story recently has caused much uproar throughout the video-game community. Gamespot, one of the largest video-game review websites, recently fired its editorial director Jeff Gerstmann under suspicious circumstances. Gamespot claims no wrongdoing, but Gerstmann was handed his pink slip shortly after giving a negative review to a game called “Kane & Lynch: Dead Men,” which is published by, Eidos, one of Gamespot's advertisers. In addition, the video review was removed from the site, and the text portion of the review has undergone several changes since its original post. Many in the video-game community think that the timing of Gamespot's actions is too coincidental, and that its refusal to comment on the issue in the days following the break of the scandal damns them further.(Joystiq)In order to gain the public's trust and increase revenue, journalistic publications must strive for honesty and integrity in their work despite the temptation of advertising dollars.

Although the facts of the case don't lead to a definitive answer, the kernel of the Gamespot-Gerstmann story reintroduces the topic of journalistic integrity into the minds of the gaming public. Supposing the allegations are true, is it a sound business move to fire a writer for giving a bad review to a sponsor? The simple answer is that it is not. The cons outweigh the pros definitively on a completely rational basis. The obvious benefit to this behavior is that being sponsor-friendly leads to higher ad revenues; but all is not well in Fist-full-of-dollars-land. Firstly, this is bad journalism, and it causes deep-cutting effects that undermine the quality of the publication. Instead of honest reviews that feel personal, the reader will be left with cookie-cutter turnouts that are more advertisement than editorial. And this in turn is bad for business, even if nobody finds out.

Most people don't like to be deceived. When a publisher deceives its reader-base, it undermines the very public that it serves. This stigmatizes the publisher and defames its brand-name.

Sponsors pay a lot of money for their ads to be shown by a publisher; the more people see the ads, the more potential buyers they will have for their product. So it makes sense then that a company would not want to sponsor a publication that essentially tells its readers not to buy that product. It also makes sense that if the publisher puts pressure on its writers to endorse its sponsor's products, then they stand to make a lot of money in ad revenue. But there is much more at play here than ad revenue. Once this course of action is decided upon, it leads down an unbeneficial path. Essentially, the benefit only continues as long as the public is unaware of this relationship. If readers find out that the publisher of their favorite reviews is being paid for giving good reviews, then it is not in their best interest to continue reading the publication: it has ceased its utility, because they are essentially getting the same information from the reviews as from the company itself. The surprising thing is, people don't have to explicitly find out about this relationship in order for it to affect their choice of reading material.

Bad journalism begets bad journalism. Once the publisher makes it clear that they will fire writers if they don't tow the company line, the quality of the reviews begins to diminish. The writing staff begins to fear standing on its integrity, because that could get someone fired. If continued firings or pressure is used, the reviewers will no longer be able to tell what their bosses expect; they will take fewer risks; they will take less interest in their assignments; the overall quality of the writing will decrease. Even if that series of events does not occur, if readers figure out that the reviews don't agree with their own sensibilities, they will stop trusting the reviews and eventually stop reading them.

Readers don't want to read reviews they can't trust, so they will naturally move to more reliable sources. Readership slowly drops as more readers catch wise. This makes the advertisers nervous; ads are definitely not going to be effective if nobody ever sees them. The demand for ad-space drops and the ad revenue with it. The publishing company is now making less money, and they have two options: fire some writers, or pay writers less money. In either case the effect is the same, the quality of the writing gets worse; either the workload increases and there is less time to do a decent job, or the staff has less motivation to produce high-quality writing.

If you lie down with dogs, you will get up with fleas; advertisers have heard this saying too. They know it is bad for business to be associated with a disreputable company. And that is exactly what lies do to whomever is caught telling them, make them disreputable. Most people are unlikely to buy a product if they think that the company selling it cannot be trusted, and this makes companies very careful about whom they do business with. This effectively can cause a major loss of ad revenue for the hypothetical review website that gets caught in this scenario. Whether or not the website has a loss in readership, the advertisers may decide to withdraw their sponsorship in order to distance themselves from the scandal. It is very easy to see what a negative impact this can have on the publisher's bottom-line.
The scenario is admittedly hypothetical, and the publisher could potentially reverse the process at any point. However, it is a road that leads only one direction; if a publisher consistently does not make journalistic integrity a priority, then it will eventually lead to the publication's financial ruin.

It all comes down to trust. If people trust a website or a publication, the publication will see it's readership increase and revenue streams grow. When a publication betrays the public trust, it becomes useless.

Recently, Gamespot issued a statement saying that Gerstmann was fired only after an internal review. The company denies any wrong-doings or that Gerstmann was fired because of the scathing review. Still, since the story broke, Gamespot's web traffic has significantly declined.(Alexa) Pandering to the advertisers costs money. It's that simple.

Glicker Returns, Gaming Steve is back!

So, for those that don't know and even for those who don't care, Gaming Steve has returned. To commemorate his return, I designed a fan-made magazine cover. Read: This is in no way whatsoever authorized, approved, recommended by, endorsed by, or has anything to do with Gaming Steve aka Stephen Glicker. It's just something I made because I love to design and I enjoyed listening to his podcast for the first time in months.

The two major graphics used in it do not belong to me. The headshot of Steve is from his website, www.gamingsteve.com, and does not belong to me. If requested, it will be taken down. Likewise, the image of Mario used is from Nintendo, straight and simple. Once again, just ask and it will be removed.

So, without further adieu, here is my magazine cover for Gaming Steve. It took between 2-3 hours to find the pictures, decide on the design, and layout the page. I used LongIsland for the Masthead, Trajan Pro for the headlines, and Existential for the subhead. There ya go. Enjoy!

So now I am a graphic designer

Did you know that? Guess what, it's true.

Here is a sample of my work. It is a simple business card with some important info blotted out (it is still in the draft stages).

Just a suggestion:

Watch the GOP democratic debates on YouTube. They are excellent. The questions are really pointed and attempt to force the GOP candidates into a specific Yes or No answer.
So, whether you are democrat, republican, or a jedi, I strongly suggest that you watch these debates ... oh, and vote Simon in 2032. I'm already preparing the signs . . .

You are worth more than a mountain of diamonds

Did you know that you are worth more than a mountain of diamonds? have you taken time to fully comprehend what it is that you are worth? So check this out, 'cause I am gonna tell you:



We have more value than everything on this planet.
One person is worth more than the universe.
A mountain of perfect diamonds couldn't buy us.
How do we know this? Jesus died for us. he was the price, and he is worth more than the everything. We are worth the price of God.
He said that we are worth Him coming to earth as frail flesh.
Worth having hunger and weakness.
Worth the worst heart wrenching pain, loving those who don't love you back.
Worth being separated from His Father (however that worked).
Worth being abandoned by his best friends.
Worth being lashed to near death with sharp whips.
Worth bleeding from His pours from stress.
Worth being tempted in the desert and the Garden of Gethsemane
Worth fasting 40 days in that desert.
Worth a plucked beard.
Worth having His clothes stolen.
Worth being humiliated by a public which had adored him just a week earlier. A public that called for his death.
We are worth the agony of His waiting for us.

How cool is that?! Get excited! That is a lot of worth!

'Been Thinkin

Yeah, I know ... dangerous.

So here's the deal. I am gonna make this blog short and sweet. A one-liner. Ready for it? Here it is:

God Likes You =)

Freewrite #4 Jack Fletcher Series pt.4

IMPORTANT: If you have not read both Freewrites #1,2, and 3, go back and read them first. The order of the freewrites is the by DATE PUBLISHED. They are not in chronological order.

Freewrite #4

Today

The clouds started to part. It had stopped raining. White moonlight shined through, reflecting off of the wet, oily street.

Jack ran down the street., not sure of where he was going. He only knew that must not go with that man, John Fischer, whom he had spoken with almost 3 minutes ago.

Something about the man's voice didn't sit right with Jack.

And what about the man he had punched? He seemed familiar, though Jack didn't know why.

Jack didn't even know if his name really was Jack. It was just a name on a wristband. Jack Fletcher, #431.

The sun would be up in a few hours. He had to get out of sight. A near barefoot man wearing all white would stand out like a sore thumb here.

Speaking of which, where was “here” exactly?

A car could be heard in the distance, gaining on Jack.It was the doctor.

Jack ran hard. The black Honda's headlights were 300 yards away, and gaining. It would only be a couple of seconds now.

Shots rang out. Jack dove to the ground, , not knowing whether this would be a leap towards heaven or a fall to hell. He expected the latter.

Bullets whizzed by on his left and right. The headlights went out.

The bullets stopped.

Jack heard a car reverse and head in the opposite direction. It was the Honda!

Jack had survived!

Jack stood up, white clothes stained black by the wet asphalt. His socks had several new holes in them and his feet had developed a few blisters. Still, he lived! And the car was gone which meant Jack could relax for a moment.

Then Jack remembered what had just happened, why the car had left.

That's when several men emerged from the two alleys ahead where the bullets had flown from.

They closed in on Jack.

Freewrite #3

IMPORTANT: If you have not read both Freewrites #1 and #2, go back and read them first. The order of the freewrites is the by DATE PUBLISHED. They are not in chronological order.

Freewrite #3

Two Weeks Ago

Three men wearing white coats stood outside the room.

The second of the three men held a clipboard.

The third clenched a black and white BIC pen.

The first held nothing.

“When did he come out of it?” said Number One.

“We're not quite sure. He seems to have no recollection of where he is or who he is.” said the second, eyes squinting behind thick, broad rimmed black glasses. He stared at his clipboard.

“The polygraph says he is telling the truth.”

“We figured that there would be memory loss. The question was never 'if,' but 'how much?' Now we know.” said the third, shrugging.

“Still,” said Number One. “We can't be too careful. We have to make sure that this worked or it'll be our heads. Put Thompson in his room. See if he can get anything first. If that doesn't work, schedule a breakout.”

“A breakout? Are you sure? We don't know what kind of condition he is in, what kind of damage he can do.” said the second.

“It's the only way we will know.” said Number One.

A Note about the Freewrites

So, here's the deal:
I write these with the first word or image that pops into my head and go from there. There isn't a story board or much of a general outline. I have a couple ideas about what I want to write, but when I say a couple of ideas, I mean a COUPLE (maybe a Few) of ideas.
Anyhow, I can't tell you exactly where the story is going because, honestly, I don't even know.

My brief disclaimer: Any characters that appear in this story have no relation to anyone in the real world. Names that actually happen to exist in the real world are simply coincidence.

So with that, let 'er roll.

Freewrite #2

IMPORTANT: READ FREEWRITE #1 BEFORE READING #2. THEY ARE IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER.

Freewrite #2

The injured man stopped crying and started to stand up.

"Here, let me help you." said Jack, with an outstretched arm, holding the baseball cap in his other hand.

The man spat on the hand. "Crazy lunatic. I Never should have listened to him. " Then the man walked off, opposite the way he had come, as if nothing had happened...

Listened to who?

A phone lying under a covered sidewalk rang. Sounds of Vivaldi's Four Seasons filled the atmosphere, underscoring the rainy weather.

Where did the phone come from?

It must have been that guy's. Strange that it landed on the sidewalk instead of the asphalt.

Jack picked up the phone.

“Who is this?” asked Jack.

“Hello Jack” answered a deep, calm voice. “How have you been? 'Things feeling a bit out of place? That's because they are Jack. Things change with time."

“Time? What do you mean? What are you talking about?” Jack responded.

“Oh? You don't remember? Jack, you've been a patient at the ward for three years. Please, come back and we will sort this all out.” said the voice.

“Ward? I don't remember any ward. Who are you?” said Jack.

“My name is John Fischer. I'm your doctor. And by the look of things you could use my help. You pack quite a punch!” said John, tone and pitch raised.

“I see. You are my doctor, and I am the simple patient who has lost his memory? That's pretty convenient. I will say, you have me on the memory bit. I can't remember a thing. But answer me this ... ” Jack said looking sideways at a black Honda across the street. A man with short, brown hair sat inside on a cellphone.

Jack looked forward.

“What kind of doctor stalks his patient?”

“The kind who cares.” said John, deeper again.

Jack glanced at the car once more. Something was different. Sitting in the passenger seat was a man in a brown fedora. It was him!

“Don't run Jack.” said John

“Run? Why would I run? You're just a doctor, right?” said Jack.

Jack ran.

Freewrite #1

Freewrite #1

Splash! Splash!

Splash Splash!

It was raining. And it was windy. And those were puddles. Puddles make noise. And he didn't want to make noise.

For man-on-the-run Jack Fletcher, this fit right in with his day. It wasn't bad enough that he was being hunted by some deranged killer. A man with blood on his hands. Quite literally.

It had been almost fifteen minutes, just past midnight, since the would-be assassin with the brown fedora had cornered him in a dark alley behind Jim's Pizza and Eatery.

Why was he chasing him? What had he done now?

This day made no sense. Neither did the white jumpsuit he was wearing or the fact that he was only wearing white socks.

Why can't I remember anything, thought Jack.

Pulling a memory over two weeks old from his brain was like wrestling a pit-bull from a raw, sirloin steak.

Forget it. 'Can't worry about that now. Stay focused Jack and we'll see if we can't keep you alive another day.

Jack rounded a blind corner. A perfect place to get the upper-hand.

Wait for it Jack. Wait for it.

Splash! Splash!

Here he comes. One more second.

A rounded head wearing a brown fedora peaked its head out of the corner.

Slam!

Knuckled flesh struck a glass jaw. A left hook connected with the man's nose. The fedora went flying.

The man hit the ground. Out cold. But that didn't stop the blood from gushing out of the assassin's broken nose.

Jack followed the blood as it mixed with rainwater and flowed downhill, across the street.

Jack stood, bewildered.

Did I just do that?

The man's eyelids cracked open. His mouth followed close behind.

“Ahhhhhh!” screamed the man. Though whether it was a cry of pain or a cry of anger, Jack didn't know.

Tears began to flow down the man's face. His wails grew louder.

No, thought Jack, this is definitely not the sound of anger This man is in pain! Well, serves him right for trying to kill me.

Jack kneeled down to get a closer look at the man who could have been his end. Who would dare try to kill him? Who had the guts? Didn't this guy know who he was?

I wish he did. At least then I might be able to get some answers.

Jack stood still for a second and looked at the man directly in the eyes, and recoiled.

This isn't him! This isn't the same person!

Jack looked over at where the fedora had landed, except it wasn't a fedora. It was a New York Yankees baseball cap.

What is going on? thought Jack.