Blog Update

Hello to all you loyal readers who have been repeatedly hitting F5 since last September.  Adam here, you know, Addman.  That guy who does the thing.  Now you remember!  I just wanted to let you know that I haven't given up on Blogging and that Calmer Chameleons is still on the way.  Let it be known that Adam Lloyd is not a quitter!  That's why I dropped out of rehab.

I didn't want to fill this space with unfunny life updates, but I feel that you fine folks deserve a few answers surrounding my mysterious absence.  Basically, the design for Calmer Chameleons is done, but I haven't been able to conjure up any particularly good content to put on it.  This is mainly due to life commitments that have grown exponentially, as I shall list in tedious detail here.

So I've moved to Manchester, or as Manchester University professor Brian Cox would call it, the city of D:reams.  Upon arrival, the natives welcomed us in their traditional tribalistic fashion by stealing a laptop from the person who was helping us move.  Apparently, it is an honour to be greeted in this manner.

While we've settled into Mancunian life in the weeks since, unfortunately, I've still been working 70 miles away, so there have been lots of commutes and nights away.  There have also been lots of interviews to try and find work in Manchester (which, despite a number of jobs, they all seem to be taken by cabal of psychic job hunters before anyone has the opportunity to apply.  Perhaps this down to a series of uncles that have been blocking my social mobility. Either way, after a couple of false starts, it looks like I'll finally be starting a new job closer to home over the next few weeks.

For most of my free time over the last few months, I've been hunting the deadliest game of all; employment.  Some say that mankind is the deadliest game, but those people clearly haven't played Jumanji.  However, The rest of my free time has been taken up with an entirely different occupation.

I've been playing at being a journalist.  Namely, the laziest type of journalist of them all, the video games journalist.  I started writing for an independent games website called Power Up Gaming back in August, and since then I have been made an Associate Idiot-I mean Editor.  They even let me write my own biography, the fools!  I've covered events, conducted interviews, and committed my opinion on more than one occasion.  In the short span of time that I've been writing for them, the site has grown tremendously and now gets tens of thousands of hits every month.  I contribute this success entirely to myself, and am planning to overthrow the website in a militaristic coup to take what is rightfully mine.  You can support my endeavour by looking at the articles I've linked and sharing them appropriately.

So this is all well and good, but when will my triumphant return to Blogging commence?  Well, I'm writing again, which is a decent start, and I expect to launch Calmer Chameleons in the new year.  Monday the 5th of Jan looks like a good day, so let's go with that for now.  Appropriate links will be posted here so that you can follow and fan my flagging ego with praise and adoration.  Until then, stay slinky.

We’re Going Through Changes

Those of you with memories may remember a post that I made a few weeks ago. I posted to say that Muppets For Justice would be going through some dramatic changes.  Muppets For Justice will no longer be Muppets For Justice and Addman will no longer be Addman.  Green will no longer be a colour on any observable scale, and all human endeavours shall be rendered null and void on a grander cosmic scale.

So yes, big changes are underfoot.  This Blog will be having a full redesign and the name is changing.  After weeks of speculation, I can now reveal the new name that I’ve settled on:

Calmer Chameleons!

This name change is important for many reasons.  Firstly, some of my early MfJ postings were pointlessly furious and politically charged, which is something I wanted to distance myself from a little bit (hence the name Calmer).  Secondly, Chameleons are famous for changing colour, just like the standalone, disconnected posts I intend to produce. Thirdly, and most importantly, it is an amusing pun.

I will also be changing my name on my Blogger profile, so don’t expect to see Addman appearing on your comments feeds anymore.  The veil has finally been lifted on the world's worst kep secret, and I can reveal my true identity:

Oops, sorry, I mean:

Hello, my name is Adam and my hobbies include writing, hiking, watching films, and drive bys on playa haters.

I’m sure that you all feel much closer to me now.  Can you feel me near you, breathing in your ear?  Whispering the lyrics to your favourite 80’s kids TV shows?  Please excuse the garlic.

So when is all of this going to happen?  I’ll be experimenting next week with the design and trying to make Calmer Chameleons look acceptable.  I intend to create a new Blog from scratch which may or may not be on Blogger. Please bear with me while I tinker with the damn, dirty thing and I’ll let you know as soon as I know.

Until then, things will be quiet around here until the new Blog launches. I intend to launch by the end of September, possibly sooner, but this is subject to change.  If you're feeling a little lost without regular updates from me, feel free to browse the extensive back catalogue of MfJ in the meantime, or perhaps you would like to enjoy this beautiful ballad about change:

Thank you all for putting up with my crap and I look forward to seeing you all on the other side.

The Scarab Beetle Challenge

“Thank you Carl for nominating me.  I nominate Liz Harlow, Jamie T, and Graham!  Good luck everyone!”

This was my first exposure to the scarab beetle challenge.  Dave promptly plunged a bucket full of clicking, hissing death onto himself, scattering scarab beetles all over himself and his bathroom floor. As I watched the video of ravenous insects burrowing their way into my best friend’s flesh, I couldn’t help but wonder at the futility of it all.  Sure, the challenge was raising awareness for people who have been eaten from the inside out by scarab beetles, and it was raising money for charity, but I wasn’t sure if this was the best way to highlight their plight.

Dave’s agonised panting faded away as the video cut to black.  I clicked on a suggested video which depicted another friend violently maiming themselves for a good cause.  As Gemma’s soft tissues were converted into delicious homes for another family of hungry beetles, I still found the video content shocking, but already the impact had been lessened.  After witnessing another 5 of these videos, I became desensitised to it completely.  People were being eaten alive in front of my glazed eyes, and yet I felt totally numb to their pain.  By the 6^th video I wasn’t sure why I was watching these voyeuristic torture films anymore.  YouTube’s suggestions had already taken me far outside of my circle of friends, and I found myself watching unknown randoms performing the challenge.  The videos started to blur into one cacophony of human misery.  I idly clicked the next link and waited for the content to finish buffering.

“Hi, I’m Ramon.  Today I will be doing the scarab challenge on behalf of cancer research!”

Wait, that’s not in the rules.  I thought the point was to raise money and awareness for people injured by scarab beetles.  I was appalled that someone dared to hijack this good cause on behalf of another charity.  I mean, cancer already has a lot of charities devoted to it, but there is not enough done to aid the historians who find themselves the victims of flesh-eating booby traps in dusty Egyptian tombs.  As a beetle burrowed noisily into Ramon’s brain, I clicked the video away out of disgust.  That charlatan wouldn’t be getting any more Internet traffic from me!

At that point I received an alert to say that I had been tagged in a video online.  I clicked the alert and was greeted by an image of my own sister holding a familiar bucket.

“Not you too…” I muttered out loud.  I pressed play and prayed that it was a joke.

“Hello everyone!  Today I’m doing the scarab beetle challenge on behalf of people with Parkinsons.  I nominate Cheryl, Jimmy, and my brother, Kyle!”

This had to be a joke.

Once the screaming had subsided and the sounds of a paramedic rushing to the scene finished the video, I sat in stunned silence for a few seconds.  I had been nominated.  Everyone in my circle would be expecting a video of me, covered in a man-devouring swarm of insects, to be uploaded within the next 24 hours. 

My survival instinct said no, but my overwhelming desire to be accepted by my peers said that I had to do it.  My life wouldn’t be worth living if I didn’t do it.  People would spit on me in the street more so than usual.  I couldn’t have my friends and family believe that I was an uncharitable sort.  The money that it could raise could save someone’s life.  I briefly considered making a video of me just giving some money to charity, be that would be “unsporting” and “not in the spirit”.  I could hear their mockery already, plying on a peer pressure that I hadn’t felt since my friends dared me to piss off of a bridge in primary school.

My fate was already sealed.  I went outside and inflated the paddling pool, then promptly purchased an order of beetles from Amazon on next day delivery.

Memes With Glaxxor The Space Lizard

Greetings mammals.  This being is sometimes known as the space cowboy.  This being is sometimes known as the gangster of love.  However, since being exiled to this putrid terrestrial world, this being is often known as Glaxxor The Space Lizard.

In order to prepare humanity for assimilation into our species, this being has been studying human media and deciding upon a conquest strategy that will save as many egg sacks human lives as possible. To win over the human body, this being has realised that the inferior human mind must first be courted.  And what terrible distractions does the human mind enjoy?  After studying the electronic archive of all Earthly endeavour (known as “Teh Internets”), it is obvious that humans enjoy “memes”.  That is why this being has created some epic winnings with which to cure the human condition.  Please enjoy these unsophisticated tropes:

Hahahaha!  Mister Bandana is known for his thought-provoking advice.  Stomach cavities are the ideal place to nurture your parasitic offspring.  The two concepts merge to produce laughable results that will endear your entire species to the concept of becoming walking nurseries for our young.  Hahahaha!

It seems that humans love being caught in the middle of sexual procreation by cats.  Cats in ceilings watch humans spilling seminal fluid with hilarious results.  Think about the comedic potential of a REAL sexy lady watching?  Look at the frills on that!  While making this image, this being shed at least three layers of skin uncontrollably.  Powerfully erotic.

Overfed felines are no laughing matter, yet humans cover their Internets with pictures of their fat cats.  This being wonders why humans like to laugh at gratuitous pictures of tasty sub-creatures, but hopes that you will enjoy witnessing this appetising delight.

Humans enjoy sending each other the gyrations of Mr Richard Rolls.  However, this being felt that Richard’s lyrics needed a little touching up in order to make grammatical sense.  Please enjoy this reworking of a poorly conceived popular song.

Now that the memes have been dispatched, this being believes that the links between our races have become stronger.  Now if you would kindly sit still the next time I extend my ovipositor into your belly button, this being will ensure that our species become closer than you could possibly imagine.  Toodle ciao!

Rise Of The Planet Of Emotions

Emotions are nasty things.  People who express their emotions in a public fashion always make me feel rather uncomfortable.  There’s something disturbing about that lack of self-awareness that leads someone to scream and cry in a public place.  Why would you leave yourself open and exposed in such a fashion and invite complete strangers to judge you as such?  It’s something I’ll just never understand.

It seems that I am in the minority.  Through my casual observations, it seems that the planet is descending into an emotional quagmire where everyone believes that their opinions and feelings are the only ones that matter.  Just turn on the TV and you’ll see people crying their eyes out on X Factor, getting teary eyed while being interviewed about petrol prices on the news, or even shedding a tear of joy when winning £200 on Catchphrase.  Seriously, I saw an episode of Catchphrase where the contestant screamed and started flapping her hands near her eyes like she was battling a swarm of killer bees, all because she got one question right.  Roy Walker wouldn’t have stood for that shit.

It’s not just on TV that people are getting emotional.  Facebook arguments are becoming battles of life-changing significance.  These tend to spill over to the real world.  It is far from uncommon to hear people discussing Facebook comments as though they are nuclear proliferation agreements, and how many feelings have been hurt.  Sometimes a front is put up with the prefix "I'm not bothered, but...", which then descends into a long diatribe which betrays them and reveals that they are in fact, incredibly bothered.  This is the problem with written communication.  It's difficult to discern sarcasm or tone, and quite often a harmless joke can seem hurtful to the easily offended.  That's why arguments over social media explode over seemingly trivial matters, such as my "threats" to "mercilessly slaughter" people who post Keep Calm images.

In real life, it is becoming increasingly common to see couples having bitter breakups in the street.  Arguments with shop assistants and doctor’s receptionists seem to be a normal part of everyday life.  Our hospitals and public transport systems are full of posters asking people not to attack their staff.  So why are we so emotionally charged these days?

X Factor:  The world's most emotional karaoke jam

Some would say that our fat, greedy lifestyle of entitlement and throwaway consumerism is a big part of the problem.  They’re probably right.  In a world of convenience, smaller things begin to matter a whole lot more.  You wouldn’t have cared about the smack talk that Sally posted on Facebook if you had to churn butter for 18 hours a day in order to eke out an existence.  Perhaps this is the trade-off that human society has had to make.  We’ve swapped sabre-toothed tigers for iPhones.

However, I still can’t stand this overflow of emotion that we’re currently seeing.  I’m sure we can all agree that it’s vulgar and disgusting, and that makes me angry!  You see?  The emotions are spreading all over me and making feel things!  It’s just not proper.

That’s why I’m proposing a fast.  Similar to Ramadan, how about we have 1 month a year where everyone has to give up being emotional in public?  If people want to speak in a robotic voice while doing so, or perhaps even dress up like robots, then that’s fine with me.  Why not make it a whole month where we pretend to be robots?  Our metallic cousins have got the right idea and we should strive to be more like them.  Beep boop. Communication terminated.

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In other news, I have landed a regular writing gig over at Power Up Gaming!  This week my Review of Fez has been posted, along with a retro review of Revolution X.  So if you have any interest in that sort of thing, I'd encourage you to read it. If you have a Disqus account (I know a lot of you do), feel free to leave a comment at the bottom.  Support the site too.  It's a fantastic up and coming site with a great team of writers and interesting opinion pieces.  Thanks for reading.