If you’re even remotely interested in videogames, chances are you heard about the next World of Warcraft expansion coming out tonight. World of Warcraft: Wrath of the Lich King is set to follow in the steps of The Burning Crusade and shatter all-time sales records for an expansion.

Remember those posts I made about finally quitting WoW? Well… yeah. It lasted three months, then I got sucked back in and geared up my Druid. I can’t explain it: I’m glad to do other things when WoW loses my interest, but when it has my attention, boy does it keep it. The game, quite simply, is fun, like no single player game I can think of.

Part of it is the social aspect. Living in Edmonton right now, it means I don’t get to see a few friends of mine outside the game. Chatting with them on Ventrilo, and running raids together, is one of the things I do to keep in touch. Which brings me to an interesting realization about WoW: it’s not just a game, but it’s a social networking platform, too.

And this actually explains a lot of its resiliency. Go to Orgrimmar, and stand in front of the bank: you’ll see dozens of low level players who probably never leave the city anymore. For them, WoW is a social networking platform, where they can create an avatar (most often a female Blood Elf in her underwear), and then take them for a chat with friends and strangers.

When you think of WoW this way, it suddenly explains how competitors like Lord of the Rings Online and Warhammer Online can’t seem to dethrone the 800-pound gorilla that is WoW. It actually works a lot like Facebook or Twitter: compare them to newcomers and they’re underwhelming; but they’re familiar, and don’t miss any critical features, and so switching to a competitor is a LOT more complicated than switching to another game. To really change, you’d need to change your entire online network of friends.

But it’s not to say WoW is all about playing Bejeweled while dancing naked on a mailbox in Orgrimmar… The game underneath is deep, challenging and rewarding. And it provides an amazing sense of community when you gather your friends and beat a particularly demanding part of the game.

And so, when the Tirisfal Glades Zeppelin begins carrying members of the Warsong Offensive to Northrend tomorrow, I’ll be on board one of them. First stop: Vengeance Landing, for a few Profession skill-ups, then I’m off to Utgarde Keep with my guildies.

Hail to the Lich King, baby.

I’ve been thinking about food a lot, lately.

One of the central modern problems raised by eating is that of meat-eating. I’m not deaf to the cries of animal activists; I agree that the treatment of animals by the meat industry - reducing animals to commodities whose suffering is inconsequential - is morally reprehensible.

I’ve been a vegetarian before (although I was very young at the time), and I’ve been giving serious thought to vegetarianism lately. It would certainly please Hélène, who has what I’d call ‘vegetarian tendencies’.

Yet I’m currently leaning away from vegetarianism altogether. What I have in mind is something I haven’t found a handy term to file under… Happyvorism?

My current thinking leads me to think that eating meat can be ethically acceptable. I believe that the eating of animals is part of human nature, and during the evolution of Humanity, we have influenced other species to depend on our own desire to eat or domesticate them in order to thrive.

What I do resent, however, is making any of the animals I eat suffer before they get on my table. And unfortunately, our Western way of approaching meat has led us to tolerate a whole lot more suffering than we should.

In Asia, it is customary to leave certain parts of the animal in the dish when it reaches the dinner table. For instance, if you ask for fish in China, you will get the head. Refined diners will know that the eyes of a fish do not lie about its freshness, so leaving the head is a way for the restaurant to stay honest. Likewise, if you ask for chicken soup in most restaurants in China, you’ll get the legs and the head as well.

Now, this disgusts many Westerners. These parts are too “chickeny” - they are associated with the live animal, not the meat we have at dinner. This is exactly why I think they are important: whenever we are forced to confront the ex-animal we now call meat, we are one step closer to our decision being a lucid one.

In other words, chicken feet and fish heads are ways to keep us honest about our food. And if you stop ignoring the fact your steak used to be a cow capable of anguish and suffering, you suddenly care about how they lived.

And so, I’ve made the conscious decision, recently, to only allow myself to eat meat that comes from small-scale, sustainable farms. This kind of meat usually comes from animals which have been allowed to grow and live in conditions resembling their natural state, and thus probably felt “happy” about their existence. I also hope fervently that this also means their slaughter was as humane as possible, and that suffering was kept to a minimum.

There are two things I’m hoping to accomplish to prove or disprove this position:

1. Become a vegetarian. I’ve heard it said that you are not in a position to make a judgment about the ethical implications of eating meat if you are a meat eater. I would be very happy to undergo the process, to know exactly where I stand on the issue. I’ve done it with cigarettes: I’ve quit smoking “temporarily” in 2000 to verify that I was smoking out of a genuine enjoyment of the activity. I haven’t touched a cigarette since.

2. Kill an animal myself. That might sound like it flies in the face of point number one, but I think it’s the logical extension of it. If I’m going to pretend to be fine with eating an animal, I want to take part of this final step, slaughter, and make sure I am comfortable with it in practice as well as in theory.

I’m pretty convinced that with these two steps taken, I will be in a better position to affirm my ethical beliefs concerning meat eating. Whether I decide to avoid meat altogether or actually revel in it, remains to be seen.

One thing for sure, though: I don’t need to see an industrial meat-packing plant to know I cannot ever feel good about myself by eating at McDonald’s. That part of the food chain is definitely behind me.

Post Scriptum: A lot of my current thinking has been fueled by Michael Pollan’s book, The Omnivore’s Dilemma. If you’re at all concerned about what you eat and the ecological, financial and ethical implications of it, then you owe it to yourself to read it.

Found this list on the web… Meant to be a list of 100 things anyone should eat before one dies. Let’s see how if I’m ready to die yet!

The stuff I ate is in bold.

1. Venison
2. Nettle tea (wouldn’t mind trying!)
3. Huevos rancheros (not sure why this is on the list…)
4. Steak tartare (have it from time to time, I love it)
5. Crocodile
6. Black pudding
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borscht
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Pho (bonus points - had it in Saigon. It was AMAZING.)
13. PB&J sandwich (heh.)
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses
17. Black truffle
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes
19. Steamed pork buns (favorite dim sum dish, too)
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes (got some in the fridge right now!)
22. Fresh wild berries
23. Foie gras (totally hooked on the stuff, too)
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn, or head cheese
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters (I love them - thinking of getting some next week)
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda (sounds awesome though!)
31. Wasabi peas (weird item… but yep, had them! In Korea I think.)
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl
33. Salted lassi (I have it whenever I go to an Indian restaurant)
34. Sauerkraut
35. Root beer float
36. Cognac with a fat cigar (oh hell yeah!)
37. Clotted cream tea
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O
39. Gumbo (they got some good one on Whyte Ave, too)
40. Oxtail (had it in China, and tried it in France)
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects (quite a few times too)
43. Phaal
44. Goat’s milk
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more
46. Fugu (didn’t try it, but I’d be game)
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel (not a fan)
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut
50. Sea urchin (my favorite sushi)
51. Prickly pear (not sure if I ate that specifically, but I did eat cactus)
52. Umeboshi
53. Abalone (endangered species… but yeah, I had it)
54. Paneer
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal (what the HELL?)
56. Spaetzle
57. Dirty gin martini (I make a killer one as well)
58. Beer above 8% ABV (Oh yeah - Fin du Monde does the trick!)
59. Poutine (wouldn’t call myself a Quebecois if I didn’t!)
60. Carob chips
61. S’mores
62. Sweetbreads (thymus gland - sounds interesting)
63. Kaolin (not sure what that is - clay?)
64. Currywurst
65. Durian
66. Frogs’ legs
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake (had the Chinese variety too!)
68. Haggis (in Scotland, too - was awesome!)
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini (in Shanghai of all places)
73. Louche absinthe
74. Gjetost, or brunost
75. Roadkill (haha! I’d be game)
76. Baijiu (more like something that might kill you!)
77. Hostess Fruit Pie (some of these entries are just silly)
78. Snail
79. Lapsang souchong (smoked tea - had it, liked it)
80. Bellini
81. Tom yum
82. Eggs Benedict (had it this morning too)
83. Pocky (Japanese snack FTW!)
84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant (don’t think that should be an entry by itself - it’s not a specific food)
85. Kobe beef (OH HELL YEAH!)
86. Hare (cooked it too)
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse (had horse sashimi in Japan)
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta (well, the Romanian version anyway!)
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
100. Snake (many times)

Some of the items I’d put on my own eat-before-you-die list:

North Korean soju
Live fish
Dog
Fresh snake blood alcohol
Sichuan fish head
Lac-St-Jean tourtière
Lamb roast
Weasel coffee
Homemade rakiya
Homegrown vegetables
Real fresh milk
Fish’n'chip wrapped in newspaper
Xiao Long Bao (soup dumplings)

Anything you’d consider can’t-miss food?

Heard of Braid? It’s an Xbox Live Arcade game, going for low price of $15. Notably, it is currently the highest-rated Xbox Live Arcade game ever. Is it deserved?

Yes, a thousand times yes.

The only way I can describe Braid is this: it’s a Haruki Murakami story in videogame form.

Two weeks ago, I was curious at seeing this game mentioned so many times on game news sites, so I downloaded the demo on Live. I went through the first level, and found it to be a weird, cool little platformer, with echoes of Super Mario Bros. The central game mechanic is a Rewind button, which drew comparisons to Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time. I felt the puzzles were interesting and clever, but yet I wasn’t sure this was a game for me.

But over the last two weeks, I felt drawn back to the game. The text, displayed as a prologue to each world, hinted at something larger. It spoke of time, and forgiveness. So I went back to it and bought the full game.

Braid is a story about memory, forgiveness and regret. It’s about loss, and the search for meaning. It tells its story through moments and impressions, and leaves you clouded in emotion from a source you can’t quite pinpoint. The last level, in which the themes of the game come together, pulls off something of such magnificence and grandeur that I was left breathless by it. It is, quite simply, a piece of art.

The gameplay? Well, it’s really damn good, actually. The Rewind feature is part of it, but it goes much further. Much like Portal before, this is a game that requires you to be in a certain state of mind to succeed at it, and it leaves your perception of time askew once it’s over.

I always believed the videogame industry was capable of producing art. Much like Hollywood, however, I have my doubts that true art can be produced by a large, profit-driven enterprise. I had a hunch, back when the X360 launched, that Xbox Live Arcade could be the independent filmmaker equivalent for videogames, where little gems filled with insight and meaning could thrive, and tell their tale away from the well-trodded paths of the corporate giants.

Braid has now proven this possibility, and left me breathless in the process.

One note: the game is hard. Some puzzles are hard enough to give you a headache, but all of them are fair and well thought out. Personally, I took to the story so much, that I couldn’t endure laboring through the puzzles for days. I have to confess, I took a solver from GameFAQs. I’m sure the game is more rewarding if you solve it by yourself, but I have to say that the experience was totally worth it for me regardless.

I keep getting crap from my elected Conservative representative. It comes in the form of a cheap photocopy of some equally-as-cheap political rhetoric. Every one has amounted to the following eloquent political argument:

Liberals BAD! Conservatives GOOD! CONSERVATIVES SMASH!!! Please vote fur me!

And then it invites you to “vote” on which candidate will address the one-sided issue they bring up, fold up the cheap photocopy, and mail it to Ottawa free of postage.

Which is why I did. Here’s what I wrote in it:

If you can’t make it out, I wrote: “Please stop wasting paper and taxpayer money to send me your cheap political rhetoric.” And in a very childish moment, I voted for everyone EXCEPT Harper. HAH! (Ok, I do realize that on an official ballot this would just annul my vote.)

Ok, so that ain’t much of a political statement. It just felt good upon receiving the fifth cheap pamphlet in a month.

I’ve been rereading my old blog entries from when I was back in Shanghai, and it’s starting to hit me: I miss being out of my comfort zone.

Edmonton is really nice, and quite comfortable so far (granted, this is the summer and not the dark end of February.) Montreal was also familiar very quickly when Helene and I went back last year. That’s a good thing, in a sense… But I’m reading about exploring Japan or chatting with a North Korean waitress in Mandarin, and I feel like I left a part of myself in a foreign land.

I’m not saying I want to leave Edmonton right away, or that it was in any way a bad decision to come here… But it feels like I’m gathering myself, here in Western Canada. I’m gathering myself for another jump into the unknown. I don’t think it will be China (although I wouldn’t exclude the possibility), but China is, well… somewhat familiar now. I miss it, for sure, and I want to go back, but the lure I’m talking about is the pure joy and terror of being in a completely alien land again; which China isn’t anymore.

Where to next? I don’t know. I have 2-3 years to think about it. It’d be nice to go somewhere strange again.

That’s it… I’m strangesick.

Let me make one thing very clear off the start: yes, China has issues with human rights, and its treatment of Tibet and Xinjiang independentists is an important issue.

That being said, I have a major problem with the way the West is dealing with the Olympics being held in China right now. The protests along the olympic flame’s paths were pretty embarrassing, but the slew of smug reporters talking about China, not to mention the misspelled Powerpoint presentations I’m getting by email, are making me facepalm vigorously.

I’ve taken part in protests in the past, so I’m not condemning this mode of citizen expression at all. I stood in the streets of Montreal in -30 weather when I felt I should send a clear signal to my Government that it shouldn’t participate in the unlawful invasion of Iraq. I did so because standing in the streets by the thousands is an effective way of talking to your elected Government. It is stronger than a vote, in a way, because it requires initiative and active participation on your part.

But what are the objectives of protesting against the Beijing Olympics? Specifically, why do some journalists and tourists go to Beijing, then protest and get kicked out by the PRC? Do these people believe one second that doing so is going to change the way things are run in China?

The worst part is, it aggravates things. The young Chinese have an unparalleled access to Western media and information nowadays. Of all the people I’ve met in my age group, none ever suggested things were perfect in China. Some may argue that the theory of communism is very sound, but none would deny the state of affairs in the country.

And these are the people who can make a difference. This is the first generation of Chinese who are seeing the world open up before them once again. They are informed and critical, and they listen to what the West is saying about them. And you know how they react to seeing sensationalist attacks on China throughout the Olympics?

They see it as an attempt by the West to make them lose face. It’s all the more problematic that these reactions are not posted in plain English for us Westerners to see; they happen on Chinese forums, and are written in Simplified Chinese. In their eyes, the protests are not a rallying call, they’re a humiliation of their nation in a critical moment of openness to the world.

Is that worth having the smug feeling that comes from acting like an ass on Tienanmen Square before getting expelled?

The problem with China requires much more complex means to resolve. It demands that we open up a dialog with the people of China, so that we can present them with our values, in the hopes that this might leave a mark. This approach demands that we also listen lest the dialog turns to a sermon: and the danger in listening is that you, too, might change your mind.

And to me, that demands a lot more courage, conviction and will to change things than wearing a Free Tibet t-shirt.

Thousand Year Egg (I love this stuff)

With the arrival of the Olympics, it seems like every journalist is busy scouring the hutongs of Beijing looking for stuff that will challenge their definition of food. I’m actually a bit miffed at that, because focusing on the stuff you find ‘disgusting’ actually takes away from the cuisine as a whole; it’s one thing to get all freaky about eating a duck tongue, say, but you’re focusing on it instead of all the rest of the dishes around it.

To give you an example, when I tried pidan doufu (tofu with fermented egg), it was more of a dare, and the strange thousand year egg was an experience in itself. But instead of freaking out about it, I gave it an honest try. And you know what? It became one of my favorite dishes in Shanghai. (I miss it a lot!) Same goes for chou doufu (stinky tofu) and yu tou (fish head).

Anyway, just for kicks, here’s a list of unusual things I’ve eaten over the last few years. Some of it isn’t very ethical… I don’t particularly feel proud of the whale sashimi, though I couldn’t pass it up. But I’d say that everything was worth trying at least once.

I’ve marked the place I’ve eaten these dishes for the first time… When nothing’s marked, it means China.

• Live fish, as sashimi
• Drunken shrimp (live shrimp drowning in rice alcohol)
• 30 lbs lobster, still alive, as sashimi
• Thousand year egg
  
• Dog hot pot
• BBQ dog meat, imported from North Korea
• Alcohol with a viper in it
• Alcohol made from deer horn
• Fur seal penis alcohol
• Sheep testicle [q]
• Scorpion
• Silkworm crysalis
  
• Grasshopper [q]
• Ant in chocolate [q]
• Fresh cobra blood mixed with rice alcohol [v]
• Durian
• Durian flavored popsicle that tasted like a dead rat floating in an oil spill on the highway [q]
• Sheep brain [q]
• Pig head [q]
• Fish head
• Chicken head
• Chicken feet
• Duck feet
• Pig feet
• Stomach
• Intestines [q]
• Lungs
• Spleen
• Liver [q]
• Heart [q]
• Beef tongue [q]
• Veal cheeks [q]
• Jellyfish [q]
• Eel
• Stingray
• Pigeon [q]
• Shark
• Whole baby chicks on a stick
• Many species of snake [q]
• Ostrich [q]
• Kangaroo [edmonton]
• Turtle
• Alligator
• Frog [q]
• Snails [q]
• Fresh oysters [q]
• Parrot fish
• Whale sashimi [j]
• Horse sashimi [j]
• Raw beef [f]
• Raw deer
• Haggis [s]
• Sea urchin [q]
• Sea cucumber
• Chicken blood soup
• Blood sausage [q]
• Beef marrow [f]
• Sticky tofu that smells like poo

[f] = France; [j] = Japan; [q] = Quebec; [s] = Scotland; [v] = Vietnam

I’m a newcomer to Iain M. Banks’ Culture novels, but boy are they giving me my money’s worth. Case in point: Excession. I wouldn’t recommend it as a first venture into the Culture, but if you’ve read a Culture novel before… You’re in for a brainride. Check out my review.

You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone. Well, to be fair, that’s not exactly true. I’ve left cities before, and I’ve missed aspects of them a lot. So now, wisened, I get to enjoy things as they happen.

When Helene and I moved to Edmonton, I didn’t expect to like it very much. I figured it would pretty much suck, so I’m surprised it’s growing on me as much as it does. Does it mean I’m gonna settle here? Hell no. But I do get to spend my time here and enjoy a few things that are unique about Edmonton. Things like:

The Old Strathcona Farmer’s Market

I can’t get enough of the Farmer’s Market. Yes, there are markets in Montreal, but they don’t approach this one, I’m sorry to say. The Old Stathcona Farmer’s Market is filled with local producers, and whether you’re buying a homemade pie or choosing your fresh-picked vegetables, you get to chat with the people who prepared your food for you. The quality is insanely high, and the people there are just nice. I’ve been there often enough that they wave at me as I walk by the stands.

The Kindness of Strangers

I’ve been to a few places around the world, and I’ve met many nice people, whether it’s the Chinese, the Macedonians or the Scotish. But there’s something just so damn nice about Edmontonians. They smile at you on the street and say hello. They smile at you when you pass them by. And even in the nicest restaurants, the staff is kind and genuinely interested in your well-being. To be frank, I think Edmontonians are the nicest strangers I know.

The Food

This one’s a big surprise. I expected to find good steak, sure, but that’s pretty much it. Instead, I found restaurants obsessed with freshness and local produce, and whether it’s the steak at Von’s, the delicious breakfast at Highlevel Diner, or the mind-boggling beef carpaccio at Packrat Louie, I’m amazed by the quality of the food here.

BioWare

BioWare is often cited as one of the best employers in Canada, and there’s a reason for that. It feels very much like a Western Canada company, founded on hard work, integrity, and honesty. That would already be awesome if they didn’t also produce the best games in the industry.

Blue Skies

Oh, we get blue skies in Montreal, although I did miss them in Shanghai. The sky there is most often gray, sometimes pearly yellow, and when it’s blue, it makes the news. But the skies in Edmonton… My goodness. They’re impossible blue. I’m often stunned by the perfect blue of the sky in the afternoon, and I’m caught staring at it for long minutes. The sunsets are pretty awesome, too.