Inception
- Overrated, but not that bad.
I'm sure you were all thinking "Why doesn't he go and see Inception so he can tell me what he thought of it", well you might like what I have to say about it. If you have seen it then get ready to bicker with me, if you haven't seen it go to the £3 screening of it on a Tuesday. I'd be slightly adverse to paying full price for it.
Brief synopsis? Enter a world much like our own except a device was created by the military that allows people to "Dream Share". That is multiple people can experience the same dream and explore various levels of consciousness. Leonardo DiCaprio and his friends - some English guy, the kid from 3rd Rock from the Sun and some random guy that gets taken away from everyone else earlier on in the film work as their own organized company of dream data protection. You know how big companies hire trained hackers to test their network security and find ways to improve it, well these guys pretty much do exactly that except they train CEOs, etc. do militarize their dreams so that if anyone illegally dream shares with them and tries to steal secrets and information kept in the subconscious, their efforts are foiled. DiCaprio as we learn pretty early on in the film is wanted for murder of his dead wife and desperately wants to get back to his kids. Ken Watanabe offers him the chance to return to America and see his kids undeterred by law enforcement if he has an inception. The movie title refers to going into someone's dream and carefully causing the dreamer to develop an idea. In this case Watanabe's character wants Cillian Murphy to disolve his father's company to avoid a superpower energy corporation from forming.
We are to believe this has never been done before or if it can be done it's very difficult. The first half of the film we see the team being assembled, it's like the scene is being set and we get to see the dynamics between each character. Because this is done so quickly, it's almost as if it's a little forced. "How can we show this guy knows his shit in a thirty second montage". Whilst all of the actors are good, I found it kind of difficult to see the characters as characters, more often we're seeing them as the actors or the characters they've been in previous films - "Oh look, there's Ken Watanabe, DiCaprio, Juno, the kid from 3rd rock from the son, Michael Caine, Scarecrow". That's partly because of such an all star cast being used, the fact that pretty much everybody has already been in a Christopher Nolan Batman film and because of the sound in this film. In true Nolan style there is an orchestral score going through pretty much all of this film. I don't remember anything other than strings, trumpets and bass. The latter led to such a wobble of the speakers sometimes it was a little off putting. Whilst it didn't mean the dialogue was hard to make out, it did however mean that you were slightly distracted by the music as the characters spoke. Meaning that their names were lost in the aether pretty early on.
As far as the story goes, it's quite good for a while. It's a pretty novel science fiction idea that Philip K. Dick probably should have thought up. It's got the sort of Existenz/Matrix/Ghost in the Shell plug yourself into another reality with the classic DesCartes message of "I think therefore I am" philosophy built in. The film also tries to work on multiple levels of the subconscious and "projections" appear - characters or places that are brain pieces together without our control. Leo's wife almost acts as an antagonist to the characters because she just pops up there causing him to act like a dick without him being able to stop her. Yes there's an emotional and sentimental reason as to why this happens but often enough I was just thinking "Would somebody just shoot the dumb bitch". The script is reasonably well written but at times it gives me a bit of a *sigh* moment. As if it was a little too laboured/maybe borderline pretentious. Partly that's because of the humourless nature of the entire film. When I go to see a big budget action movie, I like to at least have a chuckle from time to time. It's why the Arnie films are still good to watch. That's not to say you have to cover the thing with melted mozarella but throw a good one liner in the dialogue to mix it up. Tom Hardy almost grants a chuckle here and there but it's barely enough to even give a half smile. Nolan would do well to remember that Batman Begins had a great dynamic between Bruce and Alfred. If you're going to have Michael Caine in your film for little to no reason, you may as well have him use the word bloody.
The second half of the film when they're in the dream starts off pretty well. There's some gun fights, a car chase with a train in it and some mastery with a rocket launcher. There's a constant tension within the dream because of whats at stake if someone dies within the dream (I'll not spoil this bit) and the action is pretty good. The characters all have to go deeper than the dream itself, into several states of dream within dream. Some stay on some level, some on another. Whilst there is a strong level of intelligent script writing in doing this, at times the camera seems to constantly cut between the mutliple dreams, so we're constantly reminded of what's going on but it's almost setting out to be a mind fuck. Ever seen the "I'm the Juggernaut bitch!" voice over of the 90s x-men cartoon. This is what parts of these scenes reminded me of, I felt like yelling out "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS FALLIN?!". The slow-mo sequences at times became a little tedious. My friend sitting right next to me at times was yawning and laughing at things he shouldn't have been laughing at. The multiple dream idea also had an element of "Ok we've got three mediocre plotlines, what should we do with them? YES! I'VE GOT IT! COMPOUND THEM ALL TOGETHER! IT'S A MASTERPIECE!" I think what part of this film pulls it down is it's determination to explain everything in retrospect. You have a glimpse of something important and we're supposed to be wondering why so that we can have our questions answered somewhere later on in the film. It's kind of why I never got into Lost. Usually I have a curious and inquisitive nature but in certain circumstances it's just plain irritating to have this mandatory notion of intrigue.
Even right through to the end we have moments were the film tries to pull a Donnie Darko on us and go "I wonder what the hidden meaning behind this is? What's really happened?" In simple terms, it's an action film that's trying to force us to think. Is life just a dream?
There's a few thing it really delivered on. The effects were pretty good. A gravity shifting fight scene was very nice to watch. Yet a lot of the other effects will date really badly. Go back and watch the Matrix. A lot of it just doesn't seem as slick by today's standards, yet it was a huge milestone in the industry. Inception is going to suffer in the exact same way down the line, yet instead of having a wooden Reeves that we can laugh at we've got a super serial hench as fuck DiCaprio to endure.
It's arguably overly long too, which is kind of typical for a Nolan film. After a few times watching the Dark Knight, you kind of question "Do I really need to have another twist to add another thirty minutes to this plot line?", Inception does this from the start. From the moment you have time distortion explained within dreams, you know there is going to be a way to drag things out.
Lastly what really bugged me is why are the dreams so constipated? In the dreams that we wake up and remember, stupid shit happens. They're kind of like acid trips. Waking Life does this tremendously. Yes, it does go on a mutliple tangents about existentialism but with a blunt smoked you're prepared to go off on these tangents, questioning your own reality. At least if you had some sort of trippiness, you could have got the laughs in. "Why is the Queen of Spain in a hot air balloon?" "Whats with all these cartoon bears?" "The Blue meanies?! Noooooooo!"
Now I will have plenty of people prepared to argue with what I've said about this film but all I'm saying is, it's not perfect. Of course, it's a better film than the A-Team but it's not half as much fun and that to me is the film's problem. It's clever but it's not fun enough. The damn film almost made me cry too. Stupid talking to father on death bed scenes, that's not even fair. Cunts.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010
A History of Card Playing Failures
This entire article is FONMP (Fuck off non-Magic Player). There's no point reading it if you don't play Magic.
Anyone who knows me would say I'm pretty bad at a lot of things. Losing is one of them. Give the most talentless idiot the biggest competitive streak and you have a recipie for disaster right in front of you. I've been playing card games for years. I first got introduced to the scene back when I was twelve years old, with his head more in the world of Warhammer than in the "cool teenager" scene. Being a rare breed of socially inept character, I could talk to almost everyone but piss them off by talking whilst my head was lodged firmly up my ass. Meanwhile I had the co-ordination of a newborn Giraffe and the athleticism of a sloth. Couldn't run, couldn't catch, even rowing was an egg I couldn't hatch.
So off on and on I drifted through card games, roleplaying games, computer games and books. Like many teenage geeks, I was quite happy to escape the world of reality without needing any drugs*. Whilst my competitive experience of magic was fairly non-existant, I understood the game fairly well. When I came back to Belfast after three years of University, I had no intention of getting stuck into the game, just the odd draft. Within weeks the odd draft had turned into two drafts a week, I was playing on MODO too, sometimes even going on Workstation so I could test the decks to beat without shelling out insanely high prices for mythics. This was inbetween working, training in muay thai and attempting to help out at home. I have no doubt that in years to come I shall be filled with guilt about the latter of these things being skimped on in terms of time and effort invested.
Given time I was actually winning drafts, the odd occasion multiple drafts in a row. It was as if I had pushed through that barrier from casual player to someone who could actually do quite well. Or that's how it felt. You see where this is going; I got too big for my boots. This didn't help too much when I was basing part of my ego upon how good I perceived myself to be getting. Remember back in school and you had those guys far too arrogant for their own good, strutting around knowing that because they were so good at rugby the rest of the world were going to fall at their feet. I was getting that from doing well in Magic. Ridiculous I know - no-one outside of a comic shop is going to give a shit about your first pick first pack Sword of Vengeance or how you couldn't believe you were passed multiple Pelakka Wurms. Rugby will get a lot of guys laid. Magic.. not so much. If you've read any of my older posts, you'll know my views that geeks can get laid for being geeks but it's not by boring a woman to death or by her watching you make top eight in a Pre-release. Yet I was going out in clubs and bars thinking I was shit hot because I took home a foil fetchland for coming first in a triple Zendikar draft. Granted I wasn't bragging about it to random women, but I was carrying this unbelievably positive energy for being so chuffed with myself.
In my blog I haven't chatted much about the death of my father or how it has affected me. It's not something I've wanted to bring up too much because I feel I should write about it when I'm ready but since he has passed away, I haven't done too much. Worked a little bit in a bar, or doing the odd temp shift. I've also had a few trips to England and one to Denmark (more on that in another entry). What I'm trying to get at is my ridiculous obsession with magic. How it's kind of filled a void since I have no full time work. I played so much of it that it was as if I was gearing myself up in the back of my head to be a Pro. Now I do keep telling myself how ridiculous this notion is. To be a professional magic player is probably about as difficult as being a professional poker player. Nay, probably more so - once you get good at poker you can do it at a bare basic level, picking up just enough money to get by from a couple of good nights play a week in casinos in bars. Magic requires you to be sitting around waiting for Grand Prixs and pro-tours to appear. Doing well in those requires you to pit yourself up against hundreds of people who may be genetically brighter than you and better trained when it comes to the practice.
In fact what makes this more ridiculous is that even the guys who are really good at Magic in Ireland prioritize Magic as second to their full time employment. Our champions tend to be guys with multiple degrees in Pharmacy and Law. My single BA is probably not enough to cut the mustard in the academic skills required for excellent play. Now that's probably not really the reason I don't do well but I'm going to try and illustrate to you just how bad I am at the game and how supersilious I was getting.
Once a year though, every player has something to look forward to. The Irish Nationals. Bringing players from all thirty-two counties together for a weekend of playhing savage games of cards and drinking like fishes. You grow out of Christmas. As a magic player, you do not grow out of nationals.
In most counties, qualifying for nationals is a nightmare. The level of play skill is a whole nother level to the scrubs that rock up at the drafts or the FNMs with their Lorthos the Tidemaker combo decks. In fact fromn what I gather, anyone qualifying for their national event has probably done very well for themselves in just that feat. On our little emerald Isle, it's notoriously easy. You have little kids rocking up with unsleeved pre-con decks, with ill conceived notions of what they are actually likely to face. Anyone with half a brain and a few hundred quids worth of cards in their hands should make the grade no problem.
In the North of Ireland alone, we had 4 qualifiers. Each of those had about 30 people attending with 14 getting through. So basically, you just have to be better than half of the field? Yeah. That's it. In fact one of our qualifiers, yesterday had 16 people there. Ten made it through. I played 4 qualifiers and I couldn't get through any of them. I got beat consistently by people that I conceive to be worse than me. This isn't one of those gamer arrogance things either, this is half of the players in Northern Ireland wondering why I'm not qualified.
When I break down each qualifier, I see mistakes in most of them. I see my inability to deal with pressure and it's crushing.
People that most people around me were questioning how I got beat by them
Qualifier number one
After putting together the guts of Finest Hour Mythic the night before and running it with a few proxies in the FNM (we are allowed up to five proxies in our decks at FNM), I'm quite excited for this day. I mean, after all I won the FNM. The problem lies when I'm putting together the deck on the morning. No-one has the Baneslayers they can lend. The bigger problem lies within me getting the Finest Hours. No-one in Northern Ireland has even seen the mythic enchantment. It seemed like such an unlikely card to make a top deck it was ridiculous. Anyway, running Thornlings over Baneslayer Angels, I'm still thinking I can win enough. I come up against some junk in the first match. This guy is running Bladetusk Boars which whilst I really liked in Zendikar draft have limited reach even within a limited format. I win 2-0. Some other guy is playing some other junk for the second match. It doesn't make sense why he'd even bother showing up with his Lilianna Vess deck but I don't think anyone ever explained to him the notion of a good deck, poor guy, just needs a lot of practice. I soon get blown out of the water in the final three matches by decks packing 4 journey to nowhere's, oblivion rings and day of judgements. This mass control deck match up is too much for me to battle through, despite me and Niall singing a duet of "Touch too Much" by AC/DC, with me haven beaten him the night before with smart plays and proxies, he hoses me. Matt follows by by beating me with his mono-white jank control deck and at this point even if I win my next match, I still can't go through. I even try and be a dick by attempting to dream crush a friend. Pete beats me solidly with blue white control and can relax for the next few months.
After this I throw my first well known tantrum. The fucking tonka truck is hoofed right out of the pram. I'm slamming my deck on the table. Shit is bad. I'm for quitting Magic because I'm hit with the first slap of realizing I'm not as good as I think and my serious nature just doesn't cut it. After about two days of being pissed off, I come round to some realizations and pick up a few notions.
Lessons: Don't bring a half built deck to a qualifier. Play Jund.
Qualifier 2
At this point, Rise has been out for a month, I play Jund with Sarkhan in it and am coming up against decks that are likewise making the most of the format changes. Next level decks and decks throwing down Gideon. I play against Greg who's piloting a better version of Jund. Rather than my slightly cumbersome Savage Land heavy version of the G/R/B midrange, Greg throws down a Terramorphic Expanse, Lotus Cobra build that out-Junds me in the second game, five spells to my four. This I can handle, I've still got my hopes in it until a crushing third game. Turn two lotus cobra, turn 3 ruinblaster. Turn 4 ruinblaster. My hand extends and I shrug. All I have to do is win 3 matches out of the 4 remaning. My opponent for the second match would actually automatically be qualified on rating if he decided not to show up for that day. Anyway DJ is playing next level bant. He beats me first game, I beat him second. The third I play like a tool. I don't cast consuming vapours for no apparent reason. I don't cast Sarkhan the Mad for some other obscure reasonless piece of logic. Ok, ok, I'm paired down for the final three matches. Good start to the winning streak.. I hope. Round three is mono red. I win the first game by throwing the lightning bolts and terminates at the hell's thunders, goblin guides and lightning bolts before they have a chance to make an impact. Throw down two Sprouting Thrinaxs and blow him out by maelstrom pulsing the elemental tokens spawned by devastating summons. Game two I side in some more instant speed removal and suck some life up with a Malakir Bloodwitch. Unreal. I go to the pub to nab a drink before I go and play the next round. This time I'm facing down Mono Black Vampires. I don't fear it too much. Whilst Simon is a solid player, at that moment in time I didn't have a lot of belief in his deck archetype. He gets mana screwed in pretty much two games, I give him an apology and go for another pint to get me solidly relaxed for my final round. This time I'm playing off against a guy that isn't known for his technical ability and he is piloting his friend's Boros Bushwhacker. Whilst the deck wasn't that good, it had a pretty good match up against Jund and I get beaten horrendously 2-1, largely in part to an overwhelming God draw in the third game and my sheer stupidity. Yeah, despite Path to Exile being one of the most well used cards in standard, I completely forgot that it does more than just remove a creature from the game. It fixes my lands. Being able to cast Consuming Vapors on the third turn would have been pretty devasatating and might have given me a good chance but alas, I'm an idiot. Whilst I don't take it as badly as I did in the first qualifier as I know there are another two qualifiers, I end up getting incredibly drunk. So drunk in fact that after drinking for a solid seven hours, I try and steal a kebab, pee in a bin then I end up back at my friend's girlfriend's flat and I'm trying it on with her friend with such great lines as "Sarah? When are we going to bed?" Then hoovering the entire living room floor.
Lessons: Play Jund better. Remember what Path to Exile does. Just becauase you're drunk doesn't mean you're funny.
Qualifier 3
Ok this was just last Friday passed. I'm geared from the start for this format, I love limited and I've done fairly well in it in the past. I end up with the same sealed pool that I open as the sealed pool swap involes passing to the right then swapping with the person opposite you. I've got the weakest sealed pool at my table, with what seemed to be about five mythics, none of them mine but I should still be in a shot, playing big beats green and black, running two whispersilk cloaks to overpower my opponent with Spined Wurms. In match one this is exactly what I do, the guy has a similar pool to my own, but he's playing a splash of white which makes a sideboarded in Deathmark extremely potent in the third game. Round 2 I'm up against one of the top Southern players, the guy Fitz has the most broken U/W flyer pool since the one I opened at the pre-release. Sword of Vengeance, Air Servant, Serra Angel, Mind Control, Frost Titan, Angelic Arbiter. Games one he curves out pretty solidly as well, landing Stormfront Pegasus, Cloud Elemental, Assault Griffin and Serra Angel. There's just absolutely no way I can race that perfect curve whilst I'm dithering around casting spells like Sylvan Range and Cultivate to give me more lands in order to cast the green fatties. Game 2 I sideboard in a mountain to blast him with double combusts, but again he curves out and I never seem to draw my additional removal leaving me in a clustered mess. We play a few games after the match and I manage to win a few of them quite convincingly. I still think I can qualify seeing as that I got beaten by what seemed to be the most absurd deck in the room. Match 3 pits me against Michael Grough who I have a tendency to overwhelm in drafts. Game one I race him with a 4/4 steel overseeer and a Barony Vampire, making a huge problem for his Cloud Elemental with its unable to block non-flyers. Game two though the tables fully turn, he slaps down a White Knight turn 2 and has equipped a warlord's axe to it on turn 4. With a 5/3 first striking pro-black guy charging me down, I'm pretty much losing board just to avoid taking so much damage. He fireballs me out and it's over. Game 3 I face down much the same problem although it's not so much the white knight that is giving me jip, just about any creature with the warlord's axe equipped to it. Whilst I put in the combusts in for this match up I was quite tempted to put in white instead of red just to give me condem and solemn offering, something I really wish I had done. Despite eventually stabilizing, leaving him with one card in hand, no board and me having a whispersilk cloaked royal assassin, I get fireballed out for one more than lethal the turn after signing in blood into a Spined Wurm and an Overrun. I kind of had a hunch he had the fireball but I felt I had to draw the gas before he drew the last land. In fact we had a look at the deck and found he was two cards off the land. I wouldn't have had time to finish him off anyway. The fourth match I'm paired against an eight year old. My hopes are high, although I hear he has a solid deck, in fact he was at my table and was filled with glee as he opened a Grave Titan. Game one he hit me with an 8/8 flying Stone Golem. Game two he Diabolic Tutors for a Grave Titan, whilst I'm already on the backfoot hoping to draw the Plummet to the Armoured Ascensioned creature. At this point I scoop and try and prepare myself for the fourth and final qualifier.
Lessons: Learn to Sideboard better, don't get beat by eight year olds
Qualifier 4
This time it should have been too much of an issue at all but I'm already on tilt. Someone was for lending me a perfect RDW deck but I decide to opt for R/G tokens, a build that eventually won the very same nationals I was attempting to qualify for. Game one I face down Dave Glennon, the same guy who I beat in the first match of the sealed qualifiers. He's playing this G/W ramp deck that blasts out Overgrown Battlement, ramps into Summoner's Trap at the end of my turn 5, spitting out a Primeval Titan, tutoring for Eldrazi Temples that are activated by the turn 4 Garruk into an Emrakul. Game 2 goes much the same. Not to mention I draw dead for turn upon turn. Match 2 I'm facing off against some U/W control player. Now my deck usually has a good match up against it but I face off against Baneslayer in the first game with no monument to push the damage past. Game 2 there's a big hiccup in communication. Seeing that I'm massively on tilt I'm playing too fast and saying things I don't really mean, like "Go ahead" when I haven't taken my second turn, fail to realize my opponent has played his second turn when I'm going first and he thinks I'm onto my third. After picking up a game warning, I lose anyway, drawing nothing but lands turn after turn. In my third match I get trounced 2-1 by Pyromancer's Acenscion, drawing none of my sideboard cards ever (Acidic Slimes, Baloth). I shake hands and leave in silence only to run out the door and hoof a boot clean into the electrical cupboard, scaring two random passers by in the process. At this point I go to nail pints and spliffs to drown my sorrows and fight back the tears of rage and self loathing. Literally this thing fills me the whole way through the second day. It comes to me in the bath how I failed to learn any of my lessons from the previous four qualifiers.
Lessons: Always play Jund. Always. Don't tilt. Seriously, don't tilt. You're shit at magic. Nobody is going to feel sorry for you if you act like a douchebag higher than your station for the last four months. Magic is just a game, try and get a real career.
Enjoy yourself.
So there you have it. Playing magic occasionally puts life into perspective. I'm sure I could attempt to bring in tons of metaphors of magic in life like knowing the metagame of women in a bar. Like how some girls you need to be all passionate and Red Deck winsy with whilst others you need to be all showy offy with some retarded combo deck whilst others you just need to play it cool, not pay too much attention and U/W control them out of it by countering their spells (or knocking them down with insults). However this is would be largely contrived. Even more contrived would be for me to compare martial arts to decks too. Muay Thai might by R/G stompy by some stretch of the imagination, I'm sure.
*Until I discovered drugs
This entire article is FONMP (Fuck off non-Magic Player). There's no point reading it if you don't play Magic.
Anyone who knows me would say I'm pretty bad at a lot of things. Losing is one of them. Give the most talentless idiot the biggest competitive streak and you have a recipie for disaster right in front of you. I've been playing card games for years. I first got introduced to the scene back when I was twelve years old, with his head more in the world of Warhammer than in the "cool teenager" scene. Being a rare breed of socially inept character, I could talk to almost everyone but piss them off by talking whilst my head was lodged firmly up my ass. Meanwhile I had the co-ordination of a newborn Giraffe and the athleticism of a sloth. Couldn't run, couldn't catch, even rowing was an egg I couldn't hatch.
So off on and on I drifted through card games, roleplaying games, computer games and books. Like many teenage geeks, I was quite happy to escape the world of reality without needing any drugs*. Whilst my competitive experience of magic was fairly non-existant, I understood the game fairly well. When I came back to Belfast after three years of University, I had no intention of getting stuck into the game, just the odd draft. Within weeks the odd draft had turned into two drafts a week, I was playing on MODO too, sometimes even going on Workstation so I could test the decks to beat without shelling out insanely high prices for mythics. This was inbetween working, training in muay thai and attempting to help out at home. I have no doubt that in years to come I shall be filled with guilt about the latter of these things being skimped on in terms of time and effort invested.
Given time I was actually winning drafts, the odd occasion multiple drafts in a row. It was as if I had pushed through that barrier from casual player to someone who could actually do quite well. Or that's how it felt. You see where this is going; I got too big for my boots. This didn't help too much when I was basing part of my ego upon how good I perceived myself to be getting. Remember back in school and you had those guys far too arrogant for their own good, strutting around knowing that because they were so good at rugby the rest of the world were going to fall at their feet. I was getting that from doing well in Magic. Ridiculous I know - no-one outside of a comic shop is going to give a shit about your first pick first pack Sword of Vengeance or how you couldn't believe you were passed multiple Pelakka Wurms. Rugby will get a lot of guys laid. Magic.. not so much. If you've read any of my older posts, you'll know my views that geeks can get laid for being geeks but it's not by boring a woman to death or by her watching you make top eight in a Pre-release. Yet I was going out in clubs and bars thinking I was shit hot because I took home a foil fetchland for coming first in a triple Zendikar draft. Granted I wasn't bragging about it to random women, but I was carrying this unbelievably positive energy for being so chuffed with myself.
In my blog I haven't chatted much about the death of my father or how it has affected me. It's not something I've wanted to bring up too much because I feel I should write about it when I'm ready but since he has passed away, I haven't done too much. Worked a little bit in a bar, or doing the odd temp shift. I've also had a few trips to England and one to Denmark (more on that in another entry). What I'm trying to get at is my ridiculous obsession with magic. How it's kind of filled a void since I have no full time work. I played so much of it that it was as if I was gearing myself up in the back of my head to be a Pro. Now I do keep telling myself how ridiculous this notion is. To be a professional magic player is probably about as difficult as being a professional poker player. Nay, probably more so - once you get good at poker you can do it at a bare basic level, picking up just enough money to get by from a couple of good nights play a week in casinos in bars. Magic requires you to be sitting around waiting for Grand Prixs and pro-tours to appear. Doing well in those requires you to pit yourself up against hundreds of people who may be genetically brighter than you and better trained when it comes to the practice.
In fact what makes this more ridiculous is that even the guys who are really good at Magic in Ireland prioritize Magic as second to their full time employment. Our champions tend to be guys with multiple degrees in Pharmacy and Law. My single BA is probably not enough to cut the mustard in the academic skills required for excellent play. Now that's probably not really the reason I don't do well but I'm going to try and illustrate to you just how bad I am at the game and how supersilious I was getting.
Once a year though, every player has something to look forward to. The Irish Nationals. Bringing players from all thirty-two counties together for a weekend of playhing savage games of cards and drinking like fishes. You grow out of Christmas. As a magic player, you do not grow out of nationals.
In most counties, qualifying for nationals is a nightmare. The level of play skill is a whole nother level to the scrubs that rock up at the drafts or the FNMs with their Lorthos the Tidemaker combo decks. In fact fromn what I gather, anyone qualifying for their national event has probably done very well for themselves in just that feat. On our little emerald Isle, it's notoriously easy. You have little kids rocking up with unsleeved pre-con decks, with ill conceived notions of what they are actually likely to face. Anyone with half a brain and a few hundred quids worth of cards in their hands should make the grade no problem.
In the North of Ireland alone, we had 4 qualifiers. Each of those had about 30 people attending with 14 getting through. So basically, you just have to be better than half of the field? Yeah. That's it. In fact one of our qualifiers, yesterday had 16 people there. Ten made it through. I played 4 qualifiers and I couldn't get through any of them. I got beat consistently by people that I conceive to be worse than me. This isn't one of those gamer arrogance things either, this is half of the players in Northern Ireland wondering why I'm not qualified.
When I break down each qualifier, I see mistakes in most of them. I see my inability to deal with pressure and it's crushing.
People that most people around me were questioning how I got beat by them
Qualifier number one
After putting together the guts of Finest Hour Mythic the night before and running it with a few proxies in the FNM (we are allowed up to five proxies in our decks at FNM), I'm quite excited for this day. I mean, after all I won the FNM. The problem lies when I'm putting together the deck on the morning. No-one has the Baneslayers they can lend. The bigger problem lies within me getting the Finest Hours. No-one in Northern Ireland has even seen the mythic enchantment. It seemed like such an unlikely card to make a top deck it was ridiculous. Anyway, running Thornlings over Baneslayer Angels, I'm still thinking I can win enough. I come up against some junk in the first match. This guy is running Bladetusk Boars which whilst I really liked in Zendikar draft have limited reach even within a limited format. I win 2-0. Some other guy is playing some other junk for the second match. It doesn't make sense why he'd even bother showing up with his Lilianna Vess deck but I don't think anyone ever explained to him the notion of a good deck, poor guy, just needs a lot of practice. I soon get blown out of the water in the final three matches by decks packing 4 journey to nowhere's, oblivion rings and day of judgements. This mass control deck match up is too much for me to battle through, despite me and Niall singing a duet of "Touch too Much" by AC/DC, with me haven beaten him the night before with smart plays and proxies, he hoses me. Matt follows by by beating me with his mono-white jank control deck and at this point even if I win my next match, I still can't go through. I even try and be a dick by attempting to dream crush a friend. Pete beats me solidly with blue white control and can relax for the next few months.
After this I throw my first well known tantrum. The fucking tonka truck is hoofed right out of the pram. I'm slamming my deck on the table. Shit is bad. I'm for quitting Magic because I'm hit with the first slap of realizing I'm not as good as I think and my serious nature just doesn't cut it. After about two days of being pissed off, I come round to some realizations and pick up a few notions.
Lessons: Don't bring a half built deck to a qualifier. Play Jund.
Qualifier 2
At this point, Rise has been out for a month, I play Jund with Sarkhan in it and am coming up against decks that are likewise making the most of the format changes. Next level decks and decks throwing down Gideon. I play against Greg who's piloting a better version of Jund. Rather than my slightly cumbersome Savage Land heavy version of the G/R/B midrange, Greg throws down a Terramorphic Expanse, Lotus Cobra build that out-Junds me in the second game, five spells to my four. This I can handle, I've still got my hopes in it until a crushing third game. Turn two lotus cobra, turn 3 ruinblaster. Turn 4 ruinblaster. My hand extends and I shrug. All I have to do is win 3 matches out of the 4 remaning. My opponent for the second match would actually automatically be qualified on rating if he decided not to show up for that day. Anyway DJ is playing next level bant. He beats me first game, I beat him second. The third I play like a tool. I don't cast consuming vapours for no apparent reason. I don't cast Sarkhan the Mad for some other obscure reasonless piece of logic. Ok, ok, I'm paired down for the final three matches. Good start to the winning streak.. I hope. Round three is mono red. I win the first game by throwing the lightning bolts and terminates at the hell's thunders, goblin guides and lightning bolts before they have a chance to make an impact. Throw down two Sprouting Thrinaxs and blow him out by maelstrom pulsing the elemental tokens spawned by devastating summons. Game two I side in some more instant speed removal and suck some life up with a Malakir Bloodwitch. Unreal. I go to the pub to nab a drink before I go and play the next round. This time I'm facing down Mono Black Vampires. I don't fear it too much. Whilst Simon is a solid player, at that moment in time I didn't have a lot of belief in his deck archetype. He gets mana screwed in pretty much two games, I give him an apology and go for another pint to get me solidly relaxed for my final round. This time I'm playing off against a guy that isn't known for his technical ability and he is piloting his friend's Boros Bushwhacker. Whilst the deck wasn't that good, it had a pretty good match up against Jund and I get beaten horrendously 2-1, largely in part to an overwhelming God draw in the third game and my sheer stupidity. Yeah, despite Path to Exile being one of the most well used cards in standard, I completely forgot that it does more than just remove a creature from the game. It fixes my lands. Being able to cast Consuming Vapors on the third turn would have been pretty devasatating and might have given me a good chance but alas, I'm an idiot. Whilst I don't take it as badly as I did in the first qualifier as I know there are another two qualifiers, I end up getting incredibly drunk. So drunk in fact that after drinking for a solid seven hours, I try and steal a kebab, pee in a bin then I end up back at my friend's girlfriend's flat and I'm trying it on with her friend with such great lines as "Sarah? When are we going to bed?" Then hoovering the entire living room floor.
Lessons: Play Jund better. Remember what Path to Exile does. Just becauase you're drunk doesn't mean you're funny.
Qualifier 3
Ok this was just last Friday passed. I'm geared from the start for this format, I love limited and I've done fairly well in it in the past. I end up with the same sealed pool that I open as the sealed pool swap involes passing to the right then swapping with the person opposite you. I've got the weakest sealed pool at my table, with what seemed to be about five mythics, none of them mine but I should still be in a shot, playing big beats green and black, running two whispersilk cloaks to overpower my opponent with Spined Wurms. In match one this is exactly what I do, the guy has a similar pool to my own, but he's playing a splash of white which makes a sideboarded in Deathmark extremely potent in the third game. Round 2 I'm up against one of the top Southern players, the guy Fitz has the most broken U/W flyer pool since the one I opened at the pre-release. Sword of Vengeance, Air Servant, Serra Angel, Mind Control, Frost Titan, Angelic Arbiter. Games one he curves out pretty solidly as well, landing Stormfront Pegasus, Cloud Elemental, Assault Griffin and Serra Angel. There's just absolutely no way I can race that perfect curve whilst I'm dithering around casting spells like Sylvan Range and Cultivate to give me more lands in order to cast the green fatties. Game 2 I sideboard in a mountain to blast him with double combusts, but again he curves out and I never seem to draw my additional removal leaving me in a clustered mess. We play a few games after the match and I manage to win a few of them quite convincingly. I still think I can qualify seeing as that I got beaten by what seemed to be the most absurd deck in the room. Match 3 pits me against Michael Grough who I have a tendency to overwhelm in drafts. Game one I race him with a 4/4 steel overseeer and a Barony Vampire, making a huge problem for his Cloud Elemental with its unable to block non-flyers. Game two though the tables fully turn, he slaps down a White Knight turn 2 and has equipped a warlord's axe to it on turn 4. With a 5/3 first striking pro-black guy charging me down, I'm pretty much losing board just to avoid taking so much damage. He fireballs me out and it's over. Game 3 I face down much the same problem although it's not so much the white knight that is giving me jip, just about any creature with the warlord's axe equipped to it. Whilst I put in the combusts in for this match up I was quite tempted to put in white instead of red just to give me condem and solemn offering, something I really wish I had done. Despite eventually stabilizing, leaving him with one card in hand, no board and me having a whispersilk cloaked royal assassin, I get fireballed out for one more than lethal the turn after signing in blood into a Spined Wurm and an Overrun. I kind of had a hunch he had the fireball but I felt I had to draw the gas before he drew the last land. In fact we had a look at the deck and found he was two cards off the land. I wouldn't have had time to finish him off anyway. The fourth match I'm paired against an eight year old. My hopes are high, although I hear he has a solid deck, in fact he was at my table and was filled with glee as he opened a Grave Titan. Game one he hit me with an 8/8 flying Stone Golem. Game two he Diabolic Tutors for a Grave Titan, whilst I'm already on the backfoot hoping to draw the Plummet to the Armoured Ascensioned creature. At this point I scoop and try and prepare myself for the fourth and final qualifier.
Lessons: Learn to Sideboard better, don't get beat by eight year olds
Qualifier 4
This time it should have been too much of an issue at all but I'm already on tilt. Someone was for lending me a perfect RDW deck but I decide to opt for R/G tokens, a build that eventually won the very same nationals I was attempting to qualify for. Game one I face down Dave Glennon, the same guy who I beat in the first match of the sealed qualifiers. He's playing this G/W ramp deck that blasts out Overgrown Battlement, ramps into Summoner's Trap at the end of my turn 5, spitting out a Primeval Titan, tutoring for Eldrazi Temples that are activated by the turn 4 Garruk into an Emrakul. Game 2 goes much the same. Not to mention I draw dead for turn upon turn. Match 2 I'm facing off against some U/W control player. Now my deck usually has a good match up against it but I face off against Baneslayer in the first game with no monument to push the damage past. Game 2 there's a big hiccup in communication. Seeing that I'm massively on tilt I'm playing too fast and saying things I don't really mean, like "Go ahead" when I haven't taken my second turn, fail to realize my opponent has played his second turn when I'm going first and he thinks I'm onto my third. After picking up a game warning, I lose anyway, drawing nothing but lands turn after turn. In my third match I get trounced 2-1 by Pyromancer's Acenscion, drawing none of my sideboard cards ever (Acidic Slimes, Baloth). I shake hands and leave in silence only to run out the door and hoof a boot clean into the electrical cupboard, scaring two random passers by in the process. At this point I go to nail pints and spliffs to drown my sorrows and fight back the tears of rage and self loathing. Literally this thing fills me the whole way through the second day. It comes to me in the bath how I failed to learn any of my lessons from the previous four qualifiers.
Lessons: Always play Jund. Always. Don't tilt. Seriously, don't tilt. You're shit at magic. Nobody is going to feel sorry for you if you act like a douchebag higher than your station for the last four months. Magic is just a game, try and get a real career.
Enjoy yourself.
So there you have it. Playing magic occasionally puts life into perspective. I'm sure I could attempt to bring in tons of metaphors of magic in life like knowing the metagame of women in a bar. Like how some girls you need to be all passionate and Red Deck winsy with whilst others you need to be all showy offy with some retarded combo deck whilst others you just need to play it cool, not pay too much attention and U/W control them out of it by countering their spells (or knocking them down with insults). However this is would be largely contrived. Even more contrived would be for me to compare martial arts to decks too. Muay Thai might by R/G stompy by some stretch of the imagination, I'm sure.
*Until I discovered drugs