"What Have I Become?"

For my last couple of posts, especially my most recent, which dealt with the film Animal House, I have done topics that have been irreverent in nature and trivial in underlying meaning. For this post, however, I have decided to write about a topic that is irreverent in nature, yet serious in its underlying meaning. Now, before you judge this post based on the topic itself, give me a chance to explain why this is a serious post that I take wholeheartedly. The tale is a deep and moving story, and upon further inspection, it tells a truth about human nature that we just can't seem to escape.

God of War is a video game (yes, it's a post about a video game) that tells the tale of a Spartan general named Kratos who, for various reasons through multiple games, is on a quest for vengence. Kratos was a remarkable general, leading his army of thousands to countless victories. Despite the brutal and unrelenting nature of the Spartan army and their bloodthirsty leader, they were no match for the invading barbarian army. Kratos, in a final effort to snatch victory for his army, he pledged his soul to Ares, the Greek god of war. Ares, seeing promise in the young commander, descended from Olympus to deliver Kratos his victory. In return, Kratos was Ares' unflinching disciple, carrying out his master's orders without question or remorse. Kratos murdered innocent servants of the other Olympians, namely Athena, and destroyed countless villages, all in service to his insane lord.

Kratos carried out all of his orders without question, until one night, Ares tasked him to burn to the ground a village, built in the service of Athena. Kratos, standing before the ominous wooden doors of the village's temple, was warned by the village oracle never to step inside. Pushing her aside, Kratos kicked in the doors and fell upon the servants of Athena without mercy, slaying and murdering in a mad bloodlust all in his path. When he finally regained his rationality, he looked on in horror at the bodies of his two final victims: his own wife and daughter. This was a cruel trick masterminded by Ares to sever all ties to Kratos' former life, leaving him free to hone his strength and, in Ares' words, become "Death itself." However, Kratos vowed revenge on the god of war who had taken from him the only thing he ever truly loved. After ten long years of service to the other gods, Kratos was finally delivered his revenge on Ares, killing the god of war after a long and drawn-out adventure that I don't have any time to explain.

The tale told in God of War, as extreme as it may be, is a metaphor for how far people will go for what they desire. Kratos' only desire was power, which was delivered to him in full. He was given more power than any mortal could dream of, and that power only grew with each task completed for his master. But at what cost? With each innocent person he killed, with each village he burned, with each sin he committed against each and every one of the gods, more of Kratos' humanity was robbed, until he was little more than a beast who cared only for the thrill of slaughter and war. It wasn't until everything was taken from him that he realized what his service to Ares had done to him. He asked himself upon his journey in the game, when gazing upon the work of his former master, "By the gods, what have I become?"

How far will we go for what we desire? How much of ourselves are we willing to sacrifice for what we claim to pine? How many will we trample underfoot to get what we want? Are our dreams worth our lives? Kratos' weren't. Are yours?

Airborne Go-Carts in 12 Sentences

When I was about ten or eleven years old, I had a go-cart, a small little thing, its tires the size of a small frozen pizza, its steering wheel the size of a doughnut, its seat barely big enough to fit an eleven-year-old boy who hadn't hit a growth spurt in since third grade, and its protective bars about as thick as a hot dog. It was made for a track in dry weather; I abused it on the bumpy field outside my dad's shop in the rain far too often. This thing, essentially a motorized hamster ball, was the outlet of many of my boyhood fantasies, most of which involved pretending I was a spaceship pilot. Today, however, I drove the thing across the rain-soaked yard, through the four-foot-tall grass that was mowed down to make a track, through the sharp and mildly hazardous corners, and over the ankle-deep puddles. I thought that I could hit the wet and sharp corners safely despite my father's warning. Bad idea. It seemed that when I hit the corner I was beginning to tilt and that the tilt was getting more severe and that eventually none of the four tires were on the ground. I was in the air for about five seconds, and promptly came back down hard. My father did I see running towards me as myself I pulled from the bent aluminum frame. "Can we do that again?" I staggered from the "wreckage" and laughed and hugged my dad out of necessity because if you had a kid who just wrecked a small car in front of you you'd want to hug him too. The pouring rain gave zero visibility, the ankle-deep puddles that caused the whole episode, and the knowledge that the coolest thing that had ever happened to me had just happened made the whole ordeal, as scary as it was for about five seconds, a memorable moment in the best way possible.

What Harold Ramis Really Meant

Animal House, the greatest college movie of all time, is a work of cinematic genius. It is one of the funniest movies of all time and is my personal favorite movie. Harold Ramis, the ingenius director behind the whole comedic masterpiece, created in Animal House what most comedy directors would sell their souls to create. The many protagonists--Bluto, Flounder, Boone, Otter, D-Day, and the myriad of others--create lasting impressions on the viewer that will remain with one no matter how long between viewings. Through their ridiculous antics and pranks against the dean of the college (they killed a horse in the dean's office with a gun that shot blanks) and their hysterical hijinks among themselves (the legendary toga party), the characters seem to take on a life of their own and make the movie seem that much more real.


The movie, while at the same time being the greatest comedy ever, echoes the everpresent idea of acceptance and equality. The Deltas, the notorious party fraternity to which the protagonists belong, is constantly being harassed by the dean of the college and the prep house, the smug Omegas. The Deltas earnestly try to make life at the stuffy college tolerable by having as much fun as they can: by pulling pranks and throwing parties. Because they don't necessarily "fit in" with the more upper-crust crowd at the college, the dean tries his best to make life for the Deltas a veritable hell. He gives them "double secret probation," which means if the Deltas screw up one more time, their charter is revoked. No questions, no nothing. Strike one and you're out. As the dean so eloquently put it, "It's time to grab the bull by the balls and kick those Deltas out of this college!" How lovely.


This seems to show a theme of intolerance towards anyone who is different or maybe not of the same social class as another. The Deltas, being social outcasts at the college, are shunned by the higher-ups, and are passed off as grotesque, barbaric, and vulgar. However, the Omegas don't even know them, and are quick to judge, even though most of the people at the school believe they have problems themselves. At the same time, it seems only the people of prominence are intolerant of the Deltas. By the turnout of their numerous parties, it seems that many people at the college actually like the Deltas. Could be a clever representation of how the general public have no problem with diversity while the people who run the show can't stand anything that differs from their idea of normality?

Now, I highly doubt that Harold Ramis was really trying to convey this. At the same time, he might have. I mean, the man was in Ghostbusters and directed this masterpiece of cinematic comedy, so who knows? And, yes, I was able to make a sharp accusation at the government by using Animal House as a take-off point. How, you ask? Because I'm just that good.