Jason Covenant

So you're saying that Emu should score the same as Ben because he's the underdog? I don't follow. I think people should get points based on the points they get, not because they're the "underdog" and not getting points. That seems to defeat the point of having a compo at all.

I've got another idea for a system that EVERYONE can get behind. Just send me beer and put your name on it. The more beer, the better your chances. I'll get wasted off of a different supply of alcohol and then eventually wander towards the fridge at some point. Being unable to see the labels on the beer bottles I am selecting, I will drink a large quantity of bottles but probably not all of them. After I've sobered up, I will tally the names on the empty bottles and reveal the results. Yes, but their votes should still count. Except that most people, top, middle and bottom don't want it. Not to mention voters. Our opinions are just as valid as yours. Please don't belittle us or accuse us of "using new systems" as a chance to put others down. We're disagreeing, but I don't think anyone's getting hard feelings about this. Right guys? If not, I'm sorry if I come across as "putting anyone down." That's not my intention. If being clear cut is our goal, why vote for a top 3 at all? Why not just have a vote for #1 and then give them all the points? That way the guy that won by a couple points can have 5, then everyone else can get a consolation "thanks for trying" 1 point.

Quite right. Regardless which system darkesword goes with in the end, I'll be keeping track: http://jasoncovenant.com/wcrg-scores I'll update it weekly. I'll move teams up and down the rows based on total points, so it's easy to see changes and progress. Feel free to double check my work. This is a community after all.

I'm not suggesting we vainly pursue perfectionism, only that we not pointlessly disenfranchise participants and voters. The current point system adds a whole other arbitrary layer to the point tallies. I don't think that layer is needed. Sorry things aren't going the way you'd like at work. For the record, I did notice your improvements in production and samples.

I'm aware of the current system. I'm disagreeing with it. I think it's fatally flawed for all involved. I won't begrudge darkesword for wanting to keep it, since it's his competition, but I think he should use a simpler, fairer system like people are suggesting and I'm volunteering to help with the math and display in such a system.

I volunteer to do it. I'll keep a running tally and host it.

I don't think it's any more difficult to add 57+48 than to say add 5+1. If this imposes great difficulty on anyone, I'd be happy to do it myself.

It's not just for people that try hard, do well, but don't end up in the top 3, but also for the voters who want their vote to actually translate into points for the mix they voted on. Of course this is primarily for fun, but part of that fun is following a coherent, competitive structure. If that was pointless, there'd be no reason for us to have a competition at all.

I'm also inclined to disagree with the current points system. Why not just use the actual scores from the votes? So Halc would get 64 points in first place, Brandon would get 57, etc. In the current system anyone who doesn't vote for the top 3 literally doesn't have their votes counted. Some voters may feel inclined to vote for whom they think will win, rather than who they want to win, just to ensure that their vote counts for something. Case in point, Sir Nuts' mix garnered 48 points, while the top mix earned 64 points. But Sir Nuts only got 1 point with the current system and the top mix got 5. That is clearly disproportionate. Like Bahamut said, it doesn't really convey the wishes of the voters very well.

surge protectors.....

Let me guess, timthumb? That plugin is notoriously insecure. Best to use a different plugin or the completely rewritten version. Also, I've built/managed a number of wordpress sites in the past so I know a thing or two about it. If you need any help on things like this, feel free to ask.

Here guys, use this: http://timeanddate.com/worldclock/city.html?n=861 It will tell you the time and date for the east coast so you'll always know what time it is there relative to where you are.

I know, I'm just really having trouble with my top 3. I'll have to listen to them some more. I'll definitely vote in time.

I think I'll be done by the deadline, but I wouldn't mind some more time as well.

Hmm, I should probably get started on mine. I mean, I've got an arrangement in my head, but I should probably work on it. Lulz.

I find that both hilarious and disturbing.

You can get wubs with simple filters. I'm not sure I fully understand your question. Are you just asking how to make wubs or what else you can add to a wub bass to make it "decent"? And I was wondering if anyone knew the best way to transition into a timpani solo in a progressive neo-polka death metaltronica remix while maintaining a jazz ballet organ quartet feel to it. Well, any suggestions?

You're still alive! Long time no see. I'll definitely check this out.

I'll represent my team this week.

Here is a link to a midi: http://vgmusic.com/new-files/mm10_wilystage1_v2.mid

And now for... The True* Story of the Concrete Men (part 2) 9:55 pm. 5 minutes til 10, the beginning of the greatest battle the universe has ever seen. *Thud* A drunken angel flew into a wall. "Looks like Lmaoroni is stone-drunk at a time of crisis. AGAIN." moaned Akuma. "Is that all you guys do in heaven, is drink?" inquired Jason. "You've got to understand that things are basically perfect in Heaven, so there's not much need to do anything. Also, we fight the forces of evil..." "...to protect your booze so that you can drink." added Jason. "Great Champion Akuma! Flex! I bring news from Heaven," said Lmaoroni as he stumbled closer, "God has finally beaten Super Meat Boy!" "Oh Heavens be praised! Finally, God will come and help us!" exclaimed Flex. "And, he has just gotten an advance copy of Skyward Sword!" "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" Flex shouted. "If only the mortals hadn't ever invented those blasted video games. God has done nothing else but play them since," lamented Lmaoroni. "Well, God says that he's researching the mortals when he plays them. And he used to let us play them too, until SOMEONE overwrote his Ocarina of Time save game when he was at 95% completion." said Akuma as he glared at Lmaoroni. "Hold on," began Lmaoroni, "I was just trying to start a new game. How was I supposed to..." "Guys, stop fighting. You're angels for crying out loud." Jason pleaded. "Prophecy's right..." said Flex. "...Jason. My name is Jason Covenant..." "...Prophecy, please don't interrupt. As I was saying, we must remember who the real enemy is, and I think we may need to consider how this may all go down. If Satan loses, his anger will be great and all the mortals here will be in danger. I have brought weapons, such as my flaming sword..." "Ooohhh. So it was SUPPOSED to be on fire." Jason remarked. He decided that now was an excellent time to quietly drop an empty fire extinguisher into a trash can behind him. "You put the flame out? I'm not mad...At least there's still my sword of a thousand venoms." "Uhh, oops, I thought it was a snake so I kinda bashed it to pieces with an empty fire extinguisher." "I'm not angry. Really, I'm not. Because at least there's still my starmetal morningstar and there's no way a mortal could harm such a powerful divine weapon." "Oh that shiny thing with the spikes was yours? Ooops." "Where is it Jason?" Flex said firmly. A twitch crept into his eye. "Look, I'm sure the pawnshop will accept refunds..." "YOU IMBECILE! YOU SOLD ONE OF THE MOST POWERFUL WEAPONS IN THE UNIVERSE TO A PAWNSHOP! It took God 10,000 years to make it in a forge in the center of the Universe. It took your Earth a mere 6 days to make 6,000 years ago!" Flex finally lost it. "Wait, hold on Flex. God specifically said that he made Earth 4.5 billion years ago, and I remember him doing it," said Akuma. "Nuh-uh. If he thought I didn't know the correct age of the Earth, do you think he would've tasked me with sharing it with the creationists?" "And if he thought I didn't know the correct answer, do you think he would've tasked me with telling the geologists the right answer?" "Look, we both went to the same seminar where God explained the origin of the Earth. Clearly one of us wasn't paying attention, and I seem to remember you downing gallons of Gabriel's Bourbon." "Pfft, I didn't have half as much bourbon as you had beer. Besides..." "...Uh, guys. Sorry to interrupt but Satan's coming this way." Lmaoroni interjected meekly. "I know you're mad at me right now guys, but let me talk to him. Trust me, I know how to handle it," said Jason. "What experience could you possibly have dealing with a being of pure evil?" demanded Flex. "Have you met my ex-girlfriend?" Satan came within earshot and the angels took a deep breath. Satan was an intimidating figure. "Hey Steve, how's it going?" Jason asked casually. "My name is Satan, not Steve. Fear me mortal, for I am the dark lord and great terror of the universe." "So Satin, isn't Satin like a soft fabric? A soft, yielding fabric?" "Hush mortal before I kill you. I just came to tell your friend Flex that I'm going to crush him in this competition, then kill him and everyone else here afterwards." "Blah blah blah, villian cliches, blah blah. You're not going to do anything of the sort. In fact, I suggest that you forfeit this competition right now before I take all of your power," Jason said with a grin. "Hahaha, and how does a mortal plan to do that?" laughed Satan. "I've sent invitations to all of the lawyers, politicians and used car salesmen to attend my new clinic with the promise of free hookers and crack. When they arrive at the clinic, instead they will be brainwashed into being good and doing whatever that priest I hired says is needed to get into heaven. You won't get their souls and your power will wither til you can't even conquer a Dairy Queen, much less Heaven." "Ok, I'll just kill you now before you can do any of that." "Sure, go ahead, it's your funeral. The plan is already in motion and I'm the only one that can stop it. Kill me and prepare to fight for your life the next time a blind kitten wanders into Hell." "You...you wouldn't. Surely you are bluffing. Angels, you can't tell a lie, is he bluffing?" Satan was clearly disturbed by Jason's plan. "Well Satan, he's crazy. I wouldn't put it past him," answered Akuma. "Mortal, I'm not sure I believe you but it doesn't matter. I am far too near my goal. Even if you took all my infernal powers, I'd still have the divine beer." "And bourbon!" added Akuma. "Whatever. I will deal with you later mortal, after I crush your friends in this mix-off. Farewell pestilence." And with that, Satan went back to his side of the floor. Only 2 minutes left on the clock. "Jason, I must admit that was impressive. I think you really screwed with his head. You've finally done something useful." Flex was trying to be complimentary. "Useful!? What about all I taught you?" "All you said was that "the bass is in you" a few times and drank beer. Once you got so wasted that you told Akuma he did the right thing in turning his Millenium Falcon around to help his friends on Hoth. And you kept calling me Chewbacca or Chewie. Then you began shoving these strange human health snacks in my face and asking me, "Chewie want a chewy? Chewie want a chewy bar?"" said an expasperated Flex. "Ok, but at least I gave you a place to stay." "You made us sleep on the balcony! It was snowing outside and you have a spare room." "Yea but that's the beer room. It's sacred. Only myself and the cat are allowed in there, you know that. Frankly, I'm not sure I like your tone. Why should I help you guys protect YOUR booze?" "All of the booze on Earth is just a cheap reflection of what is in Heaven. If it disappears there, it will disappear on Earth too." "OH HELL NO!" Jason pulled out a gun and fired several rounds at Satan. "DIIIIIEEEE!!!!" "Foolish mortal, that won't hurt me," shouted Satan and then he looked down and saw that his turntables had been shredded by bullets, "FFFFFFFUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!" "He uses those turntables for a lot his transitions. That should give you an edge." Jason explained. "I'm sorry I got angry," said Flex. "Don't be silly, I've totally screwed things up. I ruined your weapons." "And I should've destroyed Satan with my voice instead of talking to him before. Now I've lost that power. I'm sorry this responsibility fell on you guys." They knew that they would have to work together to defeat Satan, but time was running out for plans. Less than 30 seconds on the clock. The fruition of all their preparations was at hand. Then Satan crushed Flex in the mix-off and everyone lived happily ever after. Just kidding! The final battle finally begins next time in part 3! (Sorry, was planning on ending it in part 2 but I ended up thinking of a lot more dialogue than expected.)

Thanks. Don't know anything about the compo, but since you suggested it, I'll look into it. There will definitely be a part 2. =)

Hahaha! Well that's just because we usually talk about alcohol and music. I think the two go together very well. Guess my interests are narrow. Speaking of avatars, looks like I've joined the bandwagon. Yay Yamato Man.

Don't worry, he ALWAYS has bourbon in one hand and a mic in the other. I've never been able to figure out how he drives like that. Guess his talent isn't limited to music!

Now that we've got team names, I'd say it's time for team bios. I'll start with ours: The True* Story of The Concrete Men It all began when the angels AkumajoBelmont and Flexstyle attended a party in heaven. Akuma poured down gallons of Gabriel's Bourbon while Flex indulged in massive quantities of Guinness Extra Divine. There was after all, much to be celebrated having just routed the forces of Hell. The battle had been going badly at first, but Akuma used his divine voice to heal and resurrect fallen comrades, rendering Hell's forces impotent to cause permanent casualties. While Flex had fought valiantly, he felt that he had not done enough to turn the tide of battle. His forlorn demeanor became apparent to Akuma. "Brother, why art thou dost forlorneth?" "Eh, just getting really sick of all this exaggerated Olde English stuff," replied Flex. "Oh, sorry. You should have another drink!" chortled Akuma. "It's not just that. You saved everyone in the battle, and what did I do? I only slayed a few demons here and there. Wait, is it slayed or slain? Slew?" Before Akuma could respond, the angel Lulzaroni ran onto the divine dance floor gasping, "Where is champion Akuma? Satan himself is at the gates!" Akuma, Flex and all the other angels rushed to the gates, and sure enough, there was Satan in all of his dark might. Standing over 50 feet tall, and bristling with thick, sharp scales that would make a red dragon green with envy, he casually burped several balls of flame. "All of this bloodshed -- what has it gotten us? Really guys, war, what is it good for? So I challenge your greatest champion to a duel of his choosing and we can end this conflict once and for all," spoke Satan in his booming voice. "You're only saying that because your army has been decimated!" shouted the angel Roflroni. "Yea, you just want our beer!" piped the angel Lmaoroni. "And bourbon. Don't forget the divine bourbon." Bellowed Akuma with his mighty divine voice of divineness which was divine. Even Satan seemed taken aback by his powerful timbres. "Yes, it is true I just want the divine alcohol you possess. You have no idea how boring Hell is. Everything I get just burns. A mortal died the other day and showed up in Hell with an xbox 360 in his hands. I only got to play it for two minutes before it completely melted," Satan intoned, his voice pleading and full of sorrow, "and if I could just get some of that cold divine brew I could entertain myself with mindless intoxication." "You desire to combine your vain, materialistic stain of a soul with mindless intoxication? You mean like the Jersey Shore?" inquired the angel Roflroni. "Satan you know that you cannot hope to defeat Akuma and his gilded larynx. Why do you waste our time?" demanded the angel Gabriel. "I do not intend to challenge Akuma's voice. I may be evil, but I'm not stupid. My dark sorcerors have placed a curse on him and it should kick in any minute now.....Well Akuma, how do you feel?" said Satan. "I feel fine." "Ok, how 'bout now?" "Nope, still good." "Now?" "Sorry Satan, but your dark magic....." Suddenly Akuma's voice went hoarse and he could barely speak. "Muahahaha! Your great champion's power is vastly diminished thanks to esophageal cancer! Now, are any amongst you brave enough to challenge me or should I just start taking inventory of my new divine collection of delectable brews?" Satan said triumphantly. The angels cowered in fear and averted the eyes of the dark lord. Flex alone stood forward and shouted, "I will challenge you to a duel Satan! Let us have a mix-off on Earth! And if I win, you can never return to this realm or Earth!" "And if I win, I get your brew." "Deal!" The angels were very concerned that Satan would slaughter Flex at the mix-off. Satan did win the universe-wide dj mix-off competition every year. "Seriously Flex, couldn't you have challenged him to something he's NOT insanely good at, like say, a competition to see who can go the longest without burping flame?" "Relax. I got this. I have been training diligently for such an occasion," said Flex, "besides knowing Satan he'd never agree to something he thought he could lose." The angel Lolroni asked, "Why can't we get God to help?" "He's busy playing Super Meat Boy and asked not to be disturbed remember?" responded Flex, "I wish he'd just beat that game and be done with it." "Perhaps we should get a strategy guide from the mortals." suggested Lmaoroni. "Wait, hold on, God just sent me a text. He said for Flex to go to Earth and find the Prophecy." Gabriel said as he stared at his phone. "And what does the Prophecy say?" asked Flex. "Prophecy is a person, not a religious prediction central to a plot in this case," responded Grabriel. "Prophecy, a name? Well that's dumb...and how horribly uncreative. Well, I hope I find this Prophecy on Earth." Flex and Akuma departed for Earth and found themselves on a dirt path next to a forest. Akuma, still unable to speak, kept writing the word "bourbon" in the dirt, using a stick. Flex patiently reminded him that he had just drunk all of Heaven's bourbon supply and it would be some time before Gabriel could make more. Akuma's eyes expressed his intense sadness when his mouth could not. He seemed ready to write "bourbon" again when a man came walking along. "You, good mortal sir, can you help us? We are looking for one called Prophecy." pleaded Flex. "Uh, Prophecy? I don't use that name anymore, I'm now called Jason Cov-" "Splendid! We have found you at last Prophecy!" exclaimed Flex. "Um, yea, ok. Any particular reason you have wings? Halloween isn't for another week or so." "Well you see, we're from Heaven and we're trying to protect our beer from Satan but he used a curse on Akuma to give him esophageal cancer..." "Oh, I've got some bourbon. Here you go." After drinking the mortal bourbon, Akuma's condition began to improve and he was able to speak again, though his powers were still greatly diminished. He would need Gabriel's Bourbon before his powers could be fully restored. Flex and Akuma explained to Prophecy, err, Jason the situation they were in and the need to defeat Satan in a mix-off. "No worries Flex, I can teach you how to mix." Jason said. "Actually, I already know how to mix. Here, listen to this." Flex broke out a cd of his music and played the first track. "Hey, this is pretty good. Actually, it's really good. Whoever this Stan guy is sure has his work cut out for him." "Thanks, but his name is Satan and he's kind of the ultimate evil. Anyways, here's one of Satan's mixes." Flex put on one of Satan's worst mixes and the contrast was immediately apparent. The percussion felt like being hit with a freight train with every thud, while the synths were both massive and tightly mixed in ways that seemed impossible. The production was so slick and detailed that it seemed he had mixed it down to fractions of individual hertz. The riffs were so catchy that the neighbors abruptly stopped everything they were doing to listen. "Jeez this guy is amazing! Holy crap you're completely screwed. Err, I mean you've got your work cut out for you. Uh, is it too late for you to run away?" "Running away is not an option. If I fail, Satan will gain control of Heaven's beer supply." "And bourbon!" Akuma chimed in, glad to be able to speak again. Jason shuddered at such a terrible thought, "Alright, I think I can help you. I'm not good enough to beat this Santa guy, but with my help, you should be able to. I will teach you the ways of concrete." "Concrete?" "Yes. I was walking home next to a nuclear power plants with crumbling concrete cooling towers, when I was bitten by a piece of radioactive concrete." "Uh, bitten?" "Excuse me, did I say bitten? I meant "struck on the head by some jerk hiding behind a bush." Anyways, after that encounter I developed the power to control bass any way I saw fit. And you can too. Just remember that the bass is not in the sequencer, it is within you. Oh, and here's some radioactive concrete." Jason handed Flex and Akuma each a piece of concrete with a green glow, which they accepted hesitantly. Flex trained daily, and soon it was time for the big showdown. The rules are quite simple: Each contestant gets on opposite ends of a long, rectangular dance floor. Unknowing mortals wander in through the middle where both mixes clash. Because clashing mixes are hard to dance to, they must pick a side and go to that side to dance. The contestant with the most dancers on his side by the end of 10 minutes wins the mix-off. Satan's massive frame lumbered in through the large double doors. Little did Flex know just how hard he'd been training, and how much better the dark lord had gotten. Indeed, Satan had reached a whole new level of ability. Flex had improved too, but would it be enough? Satan leered lustily at his opponent across the floor, licking his lips savoring the booze to come. The mix stations were set. Turntables ready and sequencers on. Flex, Akuma and Jason finished their preparations and began watching the time tick down. The most important battle in the history of the universe was about to start. Part 2, coming soon!