The Coop   Members

Thanks djp Right now, I honestly have no idea. There was some talk (as I'm sure you saw), but I haven't been told or seen anything beyond that.

The thread is live!

Yep. It's that time of year and you know what that means... CHRISTMAS MUSIC! This year, we've got 14 songs that cover quite the spectrum of genres. Taking traditional carols and songs from various games, 13 artists have given them a Christmasy makeover. You can grab them all right here (the songs, not the artists), along with the previous 11 albums... http://www.williammichael.info/aocc/index.htm As always, a big thanks to everyone who took part this year and to Dyne for once again hosting this album. Merry Christmas, folks

And that, good people, is that. No more submissions, as it's time for me to wrap this package up. And no, that's not a euphemism... maybe.

Final PM sent out, folks. Any stragglers have 19 hours and 44 minutes left.

Thanks This one was 15 pages of stanzas. I wrote a number of them that were about 24-27 pages. They should still be around on the site if you do a "twas" search.

Get it to me before 11:59 P.M. on Dec. 20 (EST), and it'll be fine. That means you've got a little over 45 hours.

What's that? It's December 18? Well, then that must mean it's time for the next 'Twas poem, right? Right. This one's not as long as past entries, but it's still not short either. So grab a drink, get comfy and here we go! 'Twas XVII: Moments Passed and Yet To Come by The Coop 'Twas the night before Christmas and up in the sky, Santa's sleigh could be seen as it went flying by. Over each rooftop, he'd pause for just a moment, then down and back up each chimney was where he went. All Christmas Eve night, Santa had gone through his list, making sure not one of the good children were missed. But now his long night was growing close to its end. He had one neighborhood left before he could mend his weary old bones with a nice soothing hot bath and leave the world to enjoy his work's aftermath. Down below, in a home Santa had yet to reach, sat a man by the name of Billy Collenpreech. In his chair, with a beer held securely in-hand, he watched as his daughter Fay tried again to stand. Behind the little girl, stood Billy's wife, Danielle, ready to catch the girl if she stumbled and fell. Both Billy and Danielle had smiles on their faces as they watched their child from their respective places. “C'mon, honey,” Billy said in his Texas drawl. “Try it once more b'fore it's bedtime fer us all.” Little Fay made one more wobbly attempt to stand, but onto her diapered rear was where she did land. “OK, that's enough,” Danielle chuckled and picked up her daughter and added, “It's bedtime, buttercup.” With young Fay safely cradled in her arms, Danielle gave Billy a kiss with, “I'm turning in as well.” “Alright, babe,” Billy smiled. “I'll be up in a bit.” She nodded, went upstairs, and left Billy to sit alone in the living room before a warm fire. But a minute later, his eyes were filled with ire. They soon drifted up to the mantle where he saw a picture of his father sitting on some straw. Though it didn't leave, Billy's ire faded a bit as he stared at the photo and focused on it. “Merry Christmas, old man,” Billy said with a smile before he fell quiet again for a short while. Slowly, the ire returned to his sleep-laden stare as he finished his beer and remained seated there. He looked to the lit tree and the gifts at its feet, while he relaxed in the comfort from the fire's heat. As his eyelids grew heavy, his stare moved over the tags on the gifts that Fay had coming to her. Each had “from Mom” or “from Dad” written on its face. “From Santa” wasn't written on them, anyplace. Despite the weariness on Billy's face, a frown grew in just as his eyelids finally came down. Some two hours went by and Santa came to the last house on his list, with, “I had best do this one fast.” His sleigh landed quietly upon the home's roof, with not a sound made by either a boot or hoof. He slipped down the chimney and quickly found the tree, all set to put down a couple gifts and then flee. But as Santa tried to, he then heard someone say, “Well, if it ain't ol' Saint Nick droppin' by t'day.” Santa froze in his tracks and let out a soft sigh. “Hello, Billy,” he said and turned to face the guy. Billy stood at the base of the steps with a glare that was fixed on the jolly one that stood near there. Billy straightened his bathrobe and said with a sneer, “I'm kinda su'prised t' see that you'd come 'round here.” “It's what I do, Billy,” Santa said quite plainly. “Every good girl and boy gets a visit from me.” “Uh huh,” Billy said snidely. “I'd always heard that. But somehow, I never got shit from yer ol' fat-” “Look, this isn't the time,” Santa quickly cut in. “My time, mood and patience have been worn very thin.” “Don't care,” Billy said bluntly. “I got things t' say an' yer gonna listen t' them this Christmas day.” “Look-” Santa said, his voice raised as he shook his head. Then, in a forceful whisper, “Shut it!” Billy said. “Keep yer damn voice down! My wife and kid's still sleepin'. Now, ya sewed these seeds, son. Time ya started reapin'.” “Fine,” Santa huffed and with a snap of his fingers, in Billy's warm home, they did no longer linger. Instead, they stood outside and were surrounded by miles of cold falling snow, which made Billy decry, “What th' hell?!” as he wrapped his arms around his chest. “Ya can't drag me out here with th' way that I'm dressed! “At least make it warmer 'fore I freeze m' nuts off an' lose what th' doc grabs 'fore he tells me t' cough!” “Fine,” Santa said bluntly and gave a second snap, which put some warm clothes on the crabby and cold chap. “Better?” asked Santa. “Yeah,” Billy said. “I s'ppose. What's with bringin' me here? I can't feel m' damn toes.” “You said not to wake up anyone,” Santa said. “So I brought you out here to yell at me instead.” With a stern and harsh stare, Billy stiffened his back. “Damn right I wanna yell,” he grumbled. “Yer a sack a' shit fer givin' me squat when I was a kid. I should punch ya in th' face fer th' shit ya did!” “And what did I do?” Santa asked with hints of ire. “Ya know damn well what!” Billy yelled with anger's fire. “Year after year, I sent letters t' yer fat ass! I asked ya fer some toys, but all ya did was pass “by my house every time an' not leave a damn thing! A big bag a' nothin'. That's the shit ya would bring! “My Pop would tell me, 'Maybe next year he'll come by,' like that would help me much while I tried not t' cry. “But nope, th' next year would be just th' same damn crap. Nothin' t' play with an' not one thing t' unwrap. “My Pop couldn't get nothin', cuz we was too broke. An' when I turned 18, he died from a bad stroke. “It's cuz a' yer ass that I never got th' joy a' openin' up presents when I was a boy. “But now I got me a kid. She'll turn one next year. An' she don't want nothin' from yer damn ass, ya hear?! “I'm givin' her th' Christmas that I didn't get. An' on that, ya fat bastard, ya can damn sure bet. “So whatever ya brought, jus' take that shit away back up t' the north pole, or wherever ya stay. “Ya ignored me, Santa, when I counted on you. Ya gave me th' finger, now yer getting' one too!” Billy held up his middle finger to St. Nick. “How d' ya like it,” he yelled, “ya fat fuckin' prick?!” Taking a deep breath, Santa held onto his cool. “Listen Billy,“ he said, “You broke rule after rule. “You didn't behave, were mean to many a kid, and you're wondering just why I did what I did?” Billy yelled, “Ya did it cuz ya get off on it! Ya got kicks from leavin' kids like me with jack shit.” “Nonsense,” Santa stated, with an insulted look. “Do you honestly think pleasure was what I took “from leaving you nothing on each Christmas morning? That it made me smile to deliver such a sting “to a child on the day that no kid should feel sad? But I can't reward both the good kids and the bad. “And let me say, Billy, you were in no way good. You were a rather bad seed from where I had stood.” Billy let out a laugh with, "Don' gimme that crap.” Santa sighed, “Want to know what gave you your bad rap?” "I was a good kid!" Billy said in a riled huff. "Not really," Santa said. "Let's revisit some stuff. "You used your brother's diapers as a supply for leaving fiery turd traps at each neighbor's front door.” "That was jus' some good harmless fun!" Billy then yelped. "If they didn't laugh, well, that jus' couldn't be helped." "Uh huh," Santa said and stared from under his brow. "That excuses the hundred times you did it... how?" Billy stayed silent. "That's what I thought," Santa said before he continued, "What else is in my head? "We can not forget how many times you went and took toys and candy from many a young child's hand. "Or the pleasure you took when you told kids that I didn't exist and laughed when you made each child cry. “The children you beat up, who were weaker than you. The adults you harassed, while insulting them too. “The money that you stole, the belongings you broke, the handicaps you mocked as if they were a joke. “You caused so many people a lot of dismay, and did so with such glee practically every day. “And how you turned out like that just doesn't make sense, since I know you weren't raised that way by your parents.” Billy scowled at Santa and then looked all around at the cold, barren landscape of snow-covered ground. “All kids d' shit like that,” he frustratedly sighed. “No they don't, Billy,” Santa quietly replied. “All the things you did gave you a warped sense of pride. And you wouldn't let up until each child had cried.” “I'm done with this,” Billy said with an angry sneer. “Now knock this horseshit off an' get me outta here.” Santa let out a sigh. “If you want me to, fine. But but before I do, listen to these words of mine. “Lots of kids cried and were hurt all because of you. But I know they weren't alone. That you were hurt too. “I didn't want to ignore you on Christmas day or cause you the hurt that you still feel to this day.” “I ain't hurt,” Billy mumbled as he looked away. “Now jus' take me home. I said all I have t' say.” “So you didn't cry as a child?” Santa asked him. “And this meeting tonight was just done on a whim? “You didn't have some things to get off of your chest with the swearing, memories, and things you addressed?” Billy stood silent and still. He made no comment. In time, Santa came up and said, “You got to vent. “You got to say what you felt. To yell and to shout. Now just take one minute and hear this old man out. “I know you're mad at me but think this whole thing through. Don't make your daughter endure the things you had to. “I can't give back those moments where you were let down. I can't undo what you felt or erase each frown. “But your young daughter Fay is just starting her life. Don't make her endure the same kind of pain and strife “that you brought upon yourself by acting so wild. Don't let your beef with me also affect your child.” Silence hung in the air. Neither uttered a word as Billy mulled over all that he had just heard. When Santa got no reply, he said, “But, if you want me to not visit, then that's what I will do.” Billy looked at Santa and didn't say a thing. A couple moments later, a bright flash did spring into being that filled the air with blinding light. But it quickly faded and returned Billy's sight. From endless barren snow fields and frigid cold air, Billy found himself back in his living room, where everything had started just a short time ago. He was back in his bathrobe and sat in the glow of the Christmas lights that shown from within the tree. That was when he heard his wife call to him, “Billy?” “I'm here, babe,” he said as he looked back at the stairs from where he was sitting in his old comfy chair. “Did you sleep down there last night?” his wife then asked him. “I guess so,” he replied in a tone somewhat grim. He turned his gaze to the VCR's glowing clock and saw it read 6 A.M., which came as a shock. “Was that all real or a dream?” he asked quietly. His body then shivered. “Seemed pretty real t' me.” Danielle walked down the steps to the living room, where she could see Billy as he got up from his chair. “Merry Christmas,” she chimed with a smile as she came over to her husband, who then wished her the same. She gave him a kiss, with, “You look pretty tired, hun.” “Jus' had a weird dream, “ he said, “which wasn't much fun.” “About what?” she asked, her voice holding some concern. “Jus' old times,” he said, feeling his memories churn. “Let me guess,” she said as she took her husband's hand. “How your Christmas' as a kid weren't all that grand?” He nodded his head before she gave him a kiss and said, “Those times were bad, but I promise you this. “They're done and gone, honey. They won't ever come back. Joy on this holiday's something you'll never lack “as long as you've got me beside you in your life.” It was with a warm smile that he then kissed his wife. They sat for a time on the sofa and just spoke of unimportant things till their daughter awoke. It wasn't long before Danielle, Billy and Fay were opening the presents they'd gotten that day. While Billy and Danielle exchanged gifts for a while, Fay was playing with the large wrapping paper pile. Though the child got some toys and things of that nature, the paper was more fun. Of that, she seemed quite sure. When the giving was done and nothing was left wrapped, Danielle and Billy relaxed while Fay simply napped. Danielle looked around from where she and Billy sat, when something caught her eye and she asked, “Now, what's that?” “What's what?” Billy asked from where he sat at her side. “Right there,” she said and pointed at what she had spied. Billy looked to the spot where his wife was pointing and saw a gold envelope that was glittering from where it sat nestled under the Christmas tree. Billy stood and picked it up with, “Huh. It's fer me.” He looked over at his wife and as he stood there, his eyes became wide and filled with a panicked stare. His wife wasn't moving. She looked frozen in place. He looked down at Fay with great concern on his face. The babe too looked motionless, as if stuck in time. He glanced about as his fear continued to climb. “What th' hell's goin' on?” Billy asked quietly, with the envelope still held in his hand firmly. He was about to yell out when his expression changed and quickly became one of great suspicion. “Santa?” he called out. “Is this yer doin' in here?” When he got no response, “Knock it off now, ya hear?” Everything stayed still as Billy shook his head and tore open the envelope he held in his hand. He took out the letter and unfolded it so, over what was written there, he could quickly go. “'Billy,'” the letter started. “'I just want to say a few final things to you on this Christmas day. “'I know you're not fond of the things I said to you, but taking them to heart is what I hope you'll do. “'You're past is over and it's something you can't change. But know that I hope what you took from our exchange “'is that I never meant to make you hurt or cry. It pained me to do it as each Christmas went by. “'I'm sorry I helped cause your painful memories, but what I would like to ask is if you could please “'not let our past affect Fay as she gets older. I don't feel it's something she should have to shoulder. “'While I know those pains are ones you don't like to feel, use them to show Fay how not to be so that she'll “'get to have the Christmas' that you missed out on. Let her enjoy these warm times before they've all gone. “'Teach her to be kind to others throughout her life, and let your scars mend with help from her and your wife. “'Christmas day should be happy, not spite-filled or sad. So let her have the moments that you never had. “'Teach her all the lessons that you learned the hard way so that she'll never reach the point you did today. “'But the call's yours to make and I will say no more. I hope you find happiness with those you care for. “'And if you see fit to let me give gifts to Fay, you'll have my humble thanks on each new Christmas day.'” The letter then vanished, like a shadow in light, which left Billy surprised and confused at the sight. “Where'd it go?” Danielle said, which pulled Billy's stare to his wife, who now moved and looked rather confused too. With a sigh of relief, he then looked down at Fay; at how peacefully she was napping where she lay on the wrapping paper that she'd played with so much. As he did so, he began to smile just a touch. “Hun?” Danielle called, which brought him to look over at the way his wife looked so bewildered where she sat. “Where's the envelope I saw?” she asked him again. Billy looked thoughtful for a few moments, and then he came over to her and sat right at her side. “Trick a' th' light?” he shrugged with a smile that grew wide. Though she still was sure that she had seen something there, it wasn't long before they continued to share the enjoyment of having their first Christmas day as a new family with their young daughter, Fay. That night, right after Danielle and Fay went to bed, Billy stared at the tree, thinking of what he'd read that morning when all had suddenly become still. He was quiet at first, but soon uttered, “I will.” A smile then came to him as he turned his eyes to the fireplace and the dancing flames within, too. “Guess I should say thanks,” he said, “both fer givin' me a bit a' advice, Santa, an' some clarity.” He nodded a touch and went through his quiet house. He turned off all the lights. And the fire, he did douse. And once he'd turned off the very last Christmas light, “Merry Christmas,” he said. “An' t' all, a good night.”

That's because you jumped in at the proverbial last minute with an already finished song the afternoon before I sent the PMs out. The PM was just a reminder for those still working that the deadline's coming up, so there wasn't anything of importance for you to be concerned about. Plus, I hadn't added your name to the remixer list yet (it's where I grab the names for my PM list), so there was an "out of sight, out of mind" factor in there as well.

For those who haven't checked, PM #6 was sent out last night.

Yay indeed

PM #5 has been sent out.

If I may ask, what information has taken (potentially) five months for someone to give?

On VGMix quite a few years ago, a remixer named Void was posting what he passed off as remixes that he'd done. Some where longer and better than others, but there were a number that were based on songs from games that very few people had heard of (he posted a couple that were from Golden Axe or Panzer Dragoon Saga as well, I believe). He even got a fair bit of praise for what many thought was his work. However, after a couple of years, someone found one of "his" remixes and pointed out that it was actually done by someone else (I want to say it was on a Japanese MIDI album or something like that, but I'm not sure... it's been a while to say the least). It didn't take long before more of "his" songs were discovered to be plagiarized and he was pretty much shown the door on the website. So the TL;RD is that he was posting the published remixes from obscure Japanese game OSTs as his own and got caught.

Void. Now now, I know what people think when Void comes to mind. Yes, he was a liar, a music thief and he basically fucked himself right out of the remixing community back in the early 2000s. However, what his dishonest actions caused indirectly was something of a good thing in the end for me; something that I've basically run with for a long time. He shed light on games that few had heard of and ran with the facade that he was making remixes for those games. However, I chose to actually make the remixes I posted, and not plagiarize like Void did when he claimed other peoples' work as his own. Everyone and their grandmother knows Chrono Trigger, Final Fantasy, Sonic, Mario, Mega Man, Zelda, Castlevania and their brethren; games with soundtracks that many artists have remixed in dozens of genres. But what about games like Master of Monsters, Raiden Trad, Hellfire or Thunder Force IV? They didn't get much attention back then, which seemed like a real shame considering how great their music was. In fact, when I first came OCR, those four Genesis games had nothing on the site... and three of them still don't. So, I kept my attention on less-often remixed games for the most part. Yeah, I've dipped my toes into well-known franchises like Castlevania, Chrono Cross and Mario, but I've come to really like digging father down into the world of game music and pulling out games like Darius, Arcus Odyssey and Moon Patrol to focus on. So while Void's actions were nothing to praise, it had the inadvertent affect of steering my remixing "career" in a direction that I've enjoyed.

Soooooooo.... I'm guessing we weren't next in line?

PM #3 sent to everyone.

PM #2 sent out.

That should help

I do, but only once in a while. The majority of my remixes are for the Christmas albums, but I still do one or two here and there outside of that (like for the upcoming Chrono Cross album... or the dead Streets of Rage project). this is all because I'm mostly focused on my original work now, which is more enjoyable to me. Thinking about it, the role of music making for me has basically flipped over the years. My original work was all background stuff as I kept focusing on remixes. Now, it's mostly original work with remixing being in the background.

PM sent, folks

OK, so Thursday became Saturday. I had a number of things come up and it slipped my mind. PMs going out tonight.

Alright. The list is up to date. It's been almost two months since this project was kicked off and I'll be sending everyone a PM tomorrow, so keep an eye out for that.

I believe it was Mitaro who died, yes. As for Arek the Absolute, he didn't die. He went from dying, to better.

For me, it's 40-50 minutes. I've got plenty of CDs that fall in the 30-35 minute range that I enjoy, but 40-50 minutes feels like the right amount of time for an album when played from start to finish. It's also the time range that some of my favorite albums fall into, so maybe that's why.