I happened to watch an episode of Ally McBeal on TV yesterday. Ally McBeal is a series I really enjoy watching, largely because of the unusual and comical characters in the show (odd, but not weird; I would say distinctly exaggerated). And while sprinkling some very odd and unusual plots and events in it, I think the show still possesses a very pervasively human and sensitive emotional touch to it, which appeals to me. It revolves mainly around Ally McBeal herself; single lawyer in her mid-30s who works together with a highly distinctive group of associates, and who still hasn’t found Mr Right, and doubting that she ever will. I guess part of the reason I like the show is because somehow I empathize with her – sometimes, maybe even identifying with her – although I’m of course looking for Ms Right. I think we both, Ally and I, have our own romanticized views upon it which never really seem to come true.

Anyway, in this particular episode, Ally’s hat blew off in the wind, and it landed just outside a particular house. The house was a little old and torn, but she liked it so much that she bought it.

Ally’s therapist, of course, thought it was a projection of herself, buying and restoring a house just as she herself tried to fix and restore her own life. Her coworkers thought she was nutty and in way over her head. Everyone seemed to suggest that Ally had lost her mind .. more than usually, that is, and Ally herself didn’t quite know whether to believe in them or not. But she liked owning a place. And what she dreamed of was to have a coat-hanger; because if she had one, she could hang her coat on it, and then she could feel like she was home.

To make a long story short, her coworkers all pitched in, painted the entire house indoors while she was away; and when she came home to her unfinished, unrestored house, everything was done. And in one room stood a coat-hanger, just all by itself. And then there followed this scene where Ally hung her coat on her coat-hanger, and just stood there looking at what she had bought, and what her friends had done for her; that old, funny, quaint little house (with bad plumbing), and it looked so beautiful. She sat down on the empty floor, in her new house, and you could see that she was so much in love.

I never saw anyone before fall so much in love with a house. For the next hour or so, I walked around and just thought happy thoughts. I felt that everything you buy, you should be in love with. In this case, a house that is so perfect for you that you love spending every moment in it – despite its little quirks and nuisances. And if everything you get is like that… than maybe one day you’ll walk around and everything you possess is just full of love, love, love.

Well, I don’t know. I guess everything can’t be perfect. But in the end, Ally didn’t buy her house because of complex psycho-dynamic processes; she just fell in love with it. More things in life should be like that.

So my recent hobby has been the computer game America’s Army, if you’ve ever heard of it. It’s a multiplayer game available free from the official site, and which is developed by the United States Army as a sort of publicity stunt. It’s very good, though.

My favorite mission is FLS Assault: A squad of the 82nd Airborne jumps over an airfield at night, and assaults a team of enemies dug in. The thing is, the assault squad carries only M-16’s and smoke grenades, while the enemies have light machine guns and explosive grenades. Which makes for an interesting fight: A straight-on assault is suicide, and therefore you have to use marksmen crawling forward in the terrain, and assault teams enveloping both south and north. With proper coordination and good team members, it’s absolutely doable; with just nit-picking at skilled enemies, you lose every time.

Which is interesting. My favorite is to crawl along, get into position and start picking off enemies from the front through single M-16 shots. There are only six enemies, and getting one or two per round is customary. You start getting nervous, though, when there’s a huge firefight erupting over there, grenades explode and you hear your own guys screaming for medics.

One such time I was in the middle, scanning for enemies. Most action had died down, and there was about 1:30 left on the clock before we had to take the objective or lose the round. I look at the player status screen, it shows me and another guy is still alive. I report my position, waiting for something to happen. Nothing.

The seconds tick away. I look at the player screen again, and suddenly I’m the only one left alive. 00:30 on the clock. Gulp!

So I decide I have to do something. The entire team is now looking over my shoulder to see what I’m doing (they can watch the remaining players after they die) and I can imagine their comments: “Run! Run!” (which I can’t see since I’m still in the game).

So I stand up and rush forward to the defensive trench, M-16 in hand, and just as I draw near I see an enemy soldier, crouching down in the trench and scanning to my left. I’m in the open and scared as hell since I’m running against machine guns over an open field, but the second I saw him I fired about 10 rounds at him and took him out.

And thus we won the round. With 00:08 seconds left on the clock.

Everybody on my team was shouting “yeah!”, “wonderful!”, “good job!”; and the comments from defense were “aaah!” and “8 secs… lol!”. I felt great.

That’s why I love FLS assault. It takes planning, teamwork, skill, and marksmanship. But when everything comes down to you and the clock, there’s always that “no guts, no glory”, and you rush ahead and win the game. Or, you rush ahead and get pounded by two machine guns. But hey, you would have lost anyway. :)