You will face a vicious argument from weeping baby-boy-men if you imply women unjustly endure an ultra-honed discrimination in all media formats. It's bad in movies and TV. It's bad in the technology industry. It's bad in the video game "industry." For every piece of advice dealt out to women to keep from avoiding harassment like "just wear a fake engagement ring," there's no mention that instead, men should stop being gutless monsters who probably hate and fear their own mothers.

How does a man engage on this topic? We need to be taught, sadly, how to write about women in games. Bayonetta is going to teach us.

Geek culture is made up. It's a brass-knuckled money-grab executed by men of excessive monetary value aiming their cash-lust at a nostalgic generation's disposable income. It's consumerism channeled through a marketable antithetical taste. It's also only as real, or fake, as "sports culture" or "yard-maintenance culture."

Geek culture needn't define you -- if it does, "the terrorists win," as the former-President, and unprosecuted war-criminal, George W. Bush, used to say.

You can buy into geek culture, the same way you can buy into any other culture, considering money is forever a demonstration of good taste. With money, comes a market, so you may wonder how to write about geek culture?

I'd rather drink poison than participate in what a balance sheet calls "geek culture." Its most visible organs are slithering, baby-mutant appendages, whacking at anyone who would get close. This is a defense-mechanism that the geek no longer needs. Geek culture needs a reboot.

How can we steer this ship?

The commute has not been eliminated from business. We still live in one place and work in another. We still wake up in the morning and move to that workplace almost at the same time as everyone else doing the same. We still step on and over one another on this twice-daily journey on overcrowded roads and quintuple-undersized public transit buses and trains.

Commuting, in the words of my grandfather, is as fun as goblins nipping at your balls.

We still must do it because of puritanical expectations within our society that demand we all be inconvenienced at the same time like our pastoral ancestors. The living-death of America's urban rail systems is a conversation for another day because today, I want to talk about the momentary solutions to commuting.

These aren't fixes for city planning. These aren't apps that hack your commute. These are just things to do when you're stacked like a sausage in a package on a truck heading for someplace you hate.

I envision a group of four friends. They are standing outside a movie theater. The year is, let's say, 1991. They discuss the opportunity to see the just-released Terminator 2: Judgment Day.

The first friend says, "I loved The Terminator. This is the sequel."

The second friends says, "It's supposed to be the most expensive movie ever made."

The third friend says, "I love Arnold Schwarzenegger. I'll see anything with him in it."

The fourth friend says, "Wait, what is this movie? I haven't seen Terminator 1. Is this the same one wheer Arnold goes to Mars?"

The first friend says, "No, it's Terminator. He's a robot from the future."

The fourth friend says, "I'm already confused. The future? Did he come back in time from The Running Man?"

The second friend says, "No, it has a way huger budget and better special effects than The Running Man."

The fourth friend says, "I won't know what's going on though."

The third friend says, "It has Arnold!"

The fourth friend says, "So does this take place after Predator 2? I didn't get why Arnold wasn't in that one. Where did he go after Predator 1?"

The first three friends cannot persuade to the fourth friend why they should see Terminator 2: Judgment Day. They do not see the movie.

You don't need to see Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice. It's bad. It's a bad movie because it's a bad interpretation of pre-existing characters.

It's so bad that people have taken it personally. I've written in the past (yesterday) concerning the lengths people will go to preserve their baby-brains, to remain psychologically childish, rather than develop into a forward-thinking headspace. Batman V Superman is an example of denial that certain comic book fans live and die by.

Fans see their favorite characters alive and human-shaped on the screen in movies like BvS. They take that as gospel. The sight is all they require. I'll stay to my orginal point that BvS was a bad movie because it's a bad interpretation of characters the audience is familar with.

Batman and Superman.

I'm not going to dissect just BvS here though. I'm going to do a spot-check on how well DC is constructing the shared universe for their movies.

When you read the words "style guide," you likely imagine a list of rules pulled from an outdated Chicago Style Manual by a fifth grade teacher desperate for an early Tuesday evening.

Someday, you won't need a style guide for your blog. It'll be as easy as tying your shoes. I'd say it'd be as easy as tying a necktime, but I think there really might be a shadowy cabal of YouTubers that are controlling the youth through lessons on how to tie a tie.

That's (only sort of) a joke.

In the simplest terms, crafting a blog style guide is an advanced energy expenditure to make your eventual blogging less of a freaking hassle. Less to remember, less time spent.

So, let's get down to it.

When the iPhone might have invented wireless, one-touch commerce in the 21st century, it also started the race to the bottom. I remember when they built the Apple App Store atop iTunes' rotting shoulders, piggybacking onto the success of selling one song for $0.99, and an episode of The Office for $3.99. I remember during that first Summer of iPhone when somebody sold an app that did nothing called "I'm Rich" for $1000 (NOTE: that might not be the actual price).

I remember when I bought the sublime endless-runner game progenitor, CANABALT, for $0.99. I remember when my friend started working at Zynga and reminded me every day to try Farmville for free. He didn't work in development, he worked in HR.

The mobile app now sits comfortably at the low price of Approximately Between Zero To Five Hundred Future-Dollars.

In the race to the bottom, we devalued digital goods. The whole farm was gambled on a whale falling from the sky, bones ripe for the picking.

Yes and no. Apps are now a platform, a storefront.

You'll have to indulge me for a moment when I state that a lot of people reveal on a regular basis that they cannot productively reconcile their annoyance with the world around them.

That's being too kind. The conversation should be narrowed: most people can't reconcile their minds with stuff that annoys them.

Nope, still too much. I'll split this atom once more. Please know that we'll get into exact definitions on just a moment, so as not to offend the sloppy-brained.

*ahem*

People are babies without the proper emotional means to keep from feeling fussy about annoying stuff.

So, we wonder how to write about stuff that annoys us...

Most are familiar with the Dan Brown novels starring the knowledgeable art history professor / symbologist (sic) / smart-dad Robert Langdon character. He's the hero of Angels & Demons, The Da Vinci Code, The Lost Symbol, and Inferno. 

His adventures carry him to European cities including Paris, Rome, Florence, Venice, and also to Cincinnati once, but we don't talk about that one, all while extolling knowledge on jerks who haven't opened a history book in a while.

People who just don't really think too much, alright?

Like James Bond, except American, and tweed, and definitely not a sexist jerk, Langdon always gets a new Gal-Friday in every story. One time, the female lead was a yoga master. Another time, the female lead might've been the descendant of Jesus (Christ).

In Book 4 of Langdon's adventures, Inferno, he finds himself with a gunshot wound to the head and retrograde amnesia in a hospital in Florence, Italy.

Despite this, he manages to overcome his concussion-like symptoms and be smarter than every woman he meets. He even manages to teach the sheeeeeple a little something as they run from deadly, who the heck cares?

He mansplains his way across Europe. Here's every instance of it, along with a few other male characters following his example:

I hate advertising. My dad sold ad space in bicycle and skiing magazines. Technically, that's sales. He was selling companies real estate for them to hawk their reductive ideas of their products.

I don't hate my dad. I fact, I admire him. His work made me familiar with advertising at a young age. People, or companies, have a product that they want people to purchase. That product requires recognition. Ideally, you'd want a certain person to recognize that product, considering that certain person would be more inclined to purchase the product, rather than the billions of other humans on the planet.

Recognition is a fantastic sales tool. Recognition is the best salesperson imaginable.

It hasn't happened yet, but the salesperson is evolving. They'll be difficult to recognize alongside their contemporary form.

How is a salesperson evolving? Someday, they'll be singular individuals with good tastes on a certain topic that may just HAPPEN to work for a certain company. They'll sell solutions to a buyer's query, like a living search-engine. This is a fantasy, of course. The salesperson will always be at least somewhat compromised by their employment.

This is not the case with a good marketer.