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seralica · 7 months ago

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[ID: tags by logictxt reading "#if i wone day find out he didnt even make earthworm jim ost it'll be so fucking funny #the one ost he Surely Definitely Did Make in my mind #but at this point its hard to believe the man" ]

Hey uh so...

It doesn't seem like he made Earthworm Jim either? Or at least not as much as he claims.

Because I am obsessive I remember reading this comment from ages ago, from a musician named Tony Bernetich claiming he did some EWJ1 and most of EWJ2:

"Currently I am working in the pit orchestra for the musical Oklahoma and the French horn player turned me on to this video when she found out I did the music for Earthworm Jim one and two. Yes, you read right….I did two levels on Earthworm one and all but two on Earthworm Jim two. In the 80’s I had just earned my masters in music comp plus a teaching credential from UCI while my wife was a tax auditor for the state of California. She always had my “reel” with her and while she was auditing Virgin Games in Irvine where Tommy worked, she hunted him down and gave him my reel. At that time Tommy was trying to create a banjo tune for Shiny Entertainment, the company that created Earthworm Jim, and I was playing piano at a 900 seat western themed dinner theater in Buena Park. At this theater I worked with a well known five-string banjoist and I asked him to “tab” some banjo rolls so I can add a bluegrass banjo tune for my reel….the same reel that my wife handed to Tommy Tallarico. Musically, Tommy is possibly one step above a garage band musician and was absolutely clueless when it came to banjo. Anyway, he paid me a couple of hundred bucks for the banjo file and tasked me with more music work for Earthworm Jim two. I also did some work on Madden Football and a Spot game for him. On Earthworm two most of the music was mine and years later I discovered that the other composer who created the music for level one was Cristophe Beck who composed music for TV and movies. In California, if you do music for a living, you have to wear a lot of hats or you wind up eating your kids, so in addition to composing, I was teaching, grading compositions for MTAC and performing and totally forgot about Tallarico. About twenty years ago my wife found a website with Tallarico explaining how he created the banjo file. She read it to me and I cracked up….the guy was lying through his teeth. So, judging from this video, he obviously has a problem with the truth….and I’m one of the hard working folk whose work he took credit for during his career."

And when looking for it I also found this comment, which discusses how Tallarico wasn't even credited on EWJ1, Mark Miller was:

"After all this, I'm not entirely convinced Tommy actually did the music for Earthworm Jim. He's not actually in the credits, some guy named Mark Miller of Neuromantic Productions was. Perhaps I'm wrong, but I cannot find any connection between Mark and Tommy. I recall somewhere (I forget where) that Tommy acknowledges that his name isn't in the credits, and he said this was for "legal reasons" (he provided no further details). One one hand, EWJ was created by a relatively small team, and it seems difficult to believe that Tommy (especially before he became a star) would be able to take credit for this and no one would say anything. And he is credited on Earthworm Jim 2. On the other hand, the Genesis version of EWJ2 credits "Tommy Tallarico Studios" for the music. The Genesis version was created first, and the rest of the ports credit Tommy exclusively. Kind of makes me wonder if the compositions were handled mostly by someone else, and he just handled the conversion for the ports. It's pure speculation, but given Tommy's credibility, it makes me wonder."

And then this reddit post, when I searched up Tony Bernetich:

"...The one composer listed in the entire game is Mark Miller, who did a lot of games on the Genesis and SNES at the time (among other consoles later), and there are two songs apparently done by Tony Bernetich. Going by that, that would mean Mark Miller composed the rest. The one thing that gets me, is that Mark Miller has a very distinct style he does on the Genesis. Only about two or three songs have that sound, Snot a Problem, Rodeo Jim and the song where Jim Loses. Those are the only songs that sound like he might have done them, or at least handled the audio. But there are several songs in the game that have a totally different sound, and those are New Junk City, Down The Tubes/Level 5, For Pete's Sake, and the Buttville songs. I suppose it's possible Mark wrote those, but did someone else handle the sound driver for those, because those sound nothing like how Miller's Genesis music usually sounds. The SNES version, on the other hand, sounds perfectly like Mark Miller probably did the entire soundtrack...."

So... yeah. It's not academic level fact checking, but I'd err on the side of "he probably didn't compose Earthworm Jim"

I know the whole Hbomberguy Tommy Tallarico thing is extremely old news by now but I think I just had a firsthand Tallarico Experience TM.

A couple days ago I watched the vid together with my husband who hadn't watched it yet, and last night were talking about it and laughing about the whole "first american to ever work on sonic" thing and I was like. "What even were the tracks he composed for Sonic? Lemme look them up"

So we looked up which tracks he composed for Sonic and the Black Knight and ended up accidentally finding out that:

None of the three tracks he contributed to the Sonic and the Black Knight soundtrack were actually original compositions, they were remixes (with VERY slight changes, we checked) of songs originally featured in Black Dawn and Adrenix, two games Tommy Tallarico Studios made music for back in the 90's.

None of those original tracks from those games were even composed by him, they were composed by Todd Dennis, a former Tommy Tallarico Studios employee.

We weren't even trying to expose him or dig deeper into anything, we were just trying to look up what was the music he made for Sonic and ended up finding out that the work that, according to him, warrants him the title of "first american to ever work on sonic" wasn't even like. Making any original music but literally just polishing up some decade-old tracks that he happened to own the rights to because one of his former employees composed them for two completely different games.

Like this guy's entire persona and career are built on a web of lies so delicate and multilayered that just by being curious about his work on Sonic we accidentally found out about two additional layers of mistruth we weren't even previously aware of. Truly the gift that keeps on giving.

#i have watched this video and read the comments too many times #not sure about aladdin I guess #but yeah this man seems to be a talented manager who has composed some things but nowhere near as much as he says

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aries-rising-on-an-aquarius-tide · 4 years ago

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Evocations: XVI

The Chief District Attorney drafts an over-eager redhead with too much to prove, to replace Alexandra within just a few weeks. Liv allows the natural rhythm of the work to sweep her along, pouring herself into it in order to keep the loneliness and the mourning at bay.

Darcie and Alexander check in regularly enough, even after the sale of the apartment is settled, two months after being on the market. She is genuinely touched that they call, but dreads it, too - being forced to sit in her sadness for that brief period every few weeks.

Elliot checks in too, in his own way. For the first couple months he pretends that he is being subtle about it: asking her if she's eaten, glancing at her fridge every time he stops by her apartment, making sure she is the first to nap in the cribs if they have a lull. As Christmas approached, he suggested drinks or pizza outside of work more often. He made it clear Olivia was welcome to celebrate Christmas with his family.

But Liv didn't want company. She didn't want Christmas. All she wanted was her life back, and if she couldn't have that, she wanted to work. So, she put her head down and plodded forward.

It was late in January when the phone call came. Olivia grabbed the phone on the first ring, assuming it was a case about to break. On the other end of the line, though, was Alexander's voice. Immediately, a chill snaked down Liv's spine. The Cabots never called her at work.

"Olivia," Alex's father said quietly, and the knot of tears in his throat was audible, "we lost Darcie."

Liv went stiff in her wheeled chair, fixing her eyes on a pile of paperwork in front of her. She listened to Alexander's soft voice telling her the basic details, all the while thinking of how he believed he had lost his entire family, when Alex was somewhere still alive.

She assures him she will call when she arranges her flight, and ends the call, walking straight into Cragen's office where she tells him she needs time off.

Alex has never been so sick of a winter as she is of that first Winter in Wisconsin. She has three layers to strip out of as she comes through the door at the end of the day, and Sky impatiently dances circles as she does so, waiting for her dinner.

Her job now is at an insurance firm. Not selling it, thank God, mostly just auditing and reviewing applications. Like everything else she has undertaken, the job is easy and she excels. Her skills are painfully underused in the position, and she is already exhausted with it by January.

Tina, her 'sister,' continues to see her regularly. Behind closed doors, they are acquaintances at best; any hope of having a close friend in the woman had sailed very early-on. Alex is, in fact, surrounded by acquaintances - in co-workers, at the stores she frequents, in her neighborhood. But nobody gets close.

Close isn't an option any more. Every time she forgets to respond for a beat to 'Emily,' every time she sees someone new, Alex is chilled through, wondering if she has been found out. She worries about people asking the wrong questions, about strangers who look at her a moment too long.

Is this the day? she has asked herself a thousand times, Is today the day I die?

In the bathroom mirror, she runs her fingers over the scar from her bullet wound, and tries to convince her reflection that she is Emily now. She practices it like daily affirmations, trying to accept her isolation, her loneliness, her confusion.

Once Sky is fed, Alex reheats some chicken soup for herself (she has refused to cook anything but hot meals since the first snowfall), and takes it to the spot where she has set up her desk and PC. She has gotten into the habit of keeping up with the news in New York, and in Dallas where her parents are; in her email are dozens of newspaper subscriptions she uses to keep on top of SVU cases and other tidbits.

A foot rubs Sky absently under the desk as Alex eats her soup and reads. Outside the doors to her back patio, the snow swirls and flutters with no end in sight to the frozen dairyland's stasis. This is when she sees it.

It rolls up on the screen of her digital copy of The Dallas Morning News:

Beloved Wife of Prominent Local Attorney Passes, Community Mourns

Below it, she reads her parents' names . . . her own name, words that she knows are a part of her real life, but at first she can't make them feel real. Again and again, she reads the blurb about the death of her mother, and the recent death of herself.

My mother is dead.

Mom has died.

Alex repeats the fact, continues to paraphrase it, until she rises from the computer and walks back to the kitchen with her half-eaten soup. Laying the bowl in the sink, she stares blankly into the receptacle until she feels the burn of her fingernails cutting into her palm.

When she looks up from her bleeding hands, her eyes land on the telephone, and she briefly considers calling Jack Hammond and demanding that he give her back her old life. To attend her mother's funeral, to be held by Olivia, to feel something again.

In the end, Alex takes Sky to bed under a thick pile of blankets, and her sleep is filled with nightmares where snow falls in Dallas, and she wanders the streets, screaming for her mother, who cannot hear her call.

Olivia has never been to Texas, and cannot think of a worse reason for her first trip there as she touches down in Dallas and embraces Alexander Cabot, who seems diminished without the two blondes who have always bookended him.

She moves into mothering mode quickly, encouraging Al to eat and sleep. She keeps a wary eye on his drinking, and makes sure that he is working through any paperwork Darcie left behind. As parents most often do, the Cabots had originally arranged to leave everything to Alexandra. After the cartel case, some reshuffling had occured, and Olivia is touched and conflicted when she finds out that some of it was shuffled to her.

When he falls into a fitful sleep the night before the funeral, Olivia slips silently, curiously into Alex's teenage bedroom. It is mostly intact: the walls showcase 80s movie posters alongside Feminist icons and clippings of political milestones of the decade.

Liv breathes deep of the ghost of her lover in the space, fingers reverently gliding over academic awards and dusty photos where Alex's smile beams out at her. On the bookshelf, she reads titles one after the other - Rubyfruit Jungle nestled right up next to Little Women . . . Jane Rule, Roald Dahl, Beckett, a gathering of strange bedfellows that brings a wisp of a grin to Olivia's face.

Finally she sits down on the narrow, creaking bed and picks up the tattered stuffed penguin at the pillow. The sigh that pitches from her is swollen with melancholy.

"His name is Shivers," Al tells her from the doorway, and Liv jumps at the sound. He fills the doorframe with his height and heavy sense of his grief.

"Of course it is," Liv sniffs with amusement, giving the flightless bird another once-over.

"You should have him," Alexander furthers.

The amount of restraint that Olivia has to employ to keep from confessing that the man's daughter is still alive is utterly monumental in that moment. She binds it, snuffs it, locks it away again and again. No confession comes, just a smile for Alex's father, and a nod.

The morning following the funeral, Liv flies out of Dallas with Shivers in her suitcase, leaving behind her a dozen yellow roses on Darcie's grave.

In mid-April in Wittenberg, much to Alexandra's dismay, the ground remains frozen. Most of the snow slowly melts, however every now and then, a light dusting of fresh flakes comes down in the morning or overnight, then melts with the climb of the sun.

She has lost weight through the winter months, and the sharp planes of her face in the mirror are painful to acknowledge. No proper mourning of her mother had come to pass; Alex had simply filed the knowledge away as a part of the life she lost, and continued the monotonous plod forward in the strange play she now acted in each day.

Before April gave way to the slightly warmer thaw of May, the insurance firm where she was working threw a social mixer - to break up the long change of seasons, they explained. Tina, who was concerned about Alex's weight loss and isolation, had pushed hard for her to attend, even if it was just to get out of the house for something other than work and errands.

So, on the evening of the mixer, Alexandra found herself at a local drink lounge called Doubles, quietly sipping a Shirley Temple. Her co workers were made up mostly of the usual office-job types: clad in off-the-rack suits, soft-spoken and nerdy, often shy, and unfortunately not very interesting. Alex stayed hugged to the bar, drinking and trying to decide how long she had to stay in order for her escape to be considered polite rather than asocial.

"Mind if I join you?"

The man that belonged to the voice was from the Claims Adjustment department of the firm. Alex had seen him around now and then, perhaps even passed polite words with him - but she couldn't recall his name. She waved her hand in the direction of the stool next to her in reply, and he settled in.

"You don't remember me, do you?" he chuckled, watching for the bar tender to free up so he could order a drink.

"I'm not so great with names," Alex told him apologetically.

"Well, I remember your name - Emily." He had a great smile, and he flashed it at her. "Mine is Greg."

"Thanks for reminding me."

He called to the bartender for a rum and coke, then checked if she wanted a refill, which she declined. "Where were you before Wittenberg?" he asked.

"Tulsa, Oklahoma," Alex told him, pulling from the pool of lies and backstory that she had been taught in October.

"Ah," his green eyes twinkled with amusement, "That explains it then."

"Explains what?"

"Why you seem to disdain Wisconsin winter so much."

"I didn't realize it was so obvious," Alex smirked.

He laughed, wrapping both hands around his highball glass. "Were you in insurance there?"

"No. No, this has been a big change for me," she admitted softly.

"Do you miss it?"

Alex startled. "Oklahoma?"

"Whatever it is you left behind."

The blonde paused, her blue eyes locked on the liquor in her glass. "Yes," she confessed, "I do."

They stayed at the bar, drinking slowly, while Greg asked her innocuous questions that were neither boring nor bothersome. Alexandra could feel herself relaxing, loosing herself from the lonely exile she had been prescribed. Before the evening was over, she even caught herself smiling at him, wanting to laugh at his simple jokes.

When the event began to empty out, she declined his offer for a ride home, and was genuinely surprised when he accepted it without pushing back. Neither did he ask her for her number, or to see him again. Alex wondered on her taxi ride home if perhaps she had misinterpreted a man's intentions for the first time since adolescence.

Her worry was quashed, however, when Greg reappeared at the office beginning of the week, and asked her if she would like to have lunch together. She agreed, and it slowly became a regular thing.

By the time he finally asked her on what could be considered an actual date, Alexandra was anxious at the idea of going back to being alone.

She considered the long winter, in which she hadn't put up a tree or celebrated the holidays. Considered the death of her mother, and the nightmares that had followed, leaving her breathless and shaking. Alex even considered the ring, somewhere back in New York, that might never find its way onto the finger of the love she had been forced to abandon.

Facing down the idea of that isolation for the rest of her life was too much to bear.

Alex said yes.

#law and order svu #svu #olivia benson #alexandra cabot #alex cabot #olivia x alex #cabenson #evocations #hearteyes4mariska #my writing #fanfiction #my fanfic

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