Kirt posted a link to Rebecca Solnit's Men Explain Things To Me, and I thought about commenting, but then realized it was more of a frothing, cursing rant than a comment. (Fair warning!)

( ...cut for your protection... )

Maybe all my billing problems with Qwest boil down to the same problems Verizon employees have with math. Hilarious. And sad.

I should have written it down when I thought of it, because now I can't recall what I had come up with.

Too much on my mind, too much stress: everything that comes with buying a house and moving, pushing myself with the illustration contract, trying to get a handle on the IP issue, trying to maintain too many discussions with too many people, constant equipment break-downs at work (I've been here every damn night this week for three to four hours each time to fix either something new or something new on equipment I'd fixed another night), weird work hours because of personnel issues, and all the usual, normal family life and kids-with-health-problems stresses.

Now a page I was going to throw into the tweak document for ORX -- as another additional/alternative rule -- has floated into the ether because I couldn't hang on to it long enough in my mental space.

Of course, it would have been easier to write it down if someone hadn't lost my writing pen I keep with a notebook by the foot of the bed. I'm thinking one of the kids thoughtlessly grabbed it for personal use and never put it back. Grr-sigh. It will hopefully turn up while we clean to move, but that doesn't help right now.

At least I still recall the rules-bit I wanted to provide exposition on:

In the rules section, I talk about Stakes and how to proceed with narration when a player fails the roll. Such a roll doesn't necessarily indicate outright failure -- the orc may succeed at whatever they are trying to do -- but in such a case, achieving the goal becomes more complicated and dangerous or another problem crops up they need to deal with before the Scene resolves.

One of the unspoken ways the gamemaster can use the results of failed rolls is to use each failure as a guideline of whose story to follow for the moment, as well as as way to single out which orc to focus/spend resources on for the time being (rather than simply choosing at random or by fiat, as normal).

This tweak provides a number of benefits, such as a narrative structure by naturally focusing Scenes around attempts at resolving specific conflicts, and the increasing tension found in good narrative, as well as more mechanical tension over the impact of failed rolls. It also adds more structure to play itself, helping to avoid situations where the gamemaster could be accused of playing favorites by not (or seemingly not) harshing on any particular player's orc.

As an additional bit of advice for dealing with the narrative: if the conflict isn't resolved, it can be treated like a cut in visual entertainment, with the conflict resumed in media res in another Scene, whenever the action next returns to that particular set of events. Or the conflict can be ended in narration at the end of the Scene. Whichever seems most appropriate to the narrative.

There are a number of reasons I love my wife. This is one of them: Blown out of proportion.

The very first thing I thought both while and after reading that article was, "Uh-oh, look out, here comes Big Brother 'Sensitivity'. It's the new 1984." But being the guy I am and believing in regularly double-checking my perceptions, I decide to ask Jen what she thinks about this.

She gives me a look -- the "that is the goddamn dumbest thing I have ever fucking heard" look -- and says, "I'd probably laugh."

"So, you wouldn't be offended by that?"

She rolls her eyes.

"What do you think about the assertion it was rude because a woman coming through the clubhouse might find it uncomfortable?"

"That's stupid."

That, gentlemen, is exactly why I love my wife: because she's not a freakin' idiot.

( ...politics behind the cut... )

BTW, the first draft of the last entry had a few righteous "fuck"s in it, but I'm trying to cut back on the swearing and save it for REALLY important bitch-fests, like when I complain about you unmarried twenty-somethings like a good grognard.

Amusingly, the other day I did actually yell, in all seriousness "You damn kids get off my lawn before I call the cops!" at the damn kids in the neighborhood. The fact that they were trashing my kids' toys and being rude little bastards might have had something to do with that, though.

Fuckin' kids. No respect for anyone else's property. Fuckin' lazy parents more interested in drinking and TV than controlling their spawn. PARENTING LICENSES! It's not just a good idea, it should be THE LAW! Fuck!

(See?)

I've been aware for some time that the Wild Hunt Studios website isn't exactly a stunning piece of visual design (though the coding was a pain in the ass), and since your website is basically an advertisement for your company and products, it needs a facelift.

The current design was originally thrown together as a placeholder until I could come up with something a little more catchy and visually intriguing (never underestimate the ability of a design to draw visitors, who may come just to look...but note, they did indeed come).

The aggravating part is that I used to be a world-class web designer and worked in the field for years, but for whatever reason once I left the business my design skills left me. Design work has been frustration and failure over the last few years. For examples, note the differences in design between Electric Ghosts and ORX, or my websites from the 90's and my current set of sites.

Seriously, I used to receive actual fan-mail about my sites that read along the lines of, "I have to confess, I browse to your site daily just to look at it. It's beautiful!" This wasn't fan mail about the content, just the presentation.

Thus, obviously I can do it...but where did it go? The stuff I have now is tame, constrained, uninspired. So I'm soliciting feedback, suggestions, and pity (hah! This is LJ, afterall). Seriously, though. Other sites to look at, specific designs to take inspiration from, critiques of the current layout/graphics/design would all be appreciated.

Psst! You kids know yesterday was May Day, right?

What's May Day? You don't know?

Remembering the fight.

Why aren't you told that in school? And why was May Day declared Law Day and Loyalty Day?

Well, we wouldn't want workers getting uppity with ideas in their heads, would we?

Know your history!

I saw this via my friends list recently, and I thought "Awesome. Stick it to her, OSC!"

And then I started to see the responses to it, and the hi-larity which can only be found on the intarwebs ensued, because, "Oh Noes! You cannot mock or profane teh sacredn'holy Mother of Potter, the JKR herself!"

Holy Christ, people, she wrote some well-loved books, made a sick amount of money off of you doing so, and was criticized thereafter for being a hypocritical horse's bum. It is not like anyone is nailing Jesus to the cross.

But to hear Potter-fans react, you'd think so. The on-rushing tide of furious offense cometh!

JKR can do no wrong, apparently, and anyone who says otherwise is jealous, stupid, insane, or some combination of the above.

The Second Coming arrived, and pissed showers of gold down upon the heads of her adoring ones, and when someone said, "Hey, you know, this is piss!" they crucified him. Never mind that it really was piss.

Of course, you'd also wonder how most Potter-fans managed to read her work, given that responses to this come-uppance from OSC indicates the majority of them suffer from a serious deficiency in reading comprehension, to such an extent it seems unlikely they were actually able to follow the plot of the Potter books (maybe they just liked the way they smelled?). I've a feeling they wouldn't know satire if they looked it up in the dictionary.

Here's just one gem: "I've read each of the Harry Potter books more than once, and I didn't catch any similarity between Harry and Ender...I really enjoyed the Ender's Game book, but now it feels sullied after reading the diatribe."

I mean, really? You realize OSC is not actually claiming JKR stole his work, he's making a point that if you're going to sue someone you'd better make sure it isn't over a frivolous comparison. You realize that, right?

No, no, not the JKR fans.

At least not the ones who read the whole article before leaping to her defense, and nevermind the ones that claimed (faces full of shame) later that they hadn't really read the article before leaping to the emotional defense of their Lady Saviour and equally emotional attacks on OSC.

Hey, genocide in Darfur? You kids heard of it? Wizards and rich, white, petulant authors is more important than real people? Because, seriously, look at the number of posts the site was flooded with on that issue compared to any other issue you'd care to read about ever...

Of course, OSC is a stinking right-wing hack who calls himself a Democrat but praises Bush, the Iraq War, and Fox News, and thinks separate-but-equal is a good idea when it comes to them there gays ('cause we all know it worked so well with African Americans), so he's as full of shit as anyone else...well, more so being on the right.

memento_mori said it, so I did it:

Frank Castle was a chess-playing prodigy and son of billionaire parents until his gambling father mad a bad bet against him with the Mafia, and ran instead of paying up. After years of searching, the mob family he stiffed found the Castles thanks to Frank's insatiable need to play in competitive chess matches. They burned his family alive in their home.

Only Frank survived, physically crippled and nearly blinded, and spent years in recovery, learning to compensate for his physical disabilities with a mastery of his mental state and all things electronic, all the while planning his revenge.

Now, he is the Punisher: a shadowy enigma that haunts the black alleys and shadowed markets of the underworld as well as the seedy digital networks which bind society together, watching, planning, moving, forcing the corrupt and wicked to fight and destroy themselves in a grand game of pawn against pawn and machine against man, few ever suspecting how or by whom they have been set-up, manipulated and destroyed.

Checkmate.

I was going to title this post "From Seventy to Snow" and bitch about the damn weather because we had another frickin' blizzard after a week of beautiful temperatures, clear Spring skies, and no snow to be seen anywhere, but then Jen and I had the best bedtime conversation ever last night:

"I wish you were more like the men on TV?"

"Which men do you mean? Like the boxer-brief models? Or maybe the guys from the beer commercials?"

"Ew, no! You know who I mean."

"No. What men? Like...George Lopez? I don't think I can be more Mexican. Though Dave did say I look like a Mexican drug lord, but that was when my hair was longer...and I'm already pretty funny, but I can try to be funnier. Listen, 'Whu-pah!' See, I can do that."

"No, not George Lopez! Gods, men are clueless!"

"What men, then? There's all sorts of men on TV. And since we're deciding we want the other person to be more like someone else, why can't you be more like Angelina Jolie?"

"Hey now! I didn't name anyone specific!"

"I know, and look at the confusion that caused. So I am."

"So you want me to be more like Angelina Jolie? There, are my lips big enough? You want me to wake up in the middle of the night when you try to cuddle me and kick your ass all Tomb Raider-style?"

"Oh, hell-yes! What a turn-on!"

"Getting your ass kicked when you're trying to snuggle is a turn-on? Getting thrown down on the floor and pummeled?"

"You know, it's that whole pleasure-pain thing, you don't know which is which, especially because it's Angelina Jolie on-top of you. I'd be all 'Oh baby. Angelina Jolie is straddling me. I have a woody!' so the pummeling wouldn't matter."

"Fine then, I want you to be more like...the Doctor!"

"Well, I already have the hair for it."

"Not quite. It needs to be a little longer."

"It'll grow. So I have the hair, and I'm clever, intelligent, and occasionally oblivious -- "

" -- Occasionally? -- "

" -- And I travel around time and space in a small blue box."

"You don't keep a sonic device in your pocket, and -- "

" -- Pff. I work at a radio station? Hello? Sound waves? -- "

" -- Is it bigger on the inside than the outside?"

"What? The sonic device? My pocket?"

"Yeah. Do you have a pocket that is bigger on the inside than the outside?"

"The Doctor has a pocket bigger on the inside than the outside? I've never heard that."

"It's true."

"Well, you can't believe everything you see on TV."

"Wrong accent."

"Casting concerns, you know -- you get the actors where you can. Besides, there was an American Doctor."

"No there wasn't!"

"There was too! He was only in one episode or special or something. But he was American. There was an American Doctor."

"That doesn't count."

"It's canon! One of the thirteen Doctors was American."

"Hah! There are only ten Doctors."

"I told you I was a Time Lord..."

"Yeah, you're the Doctor and I'm Angelina Jolie."

"That's good. Keep a positive attitude! It's important to have goals."

Then we screwed like rabbits.

(I'm just saying that to bother Amy. HAH! You read it and now you can't UN-read it!

(But we did. HAH!))

Wow! Did anyone else watch this back in 1990? I stumbled onto it the first night while flipping through the channels and recall sitting enraptured through all four nights...except the final night where I fell asleep before the end (at 2am local time).

I desperately want to go to Bayreuth to see it live, moreso if I could see a production utilizing the original Wagnerian ideals for the set design and elements.

Forgot to mention one thing yesterday: I've put the three pieces I submitted to Artists First! into my deviantArt gallery (it's the three most recent grayscale images). Man, they look rough. I think "Fearing For Munin" is the most polished, and "Eater of Stars" needs the most extensive work to finish.

...Read More...

I know I've been quiet lately, but with good reason. The stress of house-hunting has been driving Jen and I to exhaustion. Coupled with the illustration work I'm doing for Neoplastic, I simply don't have any time or energy to write or journal.

We're currently waiting to hear back on an offer we've made, and we very much hope it is accepted though we're nervous it will be rejected because of the repairs we requested before sale (serious water damage to the kitchen, which luckily happened when our realtor was showing us the house).

This is the last home for sale in the area with the amount of space we need and in our price range that wouldn't be a money pit. (You know what that is, right? You've seen the movie? The one with Tom Hanks?) You wouldn't believe how hard it is to find a four-bedroom home.

Anyways, here's some stuff I've been meaning to post:

For those who don't hit my site regularly, which I suspect is pretty much all of you, I recently put up a page that lists my most recent del.icio.us links, it updates automatically and there are probably new and possibly interesting link-posts every week.

Also, in case you missed it, I run a collected newsfeed of some of the various blogs I read. Lots of cool science stuff, particularly astronomy and space travel, plus stuff on the brain and human thought, (liberal) politics, and the "pirate" scene. As well as the occasional bit of humor. If you aren't reading it, you're missing mind-blowing articles on building robots who naturally evolve good and evil behaviors and fascinating stuff about the biological foundations of boredom or using solar-sails for interstellar travel.

...Read More...

Friday morning, while trying to determine if I was going to be able to head to the Cities to pick up Larry, I spent fifteen minutes on the road-conditions line (the 511) trying to get the automated voice system to understand what roads and cities I was asking about. Normally, I have really good luck with voice systems, but this time my wife found it amusing. "53. No. 53. No. Fif-ty-three! No, goddamnit! Aitkin? What the..? No! Fifty-three! NO! MENU! MENU!"

That's the part she heard. This is what was going on:

( ...click here for the fun!.. )

Well, I should have been on the road to Forge Midwest an hour ago. I'm not. Why? Because the road has decided to bury itself in a screaming blizzard of snow and ice of such fury and condition that the sheriff won't let his wife drive to work.

And, just now, my wife's boss called to tell her they haven't plowed or sanded 53 yet, so don't come in. (53 is the main highway.)

I blame Jason for angering the weather gods with his demands about "Spring".

Recently, for "lulz" (defined as: shit griefers -- defined as: the individuals who used to be the smelly teenage idiots too stupid to make it through school who spent their time shouting profanity at passing cars from the corner thinking it made them look cool/funny/smarter-than-you -- think is funny), some Grade-A dumbasses flooded the forums at a help-site for epileptics and put up seizure-inducing images.

I've long thought that griefer = sociopath. And I'd say the evidence is pretty clear that connection is valid. These are folks who injure and harass -- emotionally and physically -- others for fun and personal satisfaction without a hint of conscience. They engage in the harassment of others and think it is funny and no big deal to cause pain and suffering for kicks.

This is what modern bullies in the internet age are made of. They don't go out and torture small animals anymore -- or they probably still do, but they have more options now -- now they torture other people from anonymous safety, thumbing their noses at a society that refuses to do anything about them or admit these behaviors are a problem (if not a disease).

Of course, not every time you feel bad or are injured because of what someone else did or said equals bullying, but I think willfully attempting to induce painful and terrifying -- even life-threatening -- epileptic seizures in unsuspecting people for a laugh is both unquestionably bullying and indefensible.

Lock them up or drown them for the good of the human race.

Or, as Jason suggests, bricks and baseball bats.
Then lobotomize and utilize as cheap workforce.

It's the humane solution.