With our Warmachine tournament well and truly over, the original tabletop group has begun to clamor for a return to Pursuit of Destiny - the D&D campaign that, for many of them, marks their first true investment in a character. As my role lies largely on the Narrative and Performance axis, I'm ready to start carving this fucking bird.

I used to suggest books to Gabriel purely in order to Civilize him. I would select a book as though I were selecting a whip and then I would beat the shit out of him with my whip-book. We're far more aligned now, and so suggestions can more easily flow in either direction. His taste level has improved considerably, no doubt a function of my tutelage and proximity, while my own taste level has been seared irreparably by his gutter filth. The happy medium, from where I am sitting, is a literary slaughterhouse.

we had some great panels this year at PAX East. I always enjoy our Q&A’s because they are such a rush. Going on stage in front of four thousand people with no idea what you’re going to talk about for the next hour is fucking wild. If you could see me backstage before the curtain opens you’d see me jumping up and down with nervous excitement. Our final Q&A of the show on Sunday was truly special. If you’d like to see me cry on stage you can watch it right here:

Even if it is your job to like games, it is entirely possible to miss them because as a result of time's specific and intractable properties. For example, and there's a nontrivial shame factor involved in this announcement, I just started playing Dungeon Raid. It's almost a year old. It looks like Match 3, but it's not exactly; it's like a four dimensional slot machine crossed with the Lament Configuration. Gabriel discovered it in the grip of a terrible fever; I can only imagine how its themes of subterranean terror must be enhanced.

I was talking to Keek and Mike about a dude I'd met at PAX in the tabletop room, while he was painting some terrain he'd brought. I recognized it (and him, actually) from Kickstarter immediately, and I wished him success. I was telling them about it under the presumption that the Kickstarter was already over, because I'd seen it a long time ago. It's not over, it turns out - there's about eighteen hours left on it, which means you can get some pretty amazing buys on a bunch of really sharp accessories were you so inclined.

I'm not on excellent terms with my body, but if I stay moderately clean and flood my sinus cavity with jets of warm saline it is generally able to withstand illness. Not so for my collaborator, whose earthly form is now being converted entirely into mucus.

Being old is weird, and I don't like it necessarily, but I'd still take it over being young. Both axis are laden with intractable bullshit, but in the latter half of your life people can at least recognize your fundamental humanity.

Well we’ve put another incredible PAX to bed. I’ve been asked to comment on a few of the stories that came out of the show this year. It seems that after three days of games, music and community what people people keep asking me about is the guy who took off his pants, and boobs. I’ll go ahead and give you my take on both of those but first I want to talk about the other story that is making the rounds. That being our trolling of Paul Christoforo.

PAX dreams are incredibly weird.  The one I just emerged from proposed that Achievements existed somewhere in the actual world, and they were like edible clocks.  I can't really put that one together, but it's alright; this is that organ's job, to contextualize life in a mythic way.  If previous shows are any indication, this process is just beginning.

It's true;  Gabriel has returned to the fold.  He actively prefers almost everything about the Windows Phone he had - it has the cohesion he feels is missing from Android, and the "active tiles" or whatever those things are on the start screen can reveal data without having to drill down every time, which the iPhone's app-centric user experience demands.  

The Precipice is so moist you guys it's crazy! It's treacherous for real - and there's a precipitous drop.

Shit is complex at Chez Gabriel, and in a rare twist, it isn't the direct result of his own malformed behavior. Star Wars Kinect, which was generally expected to be a bucket of mouth-temperature filth and may even be that, has its claws deep into his son.

Star Wars Kinect is a real shitfest. Unless you happen to be a seven year old.

Is it safe to come out? Have people stopped fucking around with everybody? Alright. Let's go.

I haven't been able to keep up with PATV because I've been writing... something, and when I have to write and write I sort of fall off the planet. Maybe we can both catch up.

We've had such terrible experiences in one way or another with so many iterations of EA's Tiger Woods franchise that they've probably scared me off permanently. I was one of the annual purchasers who felt the shock of their next-gen transition, the one that decimated the course roster, but choked it down; it wasn't until it became clear that their mechanism for multiplayer matching and gameplay simply didn't work that I gave up.