1up is running an anti-drug campaign based on the idea that getting high will affect your usefulness in raids.

You might have heard that we were recently honored by the state of Washington. We do not absorb accolades especially well, being surrounded by a nearly impermeable membrane of self-doubt and residual teen vengeance. Even so, the grandeur of the setting elevated things to almost New Hope, medal ceremony levels. The addition of the following line:

So i attempted to dedicate last night to Killzone's multiplayer. I'd jumped in a few times before and really enjoyed it. I had planned to spend last night trying to unlock some new equipment. The game had other plans though. Last night I experienced two hard crashes, each one eradicating all my work in that particular match. The first one I decided to just accept and roll with but the second one was too much. After nearly thirty minutes of play the game locked up and after restarting I saw that none of my points from that match had been calculated. That's a deal breaker for me. I'm a big fan of persistence. I like the idea that the time I invest in a game is earning me new skills and abilities. The problem is that if you're going to make my time with the game valuable, you can't ever fucking steal it from me. If WOW crashed and I lost a night's worth of XP I'd never play it again. Tycho told me that this happened to him in Asheron's Call and it was the reason he quit. So I'm done with Killzone until I hear about a patch of some kind. It's not like I'm hurting for other games to play.  

I don't play in Gabriel's campaign, and I don't run it, but still I am present. I am there in the eager, thirsting roots of the gravetree, in every primal ululation of some forgotten race. Whenever he runs something by me, I am quick to suggest that it could be substantially more brutal. His group can scarcely believe the stories I tell them about earlier versions of the game, of sundered stats and experience loss and THAC0, when players could win and still lose.

This has gotten out of hand.

We've got a couple conventions coming up here pretty soon. Tycho and I will be at Emerald city as well as Sakuracon, both of which are in April. I'm working on an exclusive poster that I'm hoping the Sakuracon crowd will appreciate.

Dollhouse is not an enjoyable television program.

Episode 2 of our D&D podcast is now live on iTunes and over on the official site. Since we recorded these podcasts I've had the opportunity to not only sit in on a few different games but actually run my own game. One thing I've noticed is just how different D&D is depending on the group and the DM. From hardcore min/maxing motherfuckers, to groups where it seems like the rules get in the way of their acting. What I enjoy about the game is really the table talk. That is to say I like having my friends around the table,cracking jokes and telling stories. My feeling is that the core D&D rules are there for you to use as much or as little as you like. In my game I try really hard to strike a balance between what the rules dictate and what's going to be the most fun. 

We exhibit a curious psychology in our writing: whenever we create a character for the sole purpose of reviling it, eventually we come to see things their way. We have a kind of sympathy for these shuffling creatures, even though their entire purpose is to act as pinatas in some aggressive adolescent fantasy. We want to make their imaginary lives better. The Chuck/Charles dichotomy is a good example, but even the villain Franzibald gets his due: his pathetic works take on a kind of inverse grandeur, and exploring their cursed plain produces a sensation which is not unlike pleasure.

I haven't seen it mentioned anywhere, but checking the game's update log purely for shits and giggles, I saw this:

With Gabriel home sick on Friday, we each purchased Noby Noby Boy independently with an eye toward creating a strip based on it. We agreed to play it for an hour apiece, and then convene our fraternal order to perform the Ritual of Writing.

Five years ago, it was our goal to create a convention that recognized gaming as a cultural event.  We hoped that people would respond to it, but we could never have anticipated the depth of that hunger.  There is a lot of hunger.  

A quick call to Electronics Boutique on Wednesday established a scenario in-line with my own expectations: they did not have the game I wanted, even though it's Street Fighter IV, a product which they could reasonably expect to sell. I half expected to be offered a used one, even on launch day. It's not impossible.

I was really happy to hear so many people come up to the booth at New York and say they enjoyed the D&D podcasts we did. That was my first time ever playing Dungeons and Dragons and I had a great time. People have asked me why I never played before that and I guess I just had some misconceptions about what D&D was. The more I talk to Tycho about what previous editions of the game were like, the more I'm glad I came in when I did. It sounds like a lot of the stuff that might have turned me off from the game was stripped out for 4th edition. Obviously I'm not an expert but my impression after talking with Tycho is that they've made a significantly more accessible game. I think it was the new 4th edition rules combined with where I was in my tabletop journey that made D&D really appeal to me. The tabletop journey I mentioned is actually sort of interesting. I've been thinking about why I was sort of primed for D&D and if you trace it back through the news posts you can see that it starts with Pokemon of all things. 

A preview build of Resident Evil 5 dropped by in the early afternoon on Monday, and before we knew precisely what had occurred, it was time to go home.

In this space, we sometimes describe my party role: social tank. A week away from our regenerative pods here in Seattle offered many opportunities for interpersonal anguish, or even inconvenience, which for Gabriel is roughly synonymous. On at least one occasion, he leveraged a clearly preternatural ability to escape detection by disappearing completely - leaving a log in his place. Does he decide what is left behind, or is the log is an inextricable result of the process?  I will see if he can leave a cheese plate instead.