If a series switches genres, I mean… you get a feeling on your neck. It's not a good feeling. It's like if there's a show you enjoy and they're in high school or whatever and then they're in college or some shit. A cold wind blows. It's a dangerous time.

A fun game I like to play is to contextualize a work in such a way as to meaningfully alter the content without touching a stitch of it. It's like remixing except all you do is find a viewing angle that alchemizes its perceived payload. For example:

Sometimes you come back from a PAX and it seems like you got away clean but then a couple days later every free channel in your body runs with rivulets of hot mucus. In such times, the humble book may provide succor. And maybe it could also have provided succor back in 2004 or whatever but here we are. The most important thing is that someone is discovering Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrel for the first time. This supersedes all other considerations, even murder, and is cause for celebration.

It seemed like there was a gift opportunity there, a strikingly rare window, but no because of who he is as a person.

I really did think my F: drive would last forever, in profound contradiction to… fact, I guess? And truth? And everything we know about everything. I had to kick a bunch of shit off there - had to pause Remnant, but I can come back anytime. Had to accept that maybe some betas for games whose release versions I don't even play probably don't need to be there. I didn't actually have Asheron's Call 2 on there, or Asheron's Call for that matter. I didn't actually see the C-Beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser Gate. At some level they'll always be installed in my heart, though, a medium with the effortless capacity to contain both.

A couple weeks ago, very late at night, I started getting texts from Greef that followed a pattern like this:

Grabbing demos at PAX Unplugged - that is to say, learning complicated new things - is pretty much all I wanna do. Some of the trendlines in the industry are really going my way, and there's a lot of evidence for that. I meant to discuss it with Eric Lang when we were opening the show, but we didn't get around to it because he's too interesting. I'd been stressing out about that Keynote/Storytime for a couple weeks, which is kind of my thing, so I wanted to meet up with him before the show real quick to see if we'd be able to fill a stage together and then we talked for almost two hours with no pauses. So, it seemed like we were gonna be okay. But then I freaked out again and filled my phone with questions just in case there was ever a pause for more than two seconds. Then, when we did the talk, we didn't discuss any of the things we talked about the previous night or any of the shit I wrote in my phone. I worried and worried about it, and it was fine. Better than fine! But I forgot to fuckin' ask him about the boardgame he made with Rob "Legacy" Daviau called Cthulhu: Death May Die. I guess I have his mail.

We've been trying to figure out what kind of psychic whorl has seized Respawn Entertainment such that the work of their hands - the Titanfall series - hasn't found success in accordance with its manifest quality. We posit a possible theory in this, today's incomparable strip.

Gabe's kids got him back into Titanfall 2. I think they might already have moved on from it, but he and Kara are still in there. They added a whole Wave Based Horde Mode thing, there's a new Titan, it's wild. But there's a stalwart community that remained in there, and they've slavered for exactly the kind of prey that Gabriel represents. Somehow engaging in perpetual battle with this brutal new pantheon hasn't scared him off yet.

Being a parent is always fraught. There's always been a profundity of horseshit associated with the practice, but you can't forget in the prosecution of these duties that being terraformed by hormones is a lot to handle too. So while they're being remade at the molecular level and you're trying to explain to your son on the spectrum that, uh, yeah, basically all people lie fucking 24/7, you have to seek out, identify, and protect the moments where you can see each other clearly. And also you have to lie 24/7.

We'll see what today's episode of The Mandalorian brings us, I guess, but the first three episodes are essentially a trilogy of television length shows that constitute - in aggregate - the best Star Wars movie Disney has produced. Solo and Rogue One evoke certain genres - heist and war, respectively - nestled in yards upon yards of comforting, nostalgic fleece. The Mandalorian just feels like Star Wars, because Star Wars was already a Western. They resonate at the same frequency.

I actually tried to get into Transformers Trading Card Game, but I couldn't, physically couldn't, because it had been consumed entire by a flock of ravenous robot worshippers. I never had a chance to do anything with Devastator or whatever. I think they have Devastator. I don't know. I've never played it. Remember? Look back up at the top of this paragraph.

Here is a comic strip about Disguised Toast getting on that Zuck Truck for Fuck You Bucks.

It's here! And I don't want to play favorites or anything but holy shit. I gotta have some of these.

There's so much that's surprising about the Half-Life: Alyx announcement. I mean, if you didn't already know about it. I think a lot of people knew about it. In fact, I think a lot of people knew about it and were telling other people about it, which was why they had to announce it. Otherwise, it's weird timing.

I'm shocked as hell that Gabriel is finally playing The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt, which you (as an intellectual) will readily recall is a game from 2015. It's even more surprising that it's been the release on the Switch that finally did it, but it doesn't matter to me how he came by it too much. The main thing is that he has an opportunity to learn what we learned, and now irrevocably know: that ghosts, statistically speaking, are real pieces of shit.