I'm typing this on Thursday because I am getting up at eff o'clock on Friday to pick up Amy and go the Airport so I go down - literally down, on a map - to The Descent. Which is a D&D Event celebrating the new campaign stuff! Our own book comes out next month (!!!), June 18th, but the Multiverse has continued to spin in the meantime, and down seems like a scary direction. Let's see where they end up taking us.

I disagree man.

Giving Star Wars to the Game Of Thrones people is a fascinating choice, particularly as these creators grow more spent and villainous in perception with every passing episode. I would have given it to Deadwood's David Milch, but that's just me. As Star Wars is largely about Lineage, of course, Carnivale's Daniel Knauf would also work. I mean, while we're giving it to HBO people. What we need in truth is an HBO Star Wars series, not another Trilogy. But anyway.

There's an article on Venture Beat, which is a website, about how a proposed anti-loot box bill has zero chance of passing. It wouldn't surprise me at all if it didn't pass. Like most legislation, I suspect it constitutes a kind of opportunistic fan-fiction. Also, nobody has any idea what they're fucking talking about.

My version of hell is one where my mind operates incorrectly. It's one thing to just be more "enthusiastic" than usual about adjectives; for me, any increase over my already taut baseline shoves the whole operation into space. I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about a fever-borne state of mind where every physical act is coupled with an imaginary purpose in a dreamscape based on rural Oregon, such that needing to cough correlates to placing a fencepost and actually coughing is digging a hole. It went on like this for ten sleepless hours, and I say ten hours because that is what the clock told me, for that evil place had no relationship to time. I sweated through three pillows. Even under the best circumstances, this is not the body you would choose. Being super wet does not elevate its virtues.

I have been seized by a terrible illness, unfortunately not the kind of illness that would lend vigor to my upcoming mixtape. No, it's more the kind of illness associated with disease. You might note that at the bottom of the strip, in the lower right hand corner, the name Amy is visible - this is a reference to Amy T Falcone, Strip Search alum and repper of the natural world, but also our good friend. So good a friend, in fact, that she colored the strip on stream while Gabriel stuffed his mouth with hot chicken. Thus was the credit earned.

Gabriel and his clan, the Crewhuliks, have been dining on a choice slice of free expansion content for Sea of Thieves called "Tall Tales: Shores of Gold" which sounds piratical as all get-out. It makes it seem like some pirate shit is gonna happen - and fast.

I used to love playing with action figures as a kid and I was fortunate enough to grow up during what surely must have been their golden age. In the 80’s it seemed like we got a new world full of heroes and villains every Saturday. You had the big ones like G.I. Joe, He-Man and Transformers but then there were hundreds of smaller settings like M.A.S.K., Jayce and the Wheeled Warriors, Centurions, and Visionaries. Even as a kid I recognized on some level that these were simply commercials for toys but I loved them all anyways. I was obsessed with these worlds and the very first stories I ever told were with these larger than life characters. I used to spend hours by myself setting up my G.I. Joe guys and creating my own crazy adventures.

We get up to some shit in Days Gone. A lot of the time the shit we get up to involves something called a Freaker, from the French "friquer," meaning "to freak." They are very unhappy because they dwell in the twilit sliver between life and death. There are many challenges. You can get Prime, but not Netflix. That kind of stuff. The legal substrate is porous.

I think I could sit on the couch and watch Gabriel play Days Gone for an indefinite period of time. One of the things about it is that, like Alan Wake, it reveres the kind of terrain I grew up in - the particular kind of wild place we recognize in what is called the Pacific Northwest. I saw a ridge of snowcapped peaks, peaks whose jaunty caps would soon be a phalanx of clean, cold streams and cricks, and I was like, "Yeah. Things are going to be okay" in a way that only clean water and holy nature can make so.

I own all the SteamWorld games, on a variety of platforms, and the restless whimsy of developer Image & Form is always on display. SteamWorld is not a game but an idea; the idea is that cute robots are doing all the things. The era, the characters, and the genre all hang from that, in suspended multiplicity, as though gently swinging on a mobile.

I’m looking over at the pause screen for Days Gone right now and it says “758 DAYS GONE” which I think is very cool. It’s a running tally that tracks just how long you’ve spent in the zombie infested wilderness of Oregon. I’ve been playing it as much as I can every day since it came out and even now as I write this I am hungry to pick the controller back up. Open World game fatigue is certainly a real thing, and I don’t begrudge anyone who’s tired of running all over hell's half acre ticking of boxes. Days Gone has its hooks in me though and I wanted to share a few of the things I think make it stand out.

When Gabe came up with the name of the stupid show I shouted "Fuck you!" and left the office. Laura Stringer, affectionately known as Laura From Work, said in an email that "her hand slipped" and this was the result:

The type of D&D Gabriel runs is heavily salted with tropes tugged from videogames, and that ended up being a solution when the game he was running for his family left his youngest son, No-an The Usurper, cold and disengaged. If you're talking about Dragonlance, then you're talking about Raistlin, and I think Raistlin might connect better with an older kid whose very big feelings exist in the same fraught continuum.

My computer was, in fact, one hundred percent fucked. It was one of those things where you fix one obvious problem, a problem where when you see it you're like "How did this ever work at all," and then the entire fucking computer inexplicably falls to pieces. In this case, and I mean case in both senses, the CPU was trying to catch on fire because the impeller inside the liquid cooling solution had, through exhaustion or sheer laziness, either ceased to impel or whined throughout. The new Enermax cooler our engineer put on there is like a malevolent curl of alien impact shrapnel and is impervious to heat because it was born in a star.

I was over at Glorp's house last week, he wanted to show me HDR I assume because he owns stock in a company that produces high-end panels, and I had a chance to check out Darksiders 3 on PC.