Friday, December 2, 2011

Skyrim

This is - for me - the most involving game of 2011. Already, I have sunk at least 40 hours into it, and it has completely replaced Fallout New Vegas. I also have the feeling that I have barely scratched the surface.

It is a classic open-world RPG, part of the Elder Scrolls series. Skyrim, a northerly province that appears to have been blended from equal parts Scandinavia and Scotland, is beset by the return of dragons and divided by a bitter civil war. You play the big damn hero who will have to set things right.

I could look at this for hours

Skyrim is realized beautifully. While longer play will show some rough edges, the visuals pull you into this wintry realm. Frost covers the mountains, snow drifts by, and at night, the aurora borealis plays across the starry skies. For the ultimate in atmosphere, play it on a winter's night with wide open windows, clothed in a wet t-shirt or just a loincloth and a handful of bear fat.
Nearly everything else supports this northerly flair, from the design of the villages and towns, to the creatures you encounter. There are only some minor fractures, like the lizardmen and catpeople that turn up once in a while, but they were probably necessary to retain the furry segment of the customer base.

Deep history
Skyrim shares a history with Tamriel and all the older (elder?) parts of the Elder Scrolls - which I haven't played. Sorry, I had to spend my time acquiring a near-encyclopedic knowledge of Fallout's universe. At times, this made me feel like the kid who didn't pay attention in history class and now has to ask everybody about this strange "First World War" everyone is still upset about. I think that people who have played the other parts will have a very deep experience.
Also, there are tons of books lying about, and you could use them to read up on Tamriel's history, peoples, beliefs and customs, but spending time in a pc-game to read a book appears to me as a singularly twisted way to waste my time. So I (and my character) stays an uninformed oaf - luckily, everybody seems to share my hatred of the snooty high elves, so I don't stand out too much.

You are what you do
In contrast to most other RPGs, you don't get to create your character in depth. You may select a race, which may or may not support the role you want to play, the appearance of you character is heavily customizable (as is usual by now), but you don't get to put all your skill points into chess boxing and take it from there. Instead, your character gets good at the things you make him do - do a lot of sneaking and shooting guards in the throat with a bow, and your character will turn into a sniper. This means, that your preferred style of play defines your character, and if you want to deviate from that, you will have to watch your tactics carefully.

I watched my first character, whom I wanted to play as a mage out to rip Skyrim's secrets from its tombs, degenerate into just such a bowman. At level 15, I tearfully shouted "look what you have become!" and left him on an isolated savegame for a more coherent practitioner of the dark arts.

Feeling forced
I haven't finished the main plot yet, but some of the side quests appear to force you down certain roads. At one point, some goddess of decay asked me to lure a priest into a temple, where he was to be sacrificed and eaten. I returned to the priest, hoping that there would be an opportunity to warn him or at least to send him away before the trap sprung. No such luck - after you talk him into following you, the only way to get rid of him is to put him into the big disemboweling machine. So this priest is still following me, and every time I turn to him he assures me that his god's protection is absolute and everything is going to be just dandy. On the other hand, he is a quite competent spellcaster, and I have cleared out the second Nord catacomb with his support. And he doesn't seem to count as an official follower, so I still get to keep my housecarl to lug around my stuff and beat those draugr into submission which get past my fireballs...

You will find plots and adventure hooks all over the place. If you see an interesting ruin in the distance, be assured that it is not just scenery - there is an adventure to be had there, so walk up and check it out. But (at least up to now) don't expect to be able to make many choices. The dungeon design supports this: Mostly long, winding series of chambers and caves (but so very pretty, awe-inspiring caves) which lead in a loop close to the entrance, a bit like a roller coaster or a haunted house ride. You won't get lost, but on the other hand, you can't get lost. Still, it is very enticing dungeoneering.

Yes: a very involving, very deep game. If you are into this stuff, be warned that you might spend an inordinate amount of time on it. The wife might not approve.

5 of 5 of the restless dead, the draugr, the ancient Nord traitors who had truck with the dragons and were punished for it with eternal hunger, sealed in their crypts, gnawing their own shrouds - forever, in darkness. Is that a weak, wickering torch in the distance?


Monday, November 14, 2011

The most homoerotic tale ever created in any medium

At least, that's Charlie Brooker's take on Modern Warfare 3. I didn't play that game, and I would like to point out that some FPS-protagonists exist that don't look and act like overcompensating machos - Doctor Freeman from Half-Life and the mute from BioShock come to mind. But Brooker has a point and he brings it across convincingly and amusingly.

Monday, November 7, 2011

If google+ was a party...

...it would happen in a really tasteful lounge, with lots of little niches, where you can have private conversations. The lighting is a bit bright, but you feel that some effort went into this party - it's all quite HiTek, maybe even a touch futuristic. All the crap that clutters up all other party locations has been squared away - you know, the stupid family games nobody plays any more, and if there are people working for public relations or advertisers, handing out flyers and stickers, they are kept in the background - for now.

Problem is, all the cool kids are still partying over at that facebook joint, while google+ remains a geekfest.

Monday, October 17, 2011

Sharp blades, silent steps

The Gorgons are an addition to the Scorched Earth materials post: A gang with many secrets. As such, players of mine should keep away, unless they want to wallow in spoilers.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Paths of Hate

Monday, October 10, 2011

Thoughts on Rage

Of course I got Rage as soon as I could - it is a post-apocalyptic shooter (and racing game...with RPG elements, also, there are RPGs involved, and we like those). It's by id Software, and I remember Doom one to three with great fondness. Especially Doom 3, which we tore down during one epic weekend. We pulled down the blinds, stored up on snacks with enough food preservatives to mummify our bodies for centuries, and put the sucker on a large screen, making those imps about two meters tall. Good times.

So I waited for Rage with bated breath as soon as the first screenshots were out. And now I am done with it, and sad to say, it won't earn a place in the pantheon together with Bioshock, S.T.A.L.K.E.R. and Fallout. This is really a shame as the seed of greatness is surely present. So, what went wrong, when so much went right? Spoilers may occur.

Ooh, shiny
The first visual impression of the game is overwhelming - I do hope that a coffee table book with the concept art and the loading screens is in the works. One of the first levels of the game (and those are levels, even when they are labelled quests) takes place in the ruins of a large hotel occupied by the ghost clan, a occult-minded band of raiders. Their signs and graffitis are everywhere, and they really set the mood and showcase the gang as something special and distinctive. Hunting through that hotel, I thought that this was what I wanted to bring across as a gamemaster describing the more unsavory feral tribes in my campaign world. As the game progresses, you tend to look for the gangs-signs of other clans to see in whose territory you are trespassing. All figures are beautifully animated (this is especially true for your quest givers), and the AI of your opponents is astoundingly good. If you want to see what a GURPS dodge 15 looks like, just have a gander at the mutants in Dead City. They weave and duck, use any kind of obstacles for cover, jump to the ceiling to climb along pipes to get close to you, and they will get close to you... The whole world is depicted with astounding visual detail, up to the point of oversaturation.

Wasteland theme park
But after some hours of playing, I found that the levels and outdoor areas were completely illogical as settings. One of the mainstays of the post-apocalyptic genre is the change of a setting of the past into the post-apocalyptic present: A destroyed city re-settled, a hotel turned into a gang hideout, an oil tanker changed into a floating circus. This means that the internal logic and believability of a setting has to hold water on two levels - as the thing that it was (an oil tanker, a hotel) and the thing it is now (a hideout, a circus). Here, Rage's settings fail completely: Looking at the surroundings it becomes clear that they could never have worked in the past - there is, for instance, an outdoor area much abused during your car fights, which is obviously an interchange and a large collecting basin at the same time. These were not dealbreakers, as the beautiful execution of these settings drew the attention from these flaws, but I always had the feeling that this world was a jumbles even before the catastrophe - and this broke immersion for me.
Also, the world suffers from theme park syndrome - every cliche of the genre has its nice little niche where it waits for your visit. I am not against cliches per se: Used in moderation and with thought they are a powerful tool. But to stay believable, they need some grounding in the story itself - in Rage, they just exist with no backstory.

"Maybe some kind of super-soldier, " she coily said
For me, the main weakness of RAGE is the flatness of the plot itself. You are a survivor from the past, put into suspended animation to awaken after the catastrophic event (this time, it's a meteor strike) and to give humanity a second chance. From the beginning, there is talk of the so-called Authority, which hounds survivors like you. So basically, I smelled a pot-boiler from second one, and this feeling didn't abate, when nearly every other figure pronounced the word "authority" like something that ate kittens and shat court injunctions. Okay, I get it, they are evil. Then, about one third into the game, I ran across a poster in the Dead City level: The Crescent City Transit Authority, promising a better life through its sophisticated metro system. Hm, this could be a hint that the Authority is based on the remnants of the organisation responsible for public transportation. Maybe even a sentient computer, a la Paranoia. Any minute, I'll start finding subway stubs, and I won't sell them, ever.
This looked promising, but basically, I fooled myself. The Authority are basically Nazis in powered armors, and their flag design has Hitler formulating a complaint for trademark violation at this very moment. They are led by some evil general whom we never see, there is a Resistance, which counts among its numbers a Hot Chick, and you will help this Resistance to end the Authority's stranglehold...At some point you are told by the Hot Chick that the mutants have been experimented upon by the Authority, in order to make them stronger, faster, basically, to weaponize them, and, for the lack of a better word, to turn them into super... what did you say girl? I just nodded off there for a second. So, like a midget corpse stuffed into a broken refrigerator, Rage's plot is stale, stinks and is also surprisingly short.

So what? You didn't play this for the story, but for the shootin', and drivin' and the junk collectin', and the gameplay is quite good, isn't it? Although all the levels are basically long corridors, in id-Software's well-known haunted-house tradition. And it looks really great (once the issues with the graphics driver are resolved). All those different bandit tribes, the mayors of the three settlements you frequent, the quirky bartenders and mechanics, they ooze personality, don't they? And yet, the main plot is what makes you take the next mission, and it is tremendously weak, casting a pall over the whole experience. In its details, this is truly a great game. As a whole, it appears a bit shoddy.

3 of 5 hand-built Fat Mamma handcannon shells




Friday, September 16, 2011

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Shine on, you crazy diamond(s)!


via boingboing

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Yaddaheads

The Yaddaheads: They'll sell you all the drugs you need for those freakish t-shirts you found in the ruins. The next day, they'll do their damnedest to shoot you because a butterfly told them to. The batshit crazy, barking mad doctor feelgoods of the wastes, in German.

Monday, September 12, 2011

Life is good

Maria Einsiedel deluxe

Saturday, September 10, 2011

So how was your evening?

Go here. Hover your mouse over the video. Never touch a drink again.

Friday, September 9, 2011

This one took me some time...

But finally it is done! Another GURPS disadvantage, ready to roll out.

Slow (-10 points)

You take a lot of time sorting your tools, formatting your daily to-do list, and your coffee breaks tend to be as numerous as they are long. No matter, you say, that's where the real work happens. You like to think you are the slow-but-steady kind, but many people say you are just slow. In effect, you take about 25% longer for every task that takes a fixed amount of time (first aid, picking locks etc.), and you tend to take an extra hour (or week) on tasks that have no fixed duration, like scouting out a camp or writing a thesis.

Strange - another work-related disad...

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Blind


Friday, September 2, 2011

Leaky wicks

Wikileaks is done. Whatever (whoever) caused the leak has killed this platform, and now there is a kind of purgy flavor in the air. If you are one of the informers involved in "Cablegate", your career is over. But then, you shouldn't be working for State Department anyway - you are much too trusting. But don't worry: A few years behind bars will set you straight. Just ask the holy fool of this story, Bradley Manning.

Assange and Domscheid-Berg had a good (and very important) thing going, and then it all turned to shit. It is quite probable that one of them is right and the other one is wrong, or that this was just can honest mistake (something that, believe it or not, even a bona fide genius is subject to), but from the distance, this looks like a pissing contest where two men came up short.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Berbers and lasguns II

The War Nerd talks about Libya again. This time he takes the long view: Who will profit from that little mix up?

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Berbers and lasguns!

The War Nerd offers his take on the whole Libyan mess.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Add one disadvantage

A great one for all those slackers who don't want to take old-fashioned laziness!

Unreliable -10pts*

It's not that you don't want to work - but at times, you just can't be arsed. Roll against the disadvantage's activation each time you have an appointment (or a work shift), or people are counting on you to do something and you had some time to forget about the task. If the disadvantage becomes active, you "thought rehearsal was on Wednesday", misread your e-mails or just plain overslept - someone will have to remind you of your duties, and then it might be too late. You'll probably fired quite quickly from most kinds of job, unless your special qualities make up for your problematic attitude. Most common among stoners, teenagers and that shiftless parcel driver who "services" our quarter.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

There is only so much space on a USB stick

And that's why the SEC (commission regulating banks and stock markets in the US) deleted all their data about preliminary investigations into pillars of society like Deutsche Bank or SAC - instead of keeping it forever, like the authorities are wont to do with any other kind of data. Read about it in Matt Taibbi's new piece.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Vroom!


I visit 5secondfilms daily

Monday, August 8, 2011

Troy has fallen

Someone was asleep at the wheel.

-Judge Korvanova, LAW Memphis-

Debriefing MISSION TRO-003

Jhat BELLADONNA

Judge Benevol (KIA)

Dean Bishop (at HQM for debriefing)

Grissom Card (at HQM for debriefing)

Makmande (MIA)

José Guanicontez (presumed in Troy)

Luci (MIA)

The following debriefing is based on the testimonials of Dean Bishop, who served as the jhat’s driver and mechanic, and Grissom Card, a soldier, both in the service of LAW for many years. Dean Bishop’s diary served to rectify certain dates.

For a precise mission statement, please refer to MISSION TRO-003 – in summary, a request for military support reached the Tribunal on xx.xx.xxxx from Troy. Although the relationship between this city-state and LAW has been strained for a variety of reasons (see e.g. MISSION TRO-001 and HOU-007), Troy’s rich source of crude oil and its working refinery make it one of the important communities on the Vever. On the other hand, the nature of the threat and the source of the request were very vague. Thus, a small jhat was sent to Troy, not as a direct support force, but rather as an attempt to find out the nature of the threat and to gauge the LBM’s willingness to cut a deal with LAW for their protection. The choice of soldiers was not only based on the nature of this region, but also on the fearsome reputation of two of its members, Luci and Makmande – Judge Benevol wanted to be able to show off some of our finest warriors to underpin his negotiations with Troy’s famously contrary council. JosĂ© Guanicontez was added to the jhat as a designated sniper/fail-safe.

The voyage towards Troy was without incident, until the jhat – employing one lightly armored sedan and two motorcycles – was ambushed about forty clicks from Troy. The assailants were later identified as ferales known as Moonbrothers, and used a highly sophisticated ambush techniques, although most of their armaments were decidedly lotek. It was here that Judge Benevol was killed by a rifleman, and Grissom Card received a grievous wound in the left leg. Although outnumbered, the rest of the jhat was able to drive off the attackers and make their way towards Troy. There – contrary to earlier experiences – they were admitted and even asked to remain in the city as mercenaries by Glosster, one of three members of the ruling council.

The remaining members of the jhat decided to stay in Troy at least until Grissom Card’s leg was healed up, if only to learn more about the city and the ferales threatening it. According to Grissom Card and Dean Bishop, Troy was well defended, boasting a concrete wall, searchlights, and about eighty well-trained shooters, as well as a couple of heavy weapons for wall defense, but had lost all its scouts to the Moonbrothers and was suffering from a water shortage, as the main source of fresh water was removed from the city, about five clicks west. It also became clear that the request for help had not been issued by the council, but by a Merle Purple, a local trader, who voiced bitter disappointment at our response and asked the jhat to keep her involvement a secret, as her actions would have been judged defeatist by the council, leading to her exile, or worse.

After two days in Troy, the jhat had learned much about the council (this knowledge now, sadly, completely useless), but was not able to find out more about the Moonbrothers. The citizens of Troy feared a massive assault by these ferales – basically, the Moonbrothers seemed to be bent on destroying Troy completely, having started their siege about four months earlier. Apart from their tactics and preferred weapons – a steel spear, or dart, flung with the help of a throwing lever – the inhabitants knew next to nothing about their enemies, only that they had brought travel from and to Troy to a complete standstill, that they killed every scout the council had sent out, and that they seemed to mass somewhere in the vicinity of Troy.

On day three of their stay, the fit members of the jhat were asked to escort a larger expedition to Troy’s water source. About thirty members of the city-states defenders, led by one Bene van Klyng were sent out to replenish the city’s depleted cisterns with two large tankers. The Moonbrothers seemed to have anticipated such a move, and attacked the party in force. Troy’s defenders suffered heavy losses, including Bene van Klyng, who – according to Dean Bishop – seemed to have been singled out. In this ambush, Dean Bishop was also severely wounded, putting him out of action for several days. The other three members of the jhat appear to have had a devastating effect on the attackers. Regrettably, this left only Grissom Card as a witness for this debriefing, who, in my opinion, is far less observant than Dean Bishop.

While the attack on the water convoy did replenish Troy’s water reserves for the medium term, many of its defenders were now dead or wounded, and their leader had to be replaced by one Frater Lamb. According to Dean Bishop, Frater Lamb seemed to have been more cautious than his predecessor, and more approachable, although less of warrior. Ammunition for the defenders’ firearms also became a problem. Relations between the jhat and Hartheart and Dellon, the other two council members, remained cool – both Dean Bishop and Grissom Card put the blame for this straight on Hartheart, who appears to have been a singularly stubborn and inflexible ruler.

By now, it seemed obvious that the Moonbrothers had amassed an atypically large army and were showing an equally atypical strategic and tactical acumen. But there siege around the city was not total, as a group of a dozen or so Yaddaheads, under the command of one Terata (see MISSION – PTT 021), was able to slip into the city. While the Yaddaheads claimed to have been ambushed as well, the larger part of their group was unharmed. Terata, while on his way to Five Rules and Little Rock to trade medical supplies, drugs and alcohol, was persuaded by Glosster to stay on as mercenaries to bolster the city’s defenses. While there was some initial friction between the more warlike members of the jhat and the Yaddaheads, relations remained positive, even amiable during the whole stay. Makmande, JosĂ© Guanicontez and Luci traded extensively with the Yaddaheads.

About two days later – regrettably, Grissom Card was vague about this – the Moonbrothers staged a massive night assault on the city itself. The assault was preceded by a heavy explosion in Troy’s so-called Stash, the repository of refined fuels, which demolished a length of the protective wall and killed the defenders stationed there. The cause of the explosion remains unknown, although the jhat suspected sabotage: Troy seems to use slave labor in then Stash and the oil well, and a number of these slaves were missing after the attack. Right after the explosion, a large group of Moonbrothers attacked the breach, while their few riflemen shot at the searchlights and the defenders on the wall. According to Grissom Card, the martial qualities of the jhat shined again, with Luci making a fearsome appearance in the breach. The Moonbrothers seemed to retreat after sustaining heavy casualties by all defenders, and Makmande, JosĂ© Guanicontez and Luci made an on-the-spur decision to pursue the attackers, to either find the Moonbrothers’ camp or – in Grissom Card’s words - “to put the fear of god in them”. While they were able to wipe out a group of Moonbrothers via an impromptu ambush and take a prisoner, they were attacked on their way back to the city: Makmande sustained many injuries, and only staid operative due to the massive use of Aesculapin. Nonetheless, the jhat’s training and weapons prevailed once again.

At this point, things looked up for Troy: While the attack had left some more defenders dead or wounded, losses were less than expected for such an attack, and while a part of the wall was destroyed, heavy weaponry from the city’s gate was relocated to the breach. Interrogation of captive Moonbrothers also revealed the location of the ferales’ main camp, and the name of their leader. A woman named Hecate had, as the jhat found out later, united three of the regions fractious feral tribes – Dengue, Fishbone and Brownroots. Boasting “supernatural” powers, she had basically taken over the tribes from their regular chiefs and had, over the course of some years, shaped them into an army bent on destroying Troy. The captive ferales were convinced she was a goddess “coming from darkness, leaving in darkness”, that never slept and could kill with a touch. Regrettably, we have no clue, at the time being, who this individual is, and whether she is still alive and/ or operating in the region around Troy.

Regrettably, it became obvious that the night assault had been only a diversion for a much more dangerous attack on Troy. About half of the citizens fell ill with cholera in the following days, the freshly filled cisterns being the source of the epidemic. As the water was tested thoroughly after being brought from the source, someone seemed to have contaminated the cisterns during the night assault. Troy’s doctor, already working beyond endurance with the many wounded, could only help a fraction of the infected.

The death toll from cholera amongst the normal citizenry and the further weakening of the city’s defensive capabilities seems to have lead Hartheart, the only councilor to remain healthy, to a fateful decision: a massive attack on the Moonbrothers’ camp with all available men and weapons. He announced this “strike to end the Moonbrothers forever” about a week after the night assault, giving his remaining men only 12 hours to prepare. What happened next points to a deep rift between the council and various citizens of Troy – something already noticeable in Merle Purple’s behavior. Frater Lamb, very unsure of the attack’s chances in view of the Moonbrothers’ numbers, their atypical tactics and high discipline, met the jhat in secret to arrange something that amounted to mutiny. The jhat, which by now had a reputation as exceptional fighters among Troy’s inhabitants, were to be paid to make an assassination attempt on Hecate, before the city’s defenders were on their way. Frater Lamb hoped that the Moonbrothers would dissolve as an army with their leader gone, and he was willing to bet the city’s arsenal on the attempt. He made it clear to the jhat that they had all weapons and ammo of Troy at their disposal, if they used them to infiltrate the camp of the Moonbrothers. While Dean Bishop and Grissom Card were less than sure about this endeavor, the other three reacted “enthusiastically” to this proposal. Subjecting Troy’s armory to what Dean Bishop called “wholesale plunder” and even spiriting away the one remaining LMG from its position in the breach, they denuded the city’s defenses even further – something that might have influenced later events noticeably. After gearing up, the jhat drove to the camp the same night Hearthart declared his intentions.

According to Dean Bishop, the first attempt on Hecate’s life was a “grand, glorious and dismal failure”. He and Grissom Card remained about five clicks from the camp in the armored sedan, now enhanced by the hastily bolted on LMG. Makmande, JosĂ© Guanicontez and Luci entered the camp on Dirtbikes, hoping to make out the leader’s tent, kill her and to escape in the confusion. Regrettably, the camp was not only well organized, but it was populated only by warriors, numbering 300-400 ferales, with no women or children in sight, and large parts of it were situated in caves impervious to prior observation. The attack became bogged down very fast, and the three fighters escaped only through quick thinking and the application of superior firepower. JosĂ© Guanicontez was shot in the leg during the escape, taking another fighter from the jhat. A further foray towards the camp in the early morning, using the sedan and the LMG as a decoy or to force Hecate into the open and neutralize her, was repelled by accurate rifle fire. The jhat retreated to Troy’s water source to discuss their options. At this time, the men were unsure how to proceed further: The Moonbrothers, while having sustained heavy casualties, were not even close to being destroyed as an army, and their tactical discipline made further attacks on their camp suicidal, while the jhat’s combat capabilities eroded steadily.

At this point they became witness to Troy’s attempt to wipe out the Moonbrothers. They noticed two trucks and a jeep, all carrying armed men, leaving Troy at high speed, going towards the ferales’ camp. Deciding to follow the remaining healthy defenders, the jhat was forced to travel slower than the convoy. Thus, they arrived in a position to observe the fighting only after the battle had started. Hartheart seems to have opted for a full-bore assault, relying on the speed of the trucks and his men’s firearms to deal with the masses of ferales awaiting them. According to both witnesses it was a woefully one-sided affair. While Troy’s defenders brought massed rifles and vehicles to the fight, they had no intelligence about the camp’s set-up and its defenses, and Hecate seems to have implemented certain tactics to deal with just such an attack with the means available to her. The jhat became witness to the complete annihilation of Troy’s force – a dearly paid reminder of the dangers of underestimating any highly motivated, highly disciplined opponent because of his inferior gear.

After that, there was not much to do but to warn the city of its imminent destruction, and to evacuate. On its way there, the jhat noticed that the Yaddaheads under Terata’s command had left Troy and made camp about a click from the city. According to Terata, they were waiting to see how the end of the city would play out. Hartheart had ordered the Yaddaheads to accompany his troops on their ill-fated attack, but Terata had refused. After that, Hartheart had them thrown of the city. At the time, it appeared that Terata’s group was waiting for the Moonbrothers’ attack, or for the desperate citizens of Troy to barter for protection. It was after talking to Terata, that Makmande and Luci decided to have a third attempt at killing Hecate: Dean Bishop and Grissom Card were both not sure what drove the men to this course of action, but both characterize Luci as obsessed with personal glory, while Makmande seemed to have been duty-bound to make the attempt.

After bartering with the Yaddaheads for certain performance-enhancing drugs, the jhat left for the camp once again. Luci and Makmande planned to infiltrate the caves, silently this time, and hopefully while the Moonbrothers were celebrating their victory. Even so, the attempt appears suicidal. They had radios on them, and their last transmissions confirmed that the Moonbrothers were indeed feasting, and that Luci and Makmande made good progress. Then, as they rappelled into the caves, their signal vanished. This was the last the remaining three heard of them.

After waiting for a day at the rendezvous point, Dean Bishop, Grissom Card and JosĂ© Guanicontez returned to Troy, the death of Luci and Makmande being as good as confirmed. In their absence, Terata had been able to talk the citizens of Troy, and a recuperating Glosster, into rehiring them as protectors. The much-reduced jhat decided to stay in Troy for another 48 hours before starting their voyage back to Memphis, as JosĂ© Guanicontez’ leg was still hurt. In any event, everyone waited for the final attack of the Moonbrothers. The citizens’ appeared desperate or apathetic, while the Yaddaheads seemed to relish the thought of the coming destruction. If someone bore the jhat ill-will because of their solo attack on the Moonbrothers they kept it to themselves.

As the jhat prepared their sedan for a possibly very dangerous drive, a large number of vehicles and bikes was spotted in the west. As soon as this mass was identified as a host of Yaddaheads, Dean Bishop decided to leave Troy as fast as possible. Grissom Card agreed, while José Guanicontez decided to stay, although his motives remained unclear. While he claimed to remain behind for Luci and Makmande, it is quite possible that he worked for the Yaddaheads the whole time. As the sedan pulled away from Troy, Dean Bishop and Grissom Card both heard shooting from within the walls. Apparently, Terata decided to strike as soon as he was sure that enough of his accomplices were present.

The latest reports by our spies and the railers have confirmed that Troy was taken over by the Yaddaheads. It is suggested that jhat BELLADONNA is broken up, with the survivors receiving recommendation marks. Concerning the protection of Troy, MISSION TRO – 003 was a complete loss, on the other hand, we were able to collect valuable intelligence (see app. 1-4). In conclusion: The jhat performed admirably, if futilely, in the defense of Troy, and the composition of its members made it difficult to attain mission success after the death of Judge Benevol. The debacle of Troy being in the hands of the Yaddaheads is, in the end, the Tribunal’s fault: The buck does stop here. Concerning the Yaddaheads, we recommend an intensified effort concerning deep intelligence, even if this was an opportunistic strike, and not a coup planned well in advance.

It's alright

Just let it draw you in. It's not like you have anything better to do.

Saturday, July 30, 2011

Should you work for free?

Jessica Hische has the answer.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Caturday in eternity

Dmitri Orlov's new essay proposes a nice idea how to deal with dead Web 2.0 users. Instead of winding them down via passwords kept in testaments etc. we should keep them alive! Prop them up using appropriate expert systems, keep them posting cat pictures and tweets. First of all, this stabilizes and enhances the value of the companies involved: more users - more value. And our Facebook accounts and tweets will keep a semblance of civilization going, whispering to each other, even when we are long gone.

Monday, July 25, 2011

Google+: Your weird name makes Google nervous

My name is Karl Möller, but the world only knows me as Sausageman


YuccaTreePost offers a short but timely look at Google's opaque and irritating policy concerning the naming of one's profile in Google+ and it's effect on professional bloggers and other people whose pseudonyms have become their trademarks on the net. Basically, you may expect to lose access to your complete Google profile if you use a pseudonym and some jackass decides to denounce you, even if this pseudonym is well known in the blogosphere.

I personally think that the case for allowing pseudonyms is very strong, and preventing people from using them would be a step in the wrong direction. Apart from that I am afraid the company is scaring away new users of Google+ at a very critical time with their wavering on the issue. A clear and comprehensible policy would be most welcome.

In other news: You can now mute single users without throwing them out of your circles. This is an extension I've been waiting for since the whole Google+ thing started...



Saturday, July 23, 2011

Vaguely unsettling



....did she just vomit eyeballs?

via coilhouse

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Boys will be boys



via who killed bambi?

Monday, July 11, 2011

Google+: one fucking day

One day. That's the time it took for the first advert to appear in my (comparably miniscule) stream, trying to sell some casual game. You know, not Farmville, but something similar. I am bound to spend lots of time with Google+ and I hope that it is going to be a big honking success (if only to wipe the floor with facebook), but this doesn't bode well.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Taibbi on Bachmann

Matt Taibbi's exposé on Michele Bachmann, the possible tea party/ religious nuttery candidate for the American presidency in 2012, is easily the scariest thing you will read today. Bachmann is very, very crazy and the thought of her being somehow connected to the Oval Office is very, very scary - if she were angling for the presidency of Angola or Haiti, we could all have a good laugh, watch the carnage and send in the UN later to extinguish the pyres, but, regrettably, we are talking about the United States. And she makes Palin look like an unrefined prototype, a proof-of-concept at best: Palin is the mudskipper to Bachmann's frog.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Intimidation 101



This made my day. Players with intimidating characters should always have some of those quotes ready.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Scorched earth: What happened next?

The Scorched Earth campaign is still going strong. But after playing rather talky, very diplomatic and very careful characters for a long time, the players opted for something different, and the "false benefactor" plot line is developing on its own in the background, while the players make their influence felt in different places in the wastes. Two built very combat-oriented characters that took full advantage of the points you get for lowering you IQ-score, another one released an old sniper (José, for those with very long memories) from retirement: He once was basically a dumb guntower, now he has the potential to be the brains of the group. The fourth player opted out: no more spare time in the evening, and Dark Heresy is much more his style. Clearly, the remaining players wanted less talking, more shooting.

At the time being, they are in a besieged oil town deep in the Southwest, and there have been many, many fights against vicious ferales. Indeed, the sand runs red. I will put this adventure into story form, but possibly not in the same detail lavished on the exploits in Memphis and Refugium.


Saturday, June 25, 2011

The costs of gaming

I am a gamer, and I spent quite lot of my spare time gaming. And thus, I thought it would be nice to have a look at the costs of my hobby, financial and otherwise, if only to rank it with other pastimes. This list only refers to pen-and-paper, classical table-bound role playing games. Not to WoW (which costs a lot more time, and your immortal soul), not to tabletop games with lots of small plastic soldiers (which can become quite expensive) or collectible card games (ditto), and nothing else (get your mind out of the gutter). Also, it is purely subjective and anecdotal – possibly, it would be cheaper to hunt gold-plated dolphins from a speedboat made from diamonds and supermodels.

Time – This hobby appears quite time-intensive – in fact, this seems to be the reason why most people hang up their dice bags (that and a sore lack of being awesome). If you take you gaming serious, reserve about four hours a week, uninterrupted, mostly on one evening. Add about five to ten full days during your weekends per year for those special occasions where you play your five-year old campaign with the hardened criminals from your student days or one-shots with people who have been reduced to one-shots but still like to roll em bones once or twice a year.

Double that time (at the very least) if you are a game master – while most of the preparation will happen in your unconscious, that copious jungle producing all those neat new species of ideas, you still want to hammer out the details, think about your set-pieces, create maps, hand-outs etc. This can be quite time-intensive, but can be mitigated by spending some cash for pre-made adventures. If you are that kind of person.

The time investment of the players is comparable to…any other serious hobby. If you play any sport semi-competitively, you will have a very similar schedule, with weekly training sessions and competitions on some weekends. Game masters will spend much more time, but then they want to, mostly.

The only problem is syncing all players’ date planners, something many sports teams get done with a minimum of fuss, week in, week out.

Comparable to: Volleyball in a semi-serious team hungry for the local finals

Money – RPGs are potentially very, very cheap compared to any other hobby. I have a sizable collection of rule- and source books, and I use maybe 10% of all the stuff I bought over the years, with about half of it rotting away in moving boxes. I feel that I am luxuriously equipped for following my hobby. Nonetheless, all the money I spent since I started playing pretend with a grimly furrowed brow would not buy me a halfway decent motorcycle, plus paying for said motorcycles upkeep, or a surfing board plus the travel expenses to get to the exciting beaches. It is surely cheaper than a pack-a-day smoking habit. Gamers kvetch about 40.00 Euro rulebooks – 40.00 Euros buy 15 meters of rope and nothing else if you are into climbing up and down mountains. Recently, I splurged 70 Euros on a dice bag which I will probably use for the next twenty years. 70 Euros will get you one measly locomotive, if you are a H0 enthusiast, and a lopsided smile if you are into old paintings or sports cars.

Of course you can spend ludicrous amounts of money on this hobby if you choose to – it will certainly add variety to the hobby and make your job as a game master much easier. But, in contrast to many other hobbies, the economic entry level is laughably low, and costs can remain well within the Spartan boundaries of the pocket money doled out to a teenager growing up in a protestant household.

If you go full austerity, all you need are some sheets of paper, pencils, and some kind of no-cost random number generator. You could probably play RPGs in jail without too much fuss.

Comparable to: Something between chess played with a set made from breadcrumbs and an old mattress, and chess played with heirloom pieces, with a serious library on the subject on stand-by.

Space – Here we come to the first spot where gaming might be more “expensive” than other hobbies. While you just seem to need a table to seat all participants, you also need some privacy. Gaming is not exactly a spectator sport, mostly because the topics discussed appear morbid or even criminal to the casual observer. While you could host a game of Human Occupied Landfill at a open-air pool or a session of Dark Heresy in a public park, this might elicit hostile reactions by other visitors – thus a secluded space is needed. But you don’t need an ocean beach, or a mountain range, to enjoy gaming to the fullest. And while some privacy is surely a good thing, it is not absolutely mandatory – as for some other pastimes.

Comparable to: Learning languages for fun

Natural resources – Gamers sure kill a lot of trees with all their books, and those dice are made from – wait for it – plastics, so when the oil runs out, we will all be flipping coins to find out if we hit that ork.

In fact, I spend much time on the computer, researching for my own scenarios, reading pdf.s, looking for funky images etc. And - as we are finding out – the internet don’t come cheap energy-wise. It would probably less resource-intensive if I did yoga or some such. Still, compared to most sports and high-octane hobbies, gaming has a negligible carbon footprint. It possibly is worse than collecting stamps, but certainly ranks above collecting exotic fishes.

Comparable to: Playing World of Warcraft, stopping after five to ten hours a week, which no WoW-player ever does.

Health – A real weak spot of the hobby. If you are into gaming and nothing else, you can basically watch your body rot away with each passing week. Many outdoorsy hobbies are much better for your body (until you fall from your bike and get a nice open fracture), and serious gamers tend to be in bad shape. So it is mandatory to get out of the basement some hours each week – you will also find that a well oxygenated game master is a sharp game master.

Comparable to: Watching TV – for fun! No, seriously, gamers should spend some times doing sports.

Friday, June 24, 2011

Edjera

Another settlement added to the scorched earth materials: A map will be added in time.

A letter waiting in Holy Flame City

Hello my friend,

I hope this little report on my latest exploits finds you in good health – in any case I am available for that little scheme of yours. But first let me tell you about my last three months.

After the little ruckus in Memphis I accompanied the young benefactor to Refugium, partly out of curiosity, partly because I had the feeling that a sound profit could be had – if not now, then maybe in a few years’ time. We were still after those high-end assassins who impersonated benefactors, and one of their tracks led to the very edge of the Appalachians.

Refugium is much less impressive than it’s portrayal in the stories. It’s basically a big book dump in an old federal prison, tended by some forty hermits – although I must admit that their leader Ling is maybe the sharpest guy I have ever met. Some good trade may be had, but don’t hope for cheap discounts – the “monks” are very good traders.

We did these monks a few favors of a violent nature, and in the course of these actions we found out that one of these assassins (although not the one we hunted) had made himself king of a local tribe. While he was not willing to meet us in person – and I would never walk willingly into his camp – the old silvertongue works well enough via radio and he spilled a few secrets, stuff not fit for paper. We’ll meet soon enough; I’ll get you up to speed then.

One thing I can tell you, because LAW knows of this, and thus we can be sure it will become common knowledge before the month is over. The assassin was originally after a secret facility from the Long Ago, hidden deep in a train tunnel. This info was kept safe (but indecipherable) to Refugium’s keepers, and our assassin hadn’t found a way to steal this secret, and thus just became a Hanhan warchief instead. After some to and fro (and there might have been some threats), the monks shared this knowledge with the young benefactor, and using some gadget from the assassin’s gear, we were able to pinpoint the position. And some good scav was found. The monks from Refugium and the benefactors are set to make a deal to share the facility as a safehouse and laboratory – the Institute might not be as safe as it was, and thus the benefactors seem to be looking for alternatives, while the monks are probably happy for the top notch health care they will be getting. Regrettably, the lawlita in our group probably reported this news to the tribunal as soon as he found a working radio (anything for a shot at getting his tattoo) so the secret is out.

In any case: While I didn’t exactly make a fortune, I came away with a “palpable plus” as your fetid partner used to say. I’ll be back in Holy Flame at the end of the month – I had my fill of all things LAW, and thus meeting up in Memphis is out of the question. Anyway: After a few months with a constantly doped-up benefactor, his sidekick “the weird kid” and a self-righteous, bullheaded glory seeker from Memphis, it will be a joy to work with professionals again.

best regards & keep your powder dry

MP

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Now in English!

A glossary of the wastes has been arduously translated and now is at your disposal in the scorched earth materials post. In the future this will remain the variant which I will keep up to date - and the translation also contains some stuff not present in the German version.

Friday, June 17, 2011

DIY armaments

Sorry for the long absence - real life intruded and, like some kind of malevolent infestation, made for stressful days and unquiet nights and kept me from doing important things.

Like informing you about a nice photo essay in The Atlantic on salvaged, improvised and self-made weapons of the Libyan rebels. Technicals, hillbilly armor, retrofitted rocket launchers, oh my.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Nuclear power and democracy don't mix

Normally I don't post info that is common knowledge, but this just made me mad...and it proves to me that nuclear power corrupts the hell out of democratic governments. The citizen is expected to to keep his mouth shut and to stay calm even if the dear neighbors are sprouting eye-covered abscesses - and to pay his power bill. I dimly remember I was told in school that informed citizens are the cornerstone of our form of government. But that was one tech level ago, we still had black-and-white TV then, and maybe we can do without informed citizens today. Possibly, that was just a superfluous, bolted-on feature to the core function: consuming power and paying for it. Now, that the frills have been pared back, the citizen appears as a much meaner and leaner engine of consumption.

It is a miracle anyone on this wide world still believes Tepco: A sure way to find out if they are lying? Check if their mouths are moving...

So what can be done? Dmitry Orlov has some ideas.



Wednesday, May 25, 2011

I post this to gain some karma points

Someone reads this and drives a bit slower, survives a close call and goes on to live a good, in fact, an excellent life, being a joy to his contemporaries and an enrichment to the world as whole.

Or maybe I just skewed fate in a way that will keep Little Stalin a while longer among us.

You never know, and I never said I was after good karma points...

Friday, May 20, 2011

The end times are nigh!

As you may have heard, the Rapture is upon us...tomorrow! So there's really no need for finishing that PowerPoint presentation for Monday. Instead you should read this handy FAQ. Rich "Lowtax" Kyanka of SomethingAwful fame crawled from a hole to answer his readers' questions about heaven, getting to heaven and how to behave in heaven. Read it, you sinner!

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Biker gangs!

No post-apocalyptic setting is complete without hairy men on greasy bikes, wielding rusty implements of violence! Thus, I present the deathdealers - a dangerous and ancient scourge of the Wastes. An addition to the scorched earth materials.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

A requiem to an art form

For years, Tim Kreider's The Pain- When Will It End? was a weekly reminder that there was still hope for the United States, a lonely voice of indecency and uncommon sense in the howling Bushian wilderness. When he retired from cartooning a few years ago, my reaction was Fine! Have it your way. Guess I won't be motivated to kick off a revolution against the capitalist system strangling the world then. I'd loved to see his take on the global financial crisis, vampire squid etc.
Kreider has returned as a writer, and his essay on the state of cartooning in the age of the internet is insightful, funny and bitter.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

And another disadvantage...

This is for all you job hunters out there...

Easily Frustrated* (-5 points)
If you don’t at first succeed, try, try, try again…But that’s just not you. You show a marked lack of perseverance, and if you fail to solve a problem at a first attempt, you are apt to say “fuck it” and trot off. In game mechanics: If you fail a skill roll outside combat, the disadvantage may become active. In that case, you are not allowed to make any repeated attempts. No second tries at picking that lock, convincing a merchant to lower his price, finding that elusive fence…Some might think that you miss some stick-to-itiveness, but you just see yourself as a realist.

The relevant document in the scorched earth materials will be updated as well.

Message to a grandkid



Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Isar Smiley


It is summer. Life is good.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

The Eye and the box

It takes about a day for the HanHan to return – while Dan Hawking and Zed Memphis spot the warriors approaching the ruins, they lose them as soon as the ferals reach the town. The tall warrior meets them at the crossing, and he brings Ghosteye’s approval to have a talk via radio. He also broaches the subject of the prisoner. The young man is to be handed over, unharmed. The group is to drive towards the junkyard from Bozeman, and they will also wait for four hours, so that the ambassador and his companions can return to Ghosteye beforehand. Benefactor Rod and the others have no problems with these conditions. The watch the HanHan disappear and prepare for the drive to the junkyard.
Its is early afternoon when they reach their destination. The drive towards the junkyard was hard on their backs, basically just a rut between the brushes – even with the Conquistador and Zed’s dirtbike it was a tough ride. At one point the pass a column: three old refrigerators placed upon each other, their doors torn off. As they come closer, the explorers see that the refrigerators have been stacked with skulls. “Just a little reminder,” says Mal “the HanHan are ferales, treacherous and cruel. Expect a backstab any time, keep your guns handy.” The young HanHan, tied up in the backseat, fidgets as they pass the marker. Then, the junkyard rose in front of them: Walls of rusted hulks, a whole football field of smashed cars, vans and trucks, detritus discarded by the Long Ago. There seems to be a two-storied building in the middle of this mess, and a huge construction crane next to it. The grisly markers of the HanHan are everywhere: Skulls on rusty poles, scarecrows from bedsprings, bones and mirror shards. People seem to move on the red walls, Zed makes out some women among them, and a lot of men carrying crossbows and spears, clad in metal armor as red as the wrecks.
The explorers have not much time to take note of the scenery: A group of HanHan rises from cover less than thirty paces from their car. The tall warrior is among them: He seems to have earned the honor to talk to the outsiders. He strides towards the Conquistador, while his group keeps a respectful distance, fingering their cutters and spears. The tall warrior knocks against the car door “Free the prisoner”. Without saying a word, Rupert cuts the young man’s bonds and opens the car door. The young HanHan slinks away, towards the group of warriors. They give him sour looks, and Mal suddenly realizes that the prisoner quite probably will not be feted for his happy return, but that there might be harsh punishments in store for a warrior who allowed himself to be captured. The tall warrior waits until the prisoner has reached the group, then he smiles “Good. Now give me the radio”. He says it like it is some kind of strange animal, thinks Dan. Mal hands over one hand-held two-way radio. “I will return with the radio after the talk is over.” “Tell Ghosteye that we are on channel five.” “Yes. Wait for a few minutes.”
A few minutes pass. Mal grins painfully and is about to say something disparaging about ferals in general, as the radio comes to life. Channel five, damn, they know how to use a radio.
“Who is this?” squawks the box. A male voice, somewhere between thirty and forty, dry, self-assured.
Mal grabs the radio before the others react “This is Mal Porter. I am with Benefactor Rod, and three friends. We asked for a talk, an honest exchange of info.” -click-
“But you do not want to share the hospitality of my tent” -click-
“We think we all are easier where we are right now. Of course we would all be interested in a little honest face-to-face” he grimaces “but I for one would not come unarmed, and neither would you, or your guys, and that’s just a recipe for trouble, wouldn’t you agree. Anyways, we handed over your warrior, and I think we would both profit from sharing some news. Is it true you killed this visitor hand-to-hand?” -click-
A dry chuckle from the box “Not so fast. I also want to ask a question: How do you know that this visitor was so special?” Mal looks at the others. Rod nods. -click-
“We had dealings with men like them before. Good people died.” Rod takes over “I am a benefactor. Men like your visitor basically attacked our homes. We found out where they were headed. That’s why we are in these parts.” -click-
“That is interesting. Where are the others?” -click-
“Not so fast. You owe us answers too. Tell us a bit about your visitor.” -click-
“Very well. He was…one of those men you seem to have met before. A reminder of my past, and so I had to kill him. He seemed to be surprised.” -click-
“Your past?” -click-
“Where are the other men?” -click-
Rod hesitates, but he thinks that arguing in good faith might be the best approach here “Okay. One went to Memphis to do God knows what. Whatever it was: He failed. He is in a morgue in Uptown now. The second is somewhere in Oklahoma. We have no idea why, the only things he could destabilize and assassinate there are dogs and scorpions.” Mal thinks that this is not quite the whole of it, but he keeps his mouth shut. “The third went here. We thought he was after Refugium, because all of their books and their database.” -click-
“That might have been true. Anyway, I buried him and his mission. How did the man im Memphis die?” -click-
“We knew what to look for, and when we found him, we tried to take him out. LAW intervened and caught him. He died in the hospital in Uptown: His own poison tooth killed him.” -click-
A chuckle “That’s a primary design feature.” -click-
“What are you people?” Rod nearly shouts into the mike.
There is a long silence. “I was an infiltrator. I came here to recover a hardened data storage device, to upload it into a SKMR, a Subcompact Keystone Media Reader, which would send the data to Control, then return to Control for debriefing.” That is a lot of gibberish, even to technological guys like Mal and Rod. They take it in stride, and the voice on the box goes on “The data is in Refugium, they were sure about that, but I found no easy way to infiltrate the monks’ fortress on my own. I met the HanHan. End of story.” -click-
“End of story? Infiltrator for whom? Who sends these guys through our villages? Where do they come from? How do we stop them?” -click-
“Benefactor, this is the kind of knowledge that is of no use to you.” The voice sounds sympathetic “I was an infiltrator for Iron Eden. The name will mean nothing to you. They have a large base thirty clicks to the north of the Institute, and they will send infiltrators and soldiers south through your area as they see fit, and there is nothing you can do against it. Their military is very capable and extremely well equipped. And from might comes the right to rulership.” Rod grows pale, as the voice goes on “Don’t think about going to the base like you went to visit me. They kill every person that breaches the base, and they routinely count the field mice crossing the perimeter. My advice: If you want to avoid them, move elsewhere. Pack up and leave.” -click-
Mal senses that the stranger on the other end is in a talking mood and snatches the mike “How did you train to become an infiltrator? How many are there?” and, after a short pause “Why did you give it up?” -click-
“There are some of us…but I will not talk about my childhood and youth. Concerning your other question: There once was this huge empire, in a time before the Long Ago. It dominated three continents. Its capital was the marvel of the world. Rome, you might have heard of it. Once, one of its great generals rode with his companions through a village at the very border of the empire. It was sorry sight, a few hovels and barns, a dirt track instead of a road. The great general took a look around and said: I’d rather rule here than serve in Rome.” -click-
“I do not understand” -click-
“I was not born to serve. I learned that in the junkyard. The HanHan are my people, and I am their leader and protector. I have a wife and she is HanHan – an Iron Eden infiltrator would never marry. My warriors depend on me, and they know I will lead the HanHan to greatness.” -click-
Mal thinks: or maybe you just enjoy being the only dog in a pit full of rats, but he also has another thought “But you know that these Iron Eden folks will send another infiltrator here. They send a second guy, why not send a third, and a fourth…maybe these will be not so careless. Not to sound disrespectful, Ghosteye, but if such a man found out you scrapped your mission so you can rule the HanHan, he might just slip into your tent at night and pop a few bullets in your head.” He pauses to let this sink in “I understand that this…skimmer will read out the data and send them to your home base?” -click-
“Correct.” -click-
“Is there any way to copy the data that are transmitted?” -click-
“The SKMR has readout…so you think I still have this gadget around, for old times sake? You propose to take the SKMR to Refugium and ask the monks nicely for the storage device, uploading it and ending my mission, so that no further infiltrators will come looking for the data…and for me? And you will probably do it for free, because…there is something in it for you?” -click-
Mal grins “Even if they can roll right through the Institute, we are still interested in all scraps of info about Iron Eden. The skimmer might tell us something about their plans or the next target where they are going to strike, or something we could use to start negotiating with them. Anything is of value. And yes, you still have the skimmer. Not for sentimental reasons, I know.
But if you hand over the skimmer, your past will truly be past. No more looking over your shoulder. We’ll be going to Oklahoma next, and your old employers will most likely lose interest in this part of the world. The tale about a new, nearly superhuman leader of the HanHan is already out, but there’s nothing we can do about that, and everybody with half a brain will think that’s just stupid rumors – such tales pop up all the time.” -click-
Rod whispers “Nicely played.” Mal answers “Can’t shake being a trader.” The pause grows longer, then the dry voice returns “Very well. I think I can trust you to do as you have told – Thank god for self-interest.” A sigh. “Time to throw some useless rubbish out.” The is really very easy to use. Self-explanatory. Usability under pressure. A warrior will bring the SKMR and the radio out to your car. It sure was interesting talking to you. I trust we will never speak again.” The radio falls silent, and all attempts to raise Ghosteye fail. Some time later, the tall warrior reappears, alone.
He hands the radio to Mal, and an appliance the size of a lunchbox, blocky, with a small monitor and a key panel. The tall warrior says “Data storage device goes here. Just press Send, here. Ghosteye tells me the machine will do the rest. The data send will appear here.” He points to the monitor. “Ghosteye says you better read fast, or make a photo.” Then he turns and walks away. After a few steps he shouts “And do not come back. You are not welcome.”

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Two new disadvantages...

...for GURPS. They are house official - once again, creating some NPCs led to the creation of these hideous beauties. Enjoy.

Blind Spot (-5/ -10/ -15 points)
Denial is a river in Egypt. Certain problems do not appear as problems to you. You share a common conception of reality with the rest of us, but some things which most people would see as quite high on the personal to-do list are just not that important to you – if you notice them at all. Your husband’s drinking, the big lump growing from your neck, that smell coming from the basement – you just act as if that unpleasantness does not exist…or you are very good at rationalizing it away. One could see this as a special kind of delusion, but while a delusion will probably lead to (regrettable) actions, a blind spot never will. Blind spots are mostly linked to other disadvantages or undesirable developments concerning you character. A blind spot for -5 points might concern a lesser problem in your social circle, like an ally with an addiction (“Jack can handle this stuff.”), -10 points deal with something of comparable severity, but now the problem is yours (“I can handle this stuff.”) or a grave threat or harmful development in your life (“Although he is a vampire, he would never attack me – he loves me!”). -15 points blind spots are killers: “I can’t believe the CIA is hunting me – in fact, I won’t.”

Impatient* (-5 points)
You think that everybody is a lame sack of shit. Instead of gawking and dawdling and lollygagging, they should be going on with whatever they are supposed to be doing. You are constantly pushing people to work faster, and your schedules are ambitious, to say the least. Sometimes, your constant niggling “to just get on with it” might lead to some cut corners and thus to tragic results…
You come across as pushy, and thus most people react at -1.

Edit: The list in the Scorched Earth Materials post has been updated.

Friday, April 29, 2011

A talk in Bozeman

Benefactor Rod meets a single HanHan in the middle of the street – the others just melted into the ruins of Bozeman, a place each of them has known for years, while Refugium’s ambassadors had only a few hours to scout. Mal Porter looks at the two: Rod leaning on his aluminum staff, his grey poncho thrown over his shoulder, the red crosses on his shoulders on display, facing a large, sinewy man, armored with rusting metal plates, a red hubcap protecting his chest, his large hands never far away from a cruel hacking iron hanging from his belt. All hear the talk between the doctor and the feral via their HiTek headsets, and it is not going too well – the feral is quite sure that Ghosteye, new leader of the HanHan, will never leave the junkyard to talk to the men who captured one of his warriors, however interesting their information might be. But he offers hostages for his visitor's safety. Rod knows that his friends will never consent to visiting the junkyard, hostages or no. Mal Porter, for one, has experienced the inconsistent hospitality of ferales before, in the ruins of Chicago. It’s a mistake you make just once, he whispers via the com. The one won’t come out, the others won’t go in. As the negotiations stall, he has another idea: If Ghosteye is a false benefactor, he should be technologically inclined. He leaves his position and walks up to Rod and the feral. He gets a look at the hard man. Old scars crisscross his chest and arms, his face is sunburnt and painted with rust and chalk – a body shaped by times of hunger, fighting and struggle. A necklace with screws, small bones and teeths around his neck. Two old knives in his belt, apart from the scarred cutter. Improbably bright eyes measure Mal Porter. He probably thinks he can take my head in one swing, and maybe he’s right, better keep a bit of distance…”Does your leader know how a radio works?” The big feral snorts “Our Ghosteye knows how everything works. He could build a radio from scraps and dog’s blood.” Maybe he can, Rod thinks, but I am not quite sure if you know what the word radio means “Then I think I have a solution for our situation: We have some radios, they don’t go very far, so we’ll have to drive up to the junkyard.” The feral gives him a stony look. Mal changes tack “We give you one talkbox and we keep one. We talk using the boxes, so we do not have do go into the junkyard where our presence would just trouble your kids, and Ghosteye won’t have to leave his palace…safety assured for everyone. No need for hostages or such bunk. After the talk, you bring back the talkbox, and we go our separate ways. I think, Ghosteye would agree that this is a very smart solution.” A scavvy through and through, Red thinks. If a problem seems insurmountable, just raise the technological bar. The feral takes his time answering, but then he nods “I have to ask Ghosteye if this is agreeable. Wait here, you will have the answer next morning." Then he vanishes – he moves into the ruins and just is gone. Dan Hawking’s voice squawks though their headsets, crestfallen “Fuck, I lost him, it’s like he stepped into a wall…” It’s their playground, Mal thinks, they know it by heart. A few minutes later, Dan reports that the ferales are moving out of the ruins. They move trough the sparse shrubs and the shifting dust like fish in water, that’s what he tells his friends later, when he returns from his perch in the church tower. Not easy to keep a bead on one of them, not easy at all. Mal nods and keeps his thoughts to himself: If Ghosteye is not in the mood for a radio chat, this playground might become a battlefield right quick. And he sees to his weapons.

Justin Lin: Fast Five

Just dumb fun: This is the only reason for watching a movie like this. Dumb stunts, dumb big men saying dumb (but funny) things, a dumb plot with many dumb holes and some dumb gunplay to go with it. If you lower your expectations down to the level of grass roots and hastily buried hookers, a movie like Fast Five can be very entertaining.
The movie delivers, but nothing more. Some of its dialogs are so bad you will claw at your ears, some stuff strains the suspension of disbelief right past the snapping point into the realm were physics are replaced by angels dancing on needlepoints and some things make only sense in a moral universe very different from ours (your husband/ the father of your child has gone missing - you must presume that his stupid friends got him killed on their "last heist". As you enter your home deep in Rio's favelas, you see a large heap of cash on your bed - the share of your dead husband...and you are supposed to be happy about that. But maybe that's how they roll in Brazil.) Also, the movie tries to be about family or somesuch, when it should concentrate on the torque and recoil. But some of the banter is snappy and funny, the Rock and Vin Diesel chew up the scenery as completely over-the-top characters and cars are driven at high speeds and crashed into each other with abandon. And that's why I watched it, anyway.

Two and a half of five tattooed G-men

Friday, April 15, 2011

What is a manager?

A manager is a philosopher allowed to do (or apply) shoddy science while being paid too much money. That is Matthew Stewart's conclusion in The Atlantic. It's not a rant, but rather an insightful essay about the fundamental flaws of management as a science. There are also some interesting points concerning the history of management and common management training (getting your MBA), which, according to Stewart, only does two things:

- You make lots of new acquaintances. You build your rolodex. This is, of course, a very good thing, whatever your career.

- You show the world that you are committed to this kind of work: The MBA is like a tribal warrior's initiation scars.

But concerning the skills you need to run a business, Stewart thinks that you would be better off with a solid grounding in the humanities, which brings me to the (now rather old) observation that the humanities are the true life sciences.

Your day isn't weird enough. Check out this week's Photoshop Phriday at Something Awful.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Brutal and Deadly

In Western society, marketing a movie is second only to making the movie itself. Millions are poured into carefully constructed leaks, mini-features, trailers, online campaigns. The marketing budget of a tent-pole summer blockbuster is large enough to create a whole series of indie films or to fight a minor war. In Ghana, you get an old flour sack, paints and a brush. And in Ghana, you bring the awesome.


At the moment, the Pinakothek der Moderne in Munich exhibits seventy hand-painted movie posters from Ghana. They are crude and often very brutal and completely over the top: Like a guy carrying a knife between his teeth, and there is also a bloody head stuck to the tip of the knife. A jar full of eyeballs. Often, hacked-off body parts seem to be added just willy-nilly or because the painter still had some red and pink paint to get rid off. But the posters also point to a completely different way of consuming and perceiving cinema. If you want to reexamine your reaction towards Hollywood's marketing campaigns (are they really so different to painting the words "very brutal! very deadly! don't miss this!" on an old flour sack?) and your way of watching movies, this can be a place to start. Go on a Sunday, when it's dirt cheap, and also visit the other exhibitions.


Friday, April 8, 2011

The War Nerd tries his hand at a daily column

Gary Brecher must have broken up with his improbably hot girlfriend. For nearly three weeks he has been writing daily columns now. Here's one about wishful thinking and gun porn as a teaser. The War Nerd is an acquired taste, but I read his pieces with continuing interest.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Zack Snyder: Sucker Punch

In the first dream sequence, the heroine has to fight three samurai. The samurai are very big, like, say, trees. One of them also has a chain gun, which is also as big as a tree. It is not a chain gun, but rather a CHAIN GUN! The demonic tree-sized samurai fills the air with about three tons of ammo, demolishing a huge Buddhist temple in the process. This is the mother and father of all chain gun scenes. The chain gun scene in The Matrix is a duck fart compared to this. Then the heroine shoots his face full of holes. I watched all this with child-like glee.

There might be a serious movie under all this, and some meaning beyond "all men are sweaty, greasy, lecherous swine - including Don Draper". I am sure that Zak Snyder thinks so. I'm afraid, that it might turn out a Disney-approved meaning like "Believe in yourself!". But at the moment I am still giddy with the dream sequences. It is terrible to find out the exact level of one's own immaturity, but clockwork zombie Nazis, the heroes strafing a fantastic battleground with an WWII era bomber, a dragon going after said bomber...sometimes, you just have to let the awesome in, know what I mean?

5 of 5 VTOL-capable, auto cannon-armed powered battlesuits which have a grim, pink bunny face painted on the front/ face armor plating.

I'd pay for a desktop model of this suit.

You can't take it with you

A nice, short article by Dmitri Orlov about money: By now everybody knows that money is basically a belief system, but it is a belief that nobody seems to be able to shake. Orlov gives a hint how to proceed. Joseph E. Stiglitz deals with a different case, offering a different perspective...both texts are highly recommended.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Martian landscapes

A set of images in the Boston Globe hints at the splendors of our neighbor. Again the question pops up: Why aren't we there yet? What are we waiting for?

Sunday, March 20, 2011

He's Russian, so he should know a thing or two about the topic

If you are just overwhelmed by the information about Fukushima or were just woken from your hibernation chamber (because the final days are here, and They need your unique powers and expertise in this dark time), I recommend the short, concise look at nuclear melt-downs by Dmitri Orlov.

Friday, March 18, 2011

Security is not what you think it is

2011 shapes up to be quite an interesting year: The – still ongoing – revolutions in North Africa and the Middle East make for a furious first act, followed by a short comic interlude by German ex-defense minister, ex-PhD Guttenberg. Then the large quake in Japan, the tsunami, and now…this.

This leads me to the following observation. Security, as some clever people have remarked, is not an objective state, but simply a statement about risk – of the probability of something breaking down. “Security” just means that the probability of badness happening is low enough that you can live with the consequences of the badness. But the chance of failure will never drop to zero – in any system. Thus, talking about the “absolute safety” of any system is not a technical statement, but an ideological fallacy. This fallacy is mostly based on the assumption that one can cover all angles of a project (and that means all angles, with some kind of godlike vision and understanding), that everyone involved will always do a perfect job because no one will be tired, angry, stupid, proud, distracted, distraught or greedy - ever. In short: The project will be executed by perfect men. Regrettably, one of them is in a chained up in a basement in Johannesburg (for obvious reasons), while the other refuses to speak to people until he has counted all grains of sand on a certain beach in Mexico (also for obvious reasons).

In most circumstances, perceiving a risk which is "close enough to zero" as "equal to zero" can be quite useful, even necessary. This shift enables us to leave the house, to cross streets, buy groceries, ride bikes without worrying too much, even if the risk of badness happening are far from zero. But if the consequences of badness happening approach some kind of absoluteness themselves (this country is closed to humans until further notice) it is time to have a hard look at the fallacy of "close to zero equals zero" - and those who try to sell it to us.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Is it safe to come out now?

Geeks rule the modern world, for all that's worth. And they got their education rolling dice, at least that's what Ethan Gilsdorf thinks, in his eulogy of D&D and its nostalgic resurgence. A long read.

Monday, March 7, 2011

Some new GURPS disadvantages

I built some new characters during the weekend, and again I felt the pull of certain disad-combos: "Just take Bloodlust, Curious and Impulsive and you're good to go." More variety might be nice. While many disadvantages can be modeled by compulsive behaviors, I think that some closer definitions for certain kinds of attitude might be useful. With that in mind, I sat down and penned some new disads for my favorite game system. They will also be posted in the scorched earth materials, because these bad boys are now house official.

Aggressive* (-15 points)

You seek out conflict for its own sake. You are only happy in a fight – whether with words, fists or guns depends on your cultural background. You are not automatically a bully: You seek opponents, not victims. But if no worthy antagonists are around, you’ll do your best (or worst) to create some. But whoever you are: You only feel alive in a fight. You’ll never lack enemies, but your life will never be boring – it is like being a trickster, but tends to hurt a lot more. Roll every day, unless you’re still hurting from your last fight in some physical or abstract manner.

Dogmatic* (-5 points)

You are right, you know it and you have let the whole world know. This compulsive behavior afflicts religious people, scientists working in obscure fields, computer security people and probably everyone who was always selected last for a softball team in school. If you know somebody is wrong or does miss some information about a problem - even if it is completely trivial – you will tell him. This includes nobles and managers far above your station, belligerent drunks and murderous psychopaths teetering on the brink of a killing spree. Most people react to you at -1, even if they do profit from your information.

In Need of Harmony* (-5 points)

You cannot stand disputes. All that arguing makes your stomach hurt, so you keep your counsel and just go with the proposition of the leader – or the loudest member of the group. This is true even if you have a marvelous, foolproof plan worked out. This is basically the opposite of stubbornness. Some people think you are a pushover and react at -1, others like your soft-spoken, pliable nature.

Moral Coward* (-5 points)

“It is curious - curious that physical courage should be so common in the world, and moral courage so rare”. You would never endanger your social standing or your career. You’d rather look on while a village is torched than risk your chance at making colonel by speaking up. You keep your mouth shut while your company dumps carcinogenic waste in a playground for blind orphans, because you would be fired, and you can’t bear the thought of what the neighbors would say then. You will happily risk life and limb at various occasions, but being looked down upon…being an outsider…would be too much to bear. The disadvantage is rather cheap, as it will get you into hot water only very rarely.

Perfectionist* (-5 points)

Good is not good enough. In long term projects, especially those with an aesthetic component, you always look for a more elegant solution, something that has that certain je ne sais quoi. “Workable” or “quite alright” are insults to your sense of perfection. In game terms, you will retry a skill roll for any test if you are not at least -1 under your effective skill – unless someone stops you in time. This only applies to non-combat tests with no clear solution. While a lock is open when it is open, a text can always be rewritten, a mule can be re-packed, a thesis can undergo many, many changes until it finally captures the pure essence of your research…

Slipshod* (-5 points)

You hate to work too hard, and you know that a barely working solution is often good enough. Like the perfectionist disadvantage, slipshod only applies to non-combat tests with no clear solution or success, like writing, forgery, some kinds of research, building something or creating art. If the disadvantage becomes active, the GM makes your respective success rolls in secret. If you fail by a margin of 2 or less, he will tell you that you succeeded – your character thinks that his solution might be sloppy, but still “good enough”. Of course, most other people will be of a different opinion, or your work might just fall apart at an inopportune moment. Many people, especially professionals in the field insulted by your slapdash effort, react to slipshod work at -1 or worse.

Absolutist* (-5 points)

You tend to see people in black and white. Your friends are faultless beings of pure light, while your antagonists (and exes, and former employers) should all be lined up against a wall and shot. The psychological term for your attitude is “splitting”, and it means that if your opinion about someone changes due to some development or other, it will change by 180 degrees. While some of your allies like your unquestioning support, your absolute swings in opinion will disconcert many people – and by all means those who were shuffled from your good to your bad side.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Why do movies suck so bad (at the moment)?

Obviously not all movies of the last year suck: Just the last two months, we were graced by movies like Black Swan and True Grit. But the mass of movies seem to be terrible, terrible comedies, films about young vampires and sequels of sequels. Why is that? Mark Harris has the (longish) answer at GQ, of all places. It's the perfect storm of demographics and marketing, and although the usual suspects crop up, the (no-longer-)cinema-going public is also to blame.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Kaputtenberg

KT von und zu Guttenberg is no longer our defense minister; in no time, we will be overrun by dastardly Frenchmen who have only waited for this moment. What we've learned: Don't mess with science, even if you have BILD in your corner. The taz has a nice overview on the net's reactions to KT's flame-out.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Deus Vult!

The Magnum Opus enforces God's plan for the Wastes. They are the last of the righteous, and they shall drive the unbelievers before them like scattered ashes. An addition to the scorched earth materials.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Assassination is a form of flattery

The war nerd has a longish piece on assassination as a human resources project. Basically, assassination is your enemy deciding who should be leaving your organization, and from this viewpoint it appears useful to take out your top achievers, while leaving your deadwood and seat warmers in peace. As always, it makes for grim reading and is festooned with images of physics doing her harsh mistress-thing on the human body.

Brecher wrote his piece from the viewpoint of someone organizing assassinations. But what about the prospective victim? If you are a prime asset to your organization, the enemy HR department will send you a pink slip wrapped around a pound of plastique. If you are underperforming, your own organization will punish you - by firing you, exile or court martial. So, basically, this is what you should do as a member of any organization being targeted by this method of attack: Remain in a carefully calibrated state of mediocrity; at least as long as the two ranges of (in)competence inviting censure (from your own organization, or the assassin's) do not overlap. You are not high-profile enough to be taken out, but while you might do a meh-job for your own side, you are not bad enough to be punished.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Redefining the PhD

Germany is in an uproar. The great shining light, the One True Hope, the messiah of conservatism, our one and only defense minister, Karl Theodor von und zu Guttenberg (or KT, as he is known to friends and admirers) seems to have plagiarized large parts of his dissertation. And thus, it seems apt to talk about the institution of the PhD itself, and how it has to change in today's marketplace. In this discussion, I want to show that Guttenberg did nothing wrong. Until he fucked up.

In Germany, the PhD becomes somewhat of a prerequisite at a certain level. A career in higher management is certainly possible without one, but at a certain point you are somehow expected to have one. From this point on, a bit of doublethink is necessary. On one level, the PhD has to mean that its holder has more knowledge about his chosen field than a guy who "just" spent four years studying at uni. People assume that the holder worked for years, studiously, exhaustively, at his thesis, becoming an expert on a tiny field or singular topic to the point of nerdiness. He is a critical thinker and "knows how to do science". Also, he adheres to some code of ethics - no copy/paste, check your sources, that kind of thing. And that he could do it again, because, by now, he has the necessary mindset and methods at his disposal. In GURPS-terms, this definition of the PhD could be represented by a one-point advantage, a perk giving you a tiny reaction bonus with some parts of the general population. You got if for free when you put those eight skill points into Mayan history.

The redefined, career-optimizing PhD has a completely different prerequisites and also says different things about its holder, which are, by the way, much closer to the demands of a position in management.

- You know how to delegate the stuff you can't do yourself: No way you are spending hours and hours over some political or economic topic (let's face it: a career-optimizing PhD probably won't come from other fields). You probably could whip up a dissertation yourself, but then your "real" projects would suffer - or maybe you just can't do it, you couldn't do it at uni when it was just forty pages and now you are completely out of your depth. So you do what any competent manager does and farm the sucker out to some schmuck who knows how to handle this kind of thing.

- You know the right people: Not only do you have the ear of a sympathetic professor who will read the bundle of paper, basically, any bundle of paper, you present to him and declare it a scientific breakthrough, but you also know how to contact a trustworthy and competent ghostwriter. This is where Gutti probably dropped the ball: He knew enough willing professors in Bayreuth alright, but when it came down to slumming, he was not able to find a ghostwriter worth his money. Or maybe he already fumbled in step one: delegating responsibility for things you can't do yourself. If you get your PhD this way, you show that you have one serious rolodex on your desk, and you are who you know, right?

- You have some savoir-faire: You won't just buy a title from some fly-by-night uni in Hungary or Nigeria. You know people in the right unis in Germany or USA, unis with some name-recognition oomph.

- You have some money: A good ghostwriter doesn't come cheap, so the the true poor are excluded. Of course, getting your PhD the hard way also burns resources, but this is more in the vein of money not made, instead of a lump sum spent. A bought PhD shows that you have some wealth to burn for self-fashioning and representation, and that you are eager to spend money on the image you present to the world.

- You are able to live with the doublethink: You are able to balance the old image of the PhD as outlined above with your new shiny PhD, at the same time, without experiencing the conflicts between those two concepts. You are able to work and talk with others being in the same doublethink-space without experiencing unease or moral qualms. Self-explanatory.

- Now you can be blackmailed! If you want to become a member of an exclusive club, this club may also want to have some power over you. So, if at some point in the future, you regret the moral implications of your work, the people who know you best will be able to discredit you as a fraud with the push of a button. Your loyalty is assured, the right people can count on you. This makes you a member of the team, baby!

So there you have it. I think that most attacks on Guttenberg miss the point: He didn't go for an old-fashioned PhD, but for a degree that would further bolster his career and his shot at he chancellorship. Thus, he should not be castigated for plagiarizing or hiring a ghostwriter per se, but rather for not delegating responsibilities or hiring the wrong people for the job. Those are flaws disqualifying him as an apex manager, so I guess that the outcome should be the same.