Last One, I Promise.

I've finally committed to a web site, and it's here. I'm putting this notice here in case anybody comes around looking for me. I swear by all that is holy that this is the last thing I will ever write on this blog. I hope.

Check out my new webpage

I've made a new website, and it's devoted to my interest in games and narrative. Right now, the only part that's interesting is the blog part, so that's what I'll link to. My blog is moving there now, so I won't really be updating here. The site is still a bit messy, but the posting works, so come on down (yee-haw!)

New Web Page!

So I'm creating a web page (perhaps soon to be a web site), which will be all about Tyranids. Yes, Tyranids. I'm doing it for a work assignment and I'm just learning XHTML, so it will probably look kinda funny for a while, but here it is if you'd like to see it.

Now That's Real Baseball!

I remember some years ago when I was watching baseball with my Dad, and I don't quite remember which game it was or which context, but we were rooting for the D-backs and the game was under National League rules. We're a staunch National League family going back at least as far as my grandfather. This may not mean much to some people, and in truth I don't understand it that well myself, but for the purposes of this anecdote all that really matters is that the rival American League uses designated hitters--that is, a substitute hitter will almost automatically take the place of a pitcher in the lineup, encouraging players to specialize instead of participating in every aspect of the game, and reducing the use of strategy in the late game. Anyway, it was a late inning and the atmosphere was critical, and Randy Johnson, a star pitcher, steps up to the plate with a man in scoring position. He taps a bunt down the middle, sending the shortstop and the pitcher scrambling to get it. He gets thrown out eventually, but buys time for the other guy to slide into home. At this, my Dad stands up from his chair, exclaiming ecstatically, "Yeah! That's real baseball!"

Of course, my friends who are reading this are not that interested in baseball: Warhammer 40k is our sport of choice. But the feeling I had during my last game was exactly the one, I'm sure, sports fans of every stripe feel when they see the reason they love the game fulfilled to the last letter. And for me, it was even more, because for the first time, my army had clicked for me. Before, I had been playing them rather generically, just moving forward and attacking whenever I had the opportunity. But in the last battle I had with Rafi, the soul of the Tyranids shone through to me. It wasn't only that I had tremendous luck--my little darlings defied death at every turn--but they were operating in a way that profoundly reflected everything I'd always loved about them. Many of my broods never left cover, scuttling through it at astonishing speed while the enemy fired blindly into the trees. On turn two, my Raveners and Lictors crashed the party, and the board was positively swarming with Nids, most of them closer to the enemy lines than a shooty army like the Imperial Guard would have liked--and all of them scary, juicy targets. There were simply too many of them to shoot, and they were so close, so fast. Even if luck had failed us and we had lost, I would have loved how it unfolded, because for the first time I felt the Tyranids. Stealthy, sneaky, creeping up through cover, bursting out of the ground, overwhelming the enemy with claws, jaws, and living ammunition! Even if it doesn't always work out that way, that's the spirit of it, all right. I think I'm going to enjoy playing a lot more from now on, win or lose. I've also settled on a name for my army: Hive Fleet Carcharias, after my favorite non-fictional beast. After a while mucking about, I feel I've found them: the real Tyranids!

I Hate Titles

It's difficult to live up to one's own ideals, so I try not to hold it against people too much when I disapprove of their actions. After all, why should they have to follow my own arbitrary ideas about how one should conduct one's life? I don't follow theirs. And I know that everyone can be unpleasant sometimes, although hurting others is never their intention. Therefore, I try not to judge. Unfortunately, this too is an ideal, subject to the same weakness as all the others: emotions. Sometimes I do judge. I probably judge quite a lot, more than I realize. It's difficult to always live by one's principles, especially if they primarily focus on not hurting others, because whether we are helpful or burdensome to others at any given time is often based on our mood. Of all the things about ourselves we ought to control, mood is the hardest (at least for me).

Still, often it's OK that the people you love should have to deal with your moods--they signed up for it by loving you, and usually you deal with their moods, too. But it isn't right that the people I live with, whom I love, should have to deal with me judging them (even if some of them don't realize that I do). Honorability is a luxury, after all, and I'm far from perfect at it myself. I will make additional efforts to stop judging, since I realize I've been doing a lot of that lately. It's something I owe to everyone else.

Go Go Gadget Libertarian!

I really like Libertarians a lot, though I myself am not one. Just for clarification, I'm talking about the American kind, not the proponents of the general philosophy, hence the capital "L." As the title of this post suggests, I like them because, dammit, they're handy. Why? Because they they can chastise Republicans with impunity.

This isn't to say that Democrats don't chastise Republicans, because they do, a lot, in lieu of actually accomplishing anything. But Libertarians have the huge advantage of possessing the respect of conservatives, despite being only half-conservative themselves. Conservative Republicans just can't dredge up the hatred for Libertarians that they have for Democrats, putting the former in the interesting position of being able to walk all over them, revealing their flaws without reprisal. Not that this will save the world or anything, I just get a kick out of it whenever a Republican is scolded by a Libertarian and then feels too guilty to do anything but shuffle from foot to foot. See, I think Republicans all don't want to admit that Libertarians are REAL Republicans in the same way that the Green Party is the REAL Democrats. Nobody likes to be a fake. I love it when a Libertarian jumps in the fray and declares the Patriot Act unconstitutional, or criticizes the Iraq war as grossly interventionist, and instead of getting mad the Bushies just hem and haw--because they know that the Libertarians are everything they ought to be. It tickles me pink. Unlike the Democrats, who are large and obligated to get stuff done, the Libertarians are free to shake things up a little, just because they can. And sometimes, they point out something obvious that the whole reasonable population of the country knew but politicians didn't, because most of them suffer from a political disease that causes them to see the nation's issues in terms of money and boring. These moments are when I'm prompted to stand up and shout, "Go Go Gadget Libertarian!"

Now, you might be asking, "If you like Libertarians so much, why aren't you one yourself?" The answer is simple. Some of the things they propose are batshit insane. Therefore I don't think I'd become one myself, though I do respect their third-party-ish consistency. You can just trust them not to be fucking hypocrites, and that's enough for me to want more of them around. Just for fun.

Now I Feel Better

I swear it's provably true: talking things over with friends can make anything great again. Sorry for all the drama, back to your regularly scheduled nonsensical programming.