Showing posts with label Humour. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Humour. Show all posts
Saturday, July 30, 2016
Sunday, January 10, 2016
The Funniest Thing I Have Seen in a Year
Found this about two weeks ago. Showed it to the D&D crowd last night. Great laughter all around:
I particularly want to give kudos to the artist(s) who developed the icons, logos and script for the various scenes. Brilliant.
I particularly want to give kudos to the artist(s) who developed the icons, logos and script for the various scenes. Brilliant.
Thursday, August 13, 2015
Yossarian
"As a new DM who had his first session last night even I can tell a lot of this advice is shit. Last night playing 5e a fucking bug-bear got 2 fucking nat 20s in a row and rolled max dmg on both. I'm playing a the first session of a campaign and I'll be damned if im going to let 2 of my players take 36 dmg each before the can even make a dent for the third player. So hell yeah I fudged the fuck out of it. Both attacks still hit but instead of being one-shot they were brought close to death and had an intense encounter that had them sweating."
A sentiment supported by Carl Nash in the comments:
Sometimes I'm not sure if, like some people, they're not seeing the issue here because they can't see that Yossarian is naked . . . or if they're well aware that Yossarian is naked and they just don't care.
I'm committed to change in habit, so I don't want to go after either of these guys - they used to both be regular readers. Hell, I've had Michael in my online campaign and he's a damn good player. That said, however, I am just baffled.
If I take Carl's last words as absolutely true - and I have no reason to doubt that they are - then I truly wonder why it is that any table, anywhere, ever argues about anything. Because all I can see from both statements above is the question,
"What if I, as the player, think I've done something noteworthy and you, as the DM, do not?"
Presumably, as Carl says, it is talked over and negotiated. I am wondering how. I am wondering how that looks. I am cracking my brain trying to figure out how defeating the were-unicorn and selling the were-unicorn horn are both equal to 10% of my way to 5th level.
Still, my incomprehension over that is nothing compared to the relative stupefaction I feel over a whole audience of readers who feel no reason to scream that Yossarian is naked.
But that was Heller's point, wasn't it? People don't point it out. They ignore it. It's too out there. Too far gone. Too nuts. On some strange whacked out level, like an RPG-22, it sounds reasonable, there's precedent, the rules are written down and that is just how it is. The only problem with Yossarian's lack of clothes is the lack of anywhere to pin the medal.
I feel a warm glow - and at the same time such a deep sense of loss that I crumble. It is such a terrible shame that I cannot play in the campaign described above. For the record, however, reversing the words, "fudged the fuck," precisely describes how I feel about Reddit.
Once upon a time I tried posting blog links to Reddit as a way of building up readership. Then I found that everyone who found me through Reddit was . . . challenged. So I stopped. But now and then, if I write something truly heinous, someone does the linking for me.
Yesterday's post was fairly harsh and was a cold stab at humour, but I do feel all the advice given was accurate and useful. It does not surprise me that many people would feel that getting rid of the screen or not changing the campaign weekly are meaningless adjustments to their weekly gaming session - I can assure the reader most wholeheartedly that would-be homebuyers do not research their target suburb, they don't check access to public transportation and shopping, they don't consider surrounding neighborhoods and they don't talk to experts. People don't follow advice. That's what makes advice columns such a mainstay in virtually any trade magazine/webpage in existence. It doesn't matter how many times we tell the reader the advice . . . they didn't hear it last time and, like a goldfish, they will think it's new.
[I have no idea what the poor author of the realestate page thinks, this being the second time I've linked to her; Vanessa's woopra is probably having a fit]
Nor does it surprise me when people think I've made grand assumptions or gone off the handle without, apparently, realizing it. This is something true about the internet. When your close friend in the state department makes a huge, grandiose joke about the idiocy of the government in a fit of frustration, you're pretty sure he's staging his remarks with plenty of irony. Put it on the web, however, and that shit is real. "Jeez, the writer must have escaped his straight jacket, jimmied the door, beaten a guard with his own nightstick and locked himself in the ward's office to write this fucking post. He doesn't know anything about D&D!"
Blogs famously having exactly one post. No others.
I could probably repost something I put up a month ago and 90% of the readers wouldn't notice. I am reminded of Yossarian challenging his comrades that he could show up at formation naked and no one would notice.
As it happens, they do notice. They just don't care.
For example, the response to this proposal (sorry, Michael, but this post was just full of goodies):
"My rule of thumb is geared towards something that Jeff Berry/Chrine said during GaryCon this past April 2015... that the EPT campaign he'd been in didn't revolve just around the concept of advancement based only on monsters killed and treasure kept, but also revolved around how the players worked themselves into various organizations and power structures within the world. If someone has been affecting things for their chosen religion, or for their city, or is known throughout a region, they're not "2nd level" anymore, no matter what the spreadsheets say."
A sentiment supported by Carl Nash in the comments:
"At the end of every session I tell the players what I see as the accomplishments they made and write them down in the session log in decimal format (so if the players just turned level five last session and had three accomplishments I would notate it thusly "5.1 defeated the were-unicorn, 5.2 negotiated with the toad demon to keep the unicorn horn, 5.3 found a buyer for the unicorn horn and sold it). I let the players have a chance to talk it over with me, sometimes I overlook a significant accomplishment and if they can convince me they did something that I missed I will include it. It usually works out to level up every 2-3 sessions. A bunch of high level PCs killing goblins wouldn't count as a significant accomplishment - I use common sense and have an open dialog with the players and I have never ran into problems."
Sometimes I'm not sure if, like some people, they're not seeing the issue here because they can't see that Yossarian is naked . . . or if they're well aware that Yossarian is naked and they just don't care.
I'm committed to change in habit, so I don't want to go after either of these guys - they used to both be regular readers. Hell, I've had Michael in my online campaign and he's a damn good player. That said, however, I am just baffled.
If I take Carl's last words as absolutely true - and I have no reason to doubt that they are - then I truly wonder why it is that any table, anywhere, ever argues about anything. Because all I can see from both statements above is the question,
"What if I, as the player, think I've done something noteworthy and you, as the DM, do not?"
Presumably, as Carl says, it is talked over and negotiated. I am wondering how. I am wondering how that looks. I am cracking my brain trying to figure out how defeating the were-unicorn and selling the were-unicorn horn are both equal to 10% of my way to 5th level.
Still, my incomprehension over that is nothing compared to the relative stupefaction I feel over a whole audience of readers who feel no reason to scream that Yossarian is naked.
But that was Heller's point, wasn't it? People don't point it out. They ignore it. It's too out there. Too far gone. Too nuts. On some strange whacked out level, like an RPG-22, it sounds reasonable, there's precedent, the rules are written down and that is just how it is. The only problem with Yossarian's lack of clothes is the lack of anywhere to pin the medal.
". . . it was even possible that none of what he thought had taken place, really had taken place, that he was dealing with an aberration of memory rather than of perception, that he never really had thought he had seen what he now thought he once did think he had seen, that his impression now that he once had thought so was merely the illusion of an illusion, and that he was only now imagining that he had ever once imagined seeing a naked man sitting in a tree at the cemetery."
Joseph Heller, Catch-22
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
Conspiracy Infancy
A conspiracy theory before enough time has happened to allow the conspiracy to theoretically occur:
Step 1: Stop tracking American phone use.
Step 2: Blow up something HUGE.
Step 3: Justify enslavement of Americans.
The government has a plan.
Step 1: Stop tracking American phone use.
Step 2: Blow up something HUGE.
Step 3: Justify enslavement of Americans.
The government has a plan.
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Marketing
Somewhere, at some time, this conversation has taken place.
Vice President of Content Marketing: Next on the schedule ... the time has come again to release the Wizard of Oz. We're going to call it a 'Nostalgia Edition.'
Distribution Coordinator: Good. Good idea.
Content Manager: Excellent. What special features will it include?
Vice President of Content Marketing: We'll get to that. First, there's a matter that needs to be addressed. As I understand it, it's an old film.
Content Manager: Yes, I think it was made ... what, 60 years ago?
Operations Consultant: 75. We want to take advantage of the anniversary.
Vice President of Content Marketing: It doesn't matter. The point is that it's old. And as I understand it, parts of the film are actually in black-and-white.
Content Manager: Yes, something like twenty minutes.
Vice President of Content Marketing: Right. A part at the beginning and (checks notes) about two minutes at the end. What are we going to do about that?
Distribution Coordinator: I'm sorry ... are you saying the rest of it is in color, except for twenty minutes?
Operations Consultant: Yes. The film runs 101 minutes.
Distribution Coordinator: So ... what was that about? Did they just run out of money?
Operations Consultant: We don't know why they did it that way.
Vice President of Content Marketing: None of this is the point. What are we going to do about it?
Content Manager: Well, people definitely don't like black-and-white films. We have testing for that.
Operations Consultant: We could colorize it.
Vice President of Content Marketing: How much will that cost?
Operations Consultant: Much less than we're going to make on the resale.
Vice President of Content Marketing: Done. Look into it, see if there are any issues and get back to me. Let's talk about what additional content we'll be adding ...
I love marketing.
I have decided to go with the original title I planned, and damn the misery it may create for me. There are some bitter realities that have to be faced, particularly in that I'll be selling to book to people who have never heard of the blog, and don't know that the content isn't horribly dry and dull. There's a very real possibility that the marketing forces that are pushing me towards a title change are right, and that the book is going to fall flat on its face because it isn't exciting enough on the outside.
And still, there's the reality that I'm not trying just to pimp out another crap book on the market that needs a jazzy title in order to have value. I only need to think about the times I have wandered the shelves of gaming stores, looking for something that isn't just more of the same. 'More of the same' is the watch-phrase for the role-playing world, and is a principle that is adhered to not only by the business end of the game, but by the grassroots as well, as is evident in bulletin boards and blogs. If I post a particular point, I can count on getting the same basic response - take yesterday, for instance, when I titled the post Splitting the Party and the entire readership responded with, "this is going to be more of the same" ... only to be surprised when it was not.
On some level we're all trained. We wade through the shelves, where every book's spine is colored with incomprehensible goo because it is a slice of the cover image that stretches from the front cover to the back, and every title is in the same collection of clever medieval fonts, as if THIS time the book you buy really will prove to be useful because we haven't deviated from the font that says it was written by old monks in the fourteenth century. I'm not saying this angrily, mind. It's all a bit sad. I feel a bit sad.
I'm told now that the game store in my city, the Sentry Box, is the "Largest in Canada." I have no idea how valid that is. I don't imagine there are many game stores across the country that it needs to compete with, and at any rate we in Canada all know that's just another way of saying, "Smaller than many stores in the U.S." That's a fact of life.
It's fairly big for a store, and it has lots and lots of stuff. I never buy anything there. The last thing would have been a battle map that was 4 feet by 3 ... I never use it. There may be 46,000 items in the store, but for all the value they have for me, the store might just as well be empty. There's a game association that meets there, that has been playing 4e (where I stopped in months ago), but now I understand they are making a rule that says if you don't play D&D Next, you're not permitted to play there. That's a little fascist in my opinion, but it's probably good business for the store somehow.
My point is that what I have looked for over the past 20 years is something different. 'Different' is not in the offing. I'm not sure I'd recognize it if it were, what with all the dramatic artwork blending together into one big swirl. I know that when I've stopped there (it's across the street from my favorite music bar), and I take something off the shelf, all I see is more of the same. Another set of skill-based rules, another collection of armor and weapons, another smattering of magic presented as chi, karma, voodoo or supernatural vampirism. The words change but the idea doesn't. You are this, you are part of this group, people in this group have these abilities, you can choose which ones to expand upon, here is your dress, here is your pre-made collection of moral-codes you obey, etcetera. Pick from one of a hundred different groups according to what moral-code you like. On every level it is the same as picking whether you prefer sea salt & dill Triskets, tomato & old ham, Greek gyro & fennel or menthol & old tire. It's a choice. It carries the illusion of freedom because there are lots and lots of choices. More than you'll ever have time to play.
In all that, I mostly want to look different. I want the book to sound different. I want the fellow walking by my table to see the highest quality booth, with smart, together people talking animately and passionately about role-playing games, and then to look at the white book with a simple, sharp image on it and think, "This is unexpected and different."
I'm setting myself up for having to sell refrigerators to Eskimos ... but I have a team supporting me that have all made their living on the basis of sales. I have done that, too. There's a reality about sales that many people in marketing fail to grasp.
It isn't the product that makes the sale. It's the salesperson. The benefit here is that when I bamboozle the buyer into buying the product against their best instincts, because I've convinced them long enough to get their money, they'll be pleasantly surprised to find they've bought something valuable.
I'm counting on that.
Vice President of Content Marketing: Next on the schedule ... the time has come again to release the Wizard of Oz. We're going to call it a 'Nostalgia Edition.'
Distribution Coordinator: Good. Good idea.
Content Manager: Excellent. What special features will it include?
Vice President of Content Marketing: We'll get to that. First, there's a matter that needs to be addressed. As I understand it, it's an old film.
Content Manager: Yes, I think it was made ... what, 60 years ago?
Operations Consultant: 75. We want to take advantage of the anniversary.
Vice President of Content Marketing: It doesn't matter. The point is that it's old. And as I understand it, parts of the film are actually in black-and-white.
Content Manager: Yes, something like twenty minutes.
Vice President of Content Marketing: Right. A part at the beginning and (checks notes) about two minutes at the end. What are we going to do about that?
Distribution Coordinator: I'm sorry ... are you saying the rest of it is in color, except for twenty minutes?
Operations Consultant: Yes. The film runs 101 minutes.
Distribution Coordinator: So ... what was that about? Did they just run out of money?
Operations Consultant: We don't know why they did it that way.
Vice President of Content Marketing: None of this is the point. What are we going to do about it?
Content Manager: Well, people definitely don't like black-and-white films. We have testing for that.
Operations Consultant: We could colorize it.
Vice President of Content Marketing: How much will that cost?
Operations Consultant: Much less than we're going to make on the resale.
Vice President of Content Marketing: Done. Look into it, see if there are any issues and get back to me. Let's talk about what additional content we'll be adding ...
I love marketing.
I have decided to go with the original title I planned, and damn the misery it may create for me. There are some bitter realities that have to be faced, particularly in that I'll be selling to book to people who have never heard of the blog, and don't know that the content isn't horribly dry and dull. There's a very real possibility that the marketing forces that are pushing me towards a title change are right, and that the book is going to fall flat on its face because it isn't exciting enough on the outside.
And still, there's the reality that I'm not trying just to pimp out another crap book on the market that needs a jazzy title in order to have value. I only need to think about the times I have wandered the shelves of gaming stores, looking for something that isn't just more of the same. 'More of the same' is the watch-phrase for the role-playing world, and is a principle that is adhered to not only by the business end of the game, but by the grassroots as well, as is evident in bulletin boards and blogs. If I post a particular point, I can count on getting the same basic response - take yesterday, for instance, when I titled the post Splitting the Party and the entire readership responded with, "this is going to be more of the same" ... only to be surprised when it was not.On some level we're all trained. We wade through the shelves, where every book's spine is colored with incomprehensible goo because it is a slice of the cover image that stretches from the front cover to the back, and every title is in the same collection of clever medieval fonts, as if THIS time the book you buy really will prove to be useful because we haven't deviated from the font that says it was written by old monks in the fourteenth century. I'm not saying this angrily, mind. It's all a bit sad. I feel a bit sad.
I'm told now that the game store in my city, the Sentry Box, is the "Largest in Canada." I have no idea how valid that is. I don't imagine there are many game stores across the country that it needs to compete with, and at any rate we in Canada all know that's just another way of saying, "Smaller than many stores in the U.S." That's a fact of life.
It's fairly big for a store, and it has lots and lots of stuff. I never buy anything there. The last thing would have been a battle map that was 4 feet by 3 ... I never use it. There may be 46,000 items in the store, but for all the value they have for me, the store might just as well be empty. There's a game association that meets there, that has been playing 4e (where I stopped in months ago), but now I understand they are making a rule that says if you don't play D&D Next, you're not permitted to play there. That's a little fascist in my opinion, but it's probably good business for the store somehow.
My point is that what I have looked for over the past 20 years is something different. 'Different' is not in the offing. I'm not sure I'd recognize it if it were, what with all the dramatic artwork blending together into one big swirl. I know that when I've stopped there (it's across the street from my favorite music bar), and I take something off the shelf, all I see is more of the same. Another set of skill-based rules, another collection of armor and weapons, another smattering of magic presented as chi, karma, voodoo or supernatural vampirism. The words change but the idea doesn't. You are this, you are part of this group, people in this group have these abilities, you can choose which ones to expand upon, here is your dress, here is your pre-made collection of moral-codes you obey, etcetera. Pick from one of a hundred different groups according to what moral-code you like. On every level it is the same as picking whether you prefer sea salt & dill Triskets, tomato & old ham, Greek gyro & fennel or menthol & old tire. It's a choice. It carries the illusion of freedom because there are lots and lots of choices. More than you'll ever have time to play.
In all that, I mostly want to look different. I want the book to sound different. I want the fellow walking by my table to see the highest quality booth, with smart, together people talking animately and passionately about role-playing games, and then to look at the white book with a simple, sharp image on it and think, "This is unexpected and different."
I'm setting myself up for having to sell refrigerators to Eskimos ... but I have a team supporting me that have all made their living on the basis of sales. I have done that, too. There's a reality about sales that many people in marketing fail to grasp.
It isn't the product that makes the sale. It's the salesperson. The benefit here is that when I bamboozle the buyer into buying the product against their best instincts, because I've convinced them long enough to get their money, they'll be pleasantly surprised to find they've bought something valuable.
I'm counting on that.
Friday, December 27, 2013
Clichés
Shaking the cobwebs of the holiday season and stepping out into the good, D-vitamin possessing light, I recognize I'm free to write.
Hm. On the subject of clichés.
I am a D&D player. I have been one for quite a long time. Most readers of this blog know this.
I do not live in my parents basement. I actually have a rather pleasant downtown residence, with plenty of disposable income and a comfortable lifestyle. I'm not dependent upon my parents in any way. I haven't actually been since I was still in high school. Most of my friends were living away from home by the time they were 20 because they were hard-working fellows attending university and mostly living in apartments they paid for with their part-time income. I have run at public spaces both at game stores and on the local university campus, and of course in the cafeteria during high school ... but in fact the total times I've run in a semi-public place would be about 3% of all my sessions played over 30+ years. If you take out high school, that drops radically, to less than 0.5%. MOST of the running I've done has been in a space I owned, that I paid for, on my table and in my kitchen or living room. The cliché therefore does not apply to me.
I don't particularly like Mountain Dew. Coke, yes, I like the sort of sharp flavour, but most of my actual gaming is done on strong tea or coffee. I tend to eat vegetables, fruit or sandwiches during a game, and not cheezies. I did once, of course, when I was a kid ... but that was also 20-odd years ago and while occasionally some snack like that turns up at the table, I don't eat it. Too salty.
I have never owned a cardboard sword. I have never dressed in any sort of costume to run a game. I don't play creepy music during my games because it is distracting. The lights are usually on, since this makes it easier to see to write. I've never liked the games of people who have dressed up. It seems to be more about them and their ego than it is about the actual game, so that those campaigns are mawkish and pretty ridiculous. Virtually every person I've ever known who has played the game would tend to agree.
I don't know where this thing started about D&D Players having little or no experience with sex. I kissed my first girl at the age of 8; Barbara and I used to hang out on Saturday mornings and watch cartoons. I had dates right through my teen years, and by 17 I was engaged to be married. I'll never forget the girl and I being caught in flagrante by her mother when experimenting with bondage; that would have been the winter of '82. Intercourse has been institutional with me all my life, as it was with the other fellows AND girls who played in my campaign ... very often, with each other. I don't remember anyone playing my game, even in those early days of youth, who had any problem with sex, either the opposite or the same gender. I've had a number of gay men in my campaign, and just now I run two gay women offline. So I don't think this cliché applies to me or anyone I know, either.
The Lord of the Rings made a good movie, but really, the book is overwritten shit. Virtually everyone I've known who's read it tells me they would rather not EVER read it again. It's hard to find a page in the book that isn't a prepositional explosion, the characterizations are wooden and subverted constantly to manage the plot, and there are staggeringly long build-ups of 120 to 150 pages leading to a 2-page dramatic climax. Total number of words to get Sam and Frodo across the plain of Mordor to Mount Doom? About 30,000. Total number of words depicting the actual destruction of the ring? About 625. The book gained its appeal because of a certain association with beatnik politics that was picked up by the drug-addled 60s movement ... and it continues to be worshipped by a sort of fan-boy clique that clearly eschews actual literature. I don't think the book is necessary to the game of D&D, I don't think anyone who has played D&D without having read the book will find themselves playing differently or better if they sit down and plow through its pages. The Lord of the Rings is superfluous. It is dismissible. It has nothing of value to add to the matter of role-playing. The insistence that it does speaks volumes, I think, about the piss-poor worlds being run by these people. As a cliché, it is probably the silliest.
People who make comic videos or who write songs about D&D never seem to know anything about the actual game. This video, for instance, seems to think it's possible to "lend charisma" or that the 12-sided die is important for ... anything. It also seems to think that "rank" or "restrictions" are words that have meaning related to the game. And of course, the figure with the mage hat identifying itself as a "warrior who terrifies" is equally off center. The vid also can't resist a stupid association with summoning demons, which is the trope leveled against D&D by Christians. I'm sorry. Is this a video about D&D, or about everything D&D isn't? Like every media representation of the game, oops, missed again.
Oh, I know, it's supposed to be funny. But 'funny' for me is, like, when you hear something you didn't expect. Clichés aren't funny. Clichés USED to be funny. Now they are just pathetic and sad.
Humour is when you take an ACTUAL thing about the game and demonstrate how that is funny. You make a joke that doesn't leave the listener thinking, "You don't actually play, do you? You're just a dumb musician."
Hm. On the subject of clichés.
I am a D&D player. I have been one for quite a long time. Most readers of this blog know this.
I do not live in my parents basement. I actually have a rather pleasant downtown residence, with plenty of disposable income and a comfortable lifestyle. I'm not dependent upon my parents in any way. I haven't actually been since I was still in high school. Most of my friends were living away from home by the time they were 20 because they were hard-working fellows attending university and mostly living in apartments they paid for with their part-time income. I have run at public spaces both at game stores and on the local university campus, and of course in the cafeteria during high school ... but in fact the total times I've run in a semi-public place would be about 3% of all my sessions played over 30+ years. If you take out high school, that drops radically, to less than 0.5%. MOST of the running I've done has been in a space I owned, that I paid for, on my table and in my kitchen or living room. The cliché therefore does not apply to me.
I don't particularly like Mountain Dew. Coke, yes, I like the sort of sharp flavour, but most of my actual gaming is done on strong tea or coffee. I tend to eat vegetables, fruit or sandwiches during a game, and not cheezies. I did once, of course, when I was a kid ... but that was also 20-odd years ago and while occasionally some snack like that turns up at the table, I don't eat it. Too salty.
I have never owned a cardboard sword. I have never dressed in any sort of costume to run a game. I don't play creepy music during my games because it is distracting. The lights are usually on, since this makes it easier to see to write. I've never liked the games of people who have dressed up. It seems to be more about them and their ego than it is about the actual game, so that those campaigns are mawkish and pretty ridiculous. Virtually every person I've ever known who has played the game would tend to agree.
I don't know where this thing started about D&D Players having little or no experience with sex. I kissed my first girl at the age of 8; Barbara and I used to hang out on Saturday mornings and watch cartoons. I had dates right through my teen years, and by 17 I was engaged to be married. I'll never forget the girl and I being caught in flagrante by her mother when experimenting with bondage; that would have been the winter of '82. Intercourse has been institutional with me all my life, as it was with the other fellows AND girls who played in my campaign ... very often, with each other. I don't remember anyone playing my game, even in those early days of youth, who had any problem with sex, either the opposite or the same gender. I've had a number of gay men in my campaign, and just now I run two gay women offline. So I don't think this cliché applies to me or anyone I know, either.
The Lord of the Rings made a good movie, but really, the book is overwritten shit. Virtually everyone I've known who's read it tells me they would rather not EVER read it again. It's hard to find a page in the book that isn't a prepositional explosion, the characterizations are wooden and subverted constantly to manage the plot, and there are staggeringly long build-ups of 120 to 150 pages leading to a 2-page dramatic climax. Total number of words to get Sam and Frodo across the plain of Mordor to Mount Doom? About 30,000. Total number of words depicting the actual destruction of the ring? About 625. The book gained its appeal because of a certain association with beatnik politics that was picked up by the drug-addled 60s movement ... and it continues to be worshipped by a sort of fan-boy clique that clearly eschews actual literature. I don't think the book is necessary to the game of D&D, I don't think anyone who has played D&D without having read the book will find themselves playing differently or better if they sit down and plow through its pages. The Lord of the Rings is superfluous. It is dismissible. It has nothing of value to add to the matter of role-playing. The insistence that it does speaks volumes, I think, about the piss-poor worlds being run by these people. As a cliché, it is probably the silliest.
People who make comic videos or who write songs about D&D never seem to know anything about the actual game. This video, for instance, seems to think it's possible to "lend charisma" or that the 12-sided die is important for ... anything. It also seems to think that "rank" or "restrictions" are words that have meaning related to the game. And of course, the figure with the mage hat identifying itself as a "warrior who terrifies" is equally off center. The vid also can't resist a stupid association with summoning demons, which is the trope leveled against D&D by Christians. I'm sorry. Is this a video about D&D, or about everything D&D isn't? Like every media representation of the game, oops, missed again.
Oh, I know, it's supposed to be funny. But 'funny' for me is, like, when you hear something you didn't expect. Clichés aren't funny. Clichés USED to be funny. Now they are just pathetic and sad.
Humour is when you take an ACTUAL thing about the game and demonstrate how that is funny. You make a joke that doesn't leave the listener thinking, "You don't actually play, do you? You're just a dumb musician."
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Sorry, No Post Today
It would be lovely if I could squeeze out a post about the unique and varied uses of wands, rods and staves ... but OGLAF has undoubtedly beat me there, as it has beat everyone on the damn planet.
I could probably post about having just discovered OGLAF last night, but of course I can't do that because, well, we have to save face where it comes to these things. It's important to present oneself as knowing everything, of being on top of literally every post in the whole internet, because no one, absolutely no one, could possibly have only discovered this brilliant site just last night.
It's a shame I can't come up with a post. Oh well. It's still a really good picture.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
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