| Unearthed Arcana |
[Aug. 21st, 2011|09:03 pm] |
I played Dungeon Master today for the first time in what must be decades. It was all in service of Queeg and RRP's latest production commissioned by the Flea Theater, conveniently located a few avenues from my place. I say convenient because of all the shit I had to lug: laptop, sourcebooks, miniatures, etc.
For historical flavor I'd been asked to host a 2nd edition AD&D session, which required digging through multiple sourcebooks, rolling six characters and writing down all their info on sheets. Not exactly the worst way to spend a Saturday night/Sunday morning, though after some time all the tables begin to blur and you start to realize just how fucked up some of the rules were (level caps on "demihumans," nerfed wizard classes).
It's a fascinating exercise, watching a band of actors who are complete neophytes stumble through the village portion at the beginning of the adventures. Maybe it's due to their NYC artist backgrounds, but I've never seen a group of players be so tentative with the obligatory "You're in a village" scene. They wouldn't even let a stableboy handle the horses while the party ducked into an inn.
At the finish it was rewarding to see them consider tactics that aren't in any videogame, such as jumping through a stained-glass window. Tabletop role-playing might as well be butter churning in the computer age. |
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| Nups |
[Nov. 8th, 2010|08:20 am] |
Pheel and Jeans threw a lavish meat n' drink extravaganza in lieu of a wedding reception on Saturday. If only all weddings could dispense with the ceremony, cull the annoying relatives and finish with a karaoke dance party.
I thought of a killer speech minutes after we had started to migrate to the next episode. Timing, sir. TIMING. |
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| Found Objects |
[Aug. 24th, 2010|11:25 am] |
JJ and I went to Xi'An Famous Foods on the East Broadway side of Chinatown last night. It's a growing chain that's basically an excuse to dunk lamb meat into chewy noodles and spicy sauce. My delicate Cantonese palate can only stomach the stuff in controlled doses, but man does that hit the spot on a fall-like summer evening.
Afterward we hopped on the F to Observatory, an art space near the Gowanus Canal dedicated to ... the history of the Gowanus Canal. There's also a library dedicated to out-of-print materials that aren't first editions. Plenty of hilarious material. I especially enjoyed the books on ninjitsu, carnivorous dinosaurs, becoming a star soccer player and a random number generator.
We were there to see a presentation on manga kamishibai, a form of picture storytelling that found its zenith in postwar Japan, influencing the career of Osamu Tezuka (who in turn is more or less credited for pioneering much of the modern manga we see today). The author/lecturer brought his own hand-painted "slides" (for reasons unknown, pictures weren't mass-produced), a story about a monkey, a girl and a King Kong-like ape. There was a fight against some samurai. In other words, not much different than your average series in today's Shonen Jump. |
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| Thin Walls |
[Jun. 22nd, 2010|10:35 pm] |
Woke to the sound of manual demolition this morning, workers ripping through old boards, claw hammers pounding at unseen nails. Then I realized the source was next door. When I left for work, the door across the hall (about five feet away, if anything) was open. I peeked inside. It was gutted from ceiling to floor, the odd torn calendar picture on the ground, an old bathtub across the way. That old couple who lived there, no wonder they were so quiet the past week. No coughing from the tuberculotic husband, no Cantonese news on full blast, no smells of soup or frying meats. I fear the worst, that the old man's lungs gave way at last. Where did his wife go? Did they have kids who'd take her in, away from Chinatown? I don't even know how long they've lived there.
I anticipate more noise in the near future as they fix Apartment A up. New neighbors. Not as if I talked to the former tenants ever. Transient lives disappear, evaporate through walls. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 31st, 2010|11:59 am] |
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Team Z made a comment a few nights ago that I seem to define my taste by complaining what I dislike more than talking about what I'm really into. Perhaps that makes me more of a hipster than I thought. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 25th, 2010|02:32 pm] |
I caught "Exit Through the Gift Shop" last night with a friend. It's the story of a French expat Angeleno who took to filming the street artists of the late 90's, including Shepard Fairey, best known for his Obama poster and OBEY stickers, Space Invader, and Banksy. The latter assembled the thousands of tapes into a cohesive narrative as a chronicle of what you could loosely call "the scene" as well as a parable about what happens when inspiring creative impulses take a turn for the worse. I'm not going to ruin the rest for you, but it's hilarious and somewhat sad, though not in a schaudenfreude way (like watching "Birdemic" or "The Room").
The post-show discussion led off with the question of whether I consider myself a hipster, then catapulted into a discussion about everything from Harry Potter and the Twilight series to professional criticism, snobbery, self-censorship ... you know, the everyday things.
My companion threw out the observation that I'm neurotic and how it wasn't worth getting worked up over these issues. The caffeine wasn't helping. |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 1st, 2010|01:09 am] |
I've had a week where my more (passive) aggressively asshole-ish past has caught up with me, encounters with old friends and acquaintances who I haven't seen whether through choice or happenstance. Scratch that. These rifts happened because of a decision, passive or not. Either I made a conscious decision not to pursue certain avenues or plain chicken-shitted my way past. I'm not particularly proud of how some of these things worked out. I'm just glad I have the ability to recognize when I've been a dick.
The making amends part, there's the rub. There are times when it comes across as disingenuous. I swear it's a gene from my Dad's side of the family. Sometimes my effort ends up with both sides feeling even more like shit, and then it's best to muck your cards and walk away from the table. So yeah, build me a time machine so I can punch old me in the face, or by him a drink to steel my heart for the future. |
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| Things I Was *THIS* Close to Saying During Sensitivity Training |
[Mar. 25th, 2010|01:50 am] |
1. "Why yes, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that White Power Bill's racist shouting and cubicle noose constitute a hostile environment."
2. (In response to "Well, what if we said 'We only want white people' in the office?") "Who DOESN'T?" |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 15th, 2010|09:53 pm] |
With officemate Gif's kid on the way and El Jefe Fergie's son developing into a healthy toddler, I brought up the topic of religion. Specifically, home team faith. It was evenly split among the room. I am of the camp that if I were to ever raise a kid that the blood pact with the Seahawks and Mariners is completely voluntary. Expose the child to Daddy's brand of masochism if they like, but enforce that kind of allegiance? Never.
Gif and El Jefe are Phillies fans. There's got to be a way to stop the more fervent one short of calling Child Protection Services. |
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| Beisbol |
[Feb. 15th, 2010|01:34 pm] |
With the new job so sports-oriented there's a high percentage I'd get burnt out, but since we cover so many leagues/conferences I'm more interested in what I liked to begin with (NFL, soccer) and less tolerant of rackets I was skeptical with already (NASCAR, college football). So with pitchers and catchers reporting, I'm in full-on baseball mode. What's really injected the nitrous into my tank are the recent trades/signings of my hometown Mariners club (the Cliff Lee steal, Chone Figgins, even getting Erik Bedard on a coin flip tryout for the latter half of the schedule).
Re-upped with Pangster's fantasy league (barely understood what was going on last year) immediately. Going to purchase the MLB.TV Premium Package as soon as the credit card cycle clears. Even went a little buck-wild at the MLB.com store after discovering an exploit in their Presidents Day Sale (double stacked discount on jerseys and hats, came out to 40%, which takes their MSRP down from "are you out of your fucking mind?" to "that's about as reasonable a shirt with a mercenary's name and number on it should go"). They're en route to Seattle 'cause I'd rather wait for a trip back home than pay any more tax to this shitshow of a state government. Plan on going to a few games during the season. Even preordered a copy of MLB 10: The Show, even though baseball sims are the most exhausting sports titles to play (I have terrible plate discipline).
Granted, I'm not counting on the M's to make the playoffs. It's merely a very intriguing team. It's the best situation as a lifelong fan, in that it's INTERESTING, but I'm under no illusions that they're a favorite. Every win is a win. Now if they managed to inject more power (especially with a left-hander) and got a legitimate third starter, then I'd start to sweat. |
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