today is not for this desk nor the indoors. today is better outside windows down music loud. It seems made for stops at forgotten shops I prowled in my youth. It rings with the call of backwoods roads and driving fast. Cellphone thrown out the window solitude for idle hours. Everything impromptu! Surprise dinner with friends and spur of the moment movies. Youth creeping back in the spine and smiles that come without warning. Bowling alleys and wild Whitesnake songs on the radio. Some night years past recaptured though you weren't even trying. Dark rides home lit up bright by a moon that seems too big for the sky. Calavaras, San Felipe and Hicks all on the same night! Trucks giving chase and drivers with pale skin and eyes. Silly laughing kids caught up with some stupid joke you said, that only you can say right.
Friday, September 21, 2012
Thursday, September 20, 2012
TV review: Hell on Wheels
I have been seeing a bunch of ads for the AMC series Hell on Wheels everywhere. Like everywhere, I sort of thought it was a biker series actually from the name but I finally took a look at the series. I can only speak for the pilot but DAMN! It was crazy violent and not afraid of some gore either.
So far it seems to be the tale of a southerner who lost everything in the war trying to get revenge on the northerners who took it from him. I guess they were a part of Sherman march and basically raped their way through the south. Cullen Bohannon is slowly getting his revenge on them. As several of the union soldiers are now working on the construction of the trans Continental railroad, Cullen also takes a job. So far that is pretty much all I know other than the show takes effort to display violence rather than shy away. It was really quit gripping as the pilot takes you on a hell of a ride.
I have not seen deadwood but I think this is in the same vein. I think fans of Deadwood should probably check it out. As should gamer fans of wild west games. It does a good job showing some of the life associated with the rail. Tent cities that are constantly moving with the construction of the line. So to sum it up wow, pretty gripping very bloody and worth a watch
So far it seems to be the tale of a southerner who lost everything in the war trying to get revenge on the northerners who took it from him. I guess they were a part of Sherman march and basically raped their way through the south. Cullen Bohannon is slowly getting his revenge on them. As several of the union soldiers are now working on the construction of the trans Continental railroad, Cullen also takes a job. So far that is pretty much all I know other than the show takes effort to display violence rather than shy away. It was really quit gripping as the pilot takes you on a hell of a ride.
I have not seen deadwood but I think this is in the same vein. I think fans of Deadwood should probably check it out. As should gamer fans of wild west games. It does a good job showing some of the life associated with the rail. Tent cities that are constantly moving with the construction of the line. So to sum it up wow, pretty gripping very bloody and worth a watch
Krampus for Christmas part 93
For dessert Krampus gathered Halloween pumpkins that were smashed on the road. Leaving them on the window sill until they reeked growing mold. With the mess he baked thanksgiving pies complete with homemade crust and several hundred files. Yams were hand smashed and candied golden brown, soaked in syrup so sweet they were hard to get down. Scalloped corn and stuffing rounded out the meal. Krampus heaped on seconds and thirds with a happy squeal.
Who knows what part kids played in the feast, he may have ground their bones to make the yeast. There was some doubt as it was before the season, but Krampus knew a butcher with meats for every reason.
The day of the feast he caught a little nap. Then waited by the mall and set a little trap. Black Friday shoppers tasted the best; full of thanksgiving dinners from their toes to their chest. They thought of sales, not their kids. They wouldn't mind just a nibble; so he waited and hid.
Krampus was happy with the nights mayhem and crept way; planning more for each of the coming days. It was some days later than Idunn watched and listened on a morning where dew glistened. Down next door the monster hurried about a table; He was preparing a feast fit for a fable. A meal fit for kings and queens back in olden times, again so much food an army could have dined.
There was a bird or rather many, Idunn guested twenty but really only thirty. The beast was turning them into a feast, a roast of birds from times long ceased.Krampus would laugh at a turduken that was only three; he made his tenfold bigger you see. He had an ostrich, an emu, emperor penguin on down the line a pigeon a blue jay with a humming bird finally stuffed it would taste just fine. Idunn thought it smell delicious "Yumming" with a sigh. Krampus even baked on of great grandma's chocolate pies.Idunn wondered where he got the recipe, grandma kept a secret card, but the monster's smelled the same cooling on the table in the yard.
Who knows what part kids played in the feast, he may have ground their bones to make the yeast. There was some doubt as it was before the season, but Krampus knew a butcher with meats for every reason.
The day of the feast he caught a little nap. Then waited by the mall and set a little trap. Black Friday shoppers tasted the best; full of thanksgiving dinners from their toes to their chest. They thought of sales, not their kids. They wouldn't mind just a nibble; so he waited and hid.
Krampus was happy with the nights mayhem and crept way; planning more for each of the coming days. It was some days later than Idunn watched and listened on a morning where dew glistened. Down next door the monster hurried about a table; He was preparing a feast fit for a fable. A meal fit for kings and queens back in olden times, again so much food an army could have dined.
There was a bird or rather many, Idunn guested twenty but really only thirty. The beast was turning them into a feast, a roast of birds from times long ceased.Krampus would laugh at a turduken that was only three; he made his tenfold bigger you see. He had an ostrich, an emu, emperor penguin on down the line a pigeon a blue jay with a humming bird finally stuffed it would taste just fine. Idunn thought it smell delicious "Yumming" with a sigh. Krampus even baked on of great grandma's chocolate pies.Idunn wondered where he got the recipe, grandma kept a secret card, but the monster's smelled the same cooling on the table in the yard.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
De Profundis: an assault
My Fellow Gentlemen
I scan the horizons from the high windows of my estate, waiting. Many hours have passed with my tormentors unseen, though my heart is not set to rest. It was the same some days pasts when my courage returned me, prompting an egress into folly. The horrors which follow are my true testament before man and God.
I left the residence in the hours of wide daylight, hoping the evil I had attracted had forgot or grown bored. This was proven not to be the case, as the assault occurred just a few brisk strides from my doorstep. The expanse of my lawn I had watched for many hours seeing none but the common bird and insect. In caution I proposed a swift search of the land to the fore of my property. I could inspect little more than my juniper and cow lilies before the green nimbus light coalesced before my sight. Turning to escape in fear I was grasped by another. I remember a series of blows following and some words but awoke upon my door; alone.
I can say little other than the words arabesq and strange were uttered by human tongue. My unknown savior is to be thanked but had vanished before the arrival of my faculties.
For now I remained confined and gripped in fear. I remain well hidden with the walls of my estate. I hold few clues of my attackers nor my benefactor. I pray word to expand this story beyond it's timid scope.
Your very truly
J.L. Reichl
I scan the horizons from the high windows of my estate, waiting. Many hours have passed with my tormentors unseen, though my heart is not set to rest. It was the same some days pasts when my courage returned me, prompting an egress into folly. The horrors which follow are my true testament before man and God.
I left the residence in the hours of wide daylight, hoping the evil I had attracted had forgot or grown bored. This was proven not to be the case, as the assault occurred just a few brisk strides from my doorstep. The expanse of my lawn I had watched for many hours seeing none but the common bird and insect. In caution I proposed a swift search of the land to the fore of my property. I could inspect little more than my juniper and cow lilies before the green nimbus light coalesced before my sight. Turning to escape in fear I was grasped by another. I remember a series of blows following and some words but awoke upon my door; alone.
I can say little other than the words arabesq and strange were uttered by human tongue. My unknown savior is to be thanked but had vanished before the arrival of my faculties.
For now I remained confined and gripped in fear. I remain well hidden with the walls of my estate. I hold few clues of my attackers nor my benefactor. I pray word to expand this story beyond it's timid scope.
Your very truly
J.L. Reichl
Krampus for Christmas Part 92
The heartfelt music soothed Krampus on lonely nights. The monster didn't worry and felt everything would be alright. Sometimes he felt he could even take a break his house had been decorated since veterans day for Pete's sake. Some late nights he prowled record shops disguised in a hat and giant coat. Luckily the customers looked mostly the same and even smelled a little of goat. He snapped up Christmas records from country to jazz. He even bought “A Progressive Rock Christmas” with Greg Lake and Patrick Moraz. From John Denver to the muppets his collection was very complete only a dedicated collector could ever compete.
Krampus enjoyed the Siberian metal Christmas and wished he could attend the show, but to that Fresh Aire Christmas flatly said no. He was left lukewarm with saxophone Christmas by Kenny G. The monster had no use for Bocelli. The new sung Christmas records kept less than they missed. A Vince Guaraldi Christmas really put the beast in a Christmas mood. To such pleasant jazzy sounds the monster couldn't menace or brood. Some Canadian had a song about a winters night, that Krampus felt really got the tidings right.
Riding home the station played Christmas too, Oakridge Boys Christmas from 1982. Listening to the music he basked in peace, but soon he would be down to business so he switched on number of the beast.
There was still more work and other holidays would intrude, interrupting Krampus's Christmas season really very rude. Krampus had a bird on thanksgiving a flame broiled and nicely stuffed Tom; Eating it right there with the dog on the lawn. Krampus wasn't too formal with the feast. A ping pong table in the back yard was fine for the beast.
Krampus enjoyed the Siberian metal Christmas and wished he could attend the show, but to that Fresh Aire Christmas flatly said no. He was left lukewarm with saxophone Christmas by Kenny G. The monster had no use for Bocelli. The new sung Christmas records kept less than they missed. A Vince Guaraldi Christmas really put the beast in a Christmas mood. To such pleasant jazzy sounds the monster couldn't menace or brood. Some Canadian had a song about a winters night, that Krampus felt really got the tidings right.
Riding home the station played Christmas too, Oakridge Boys Christmas from 1982. Listening to the music he basked in peace, but soon he would be down to business so he switched on number of the beast.
There was still more work and other holidays would intrude, interrupting Krampus's Christmas season really very rude. Krampus had a bird on thanksgiving a flame broiled and nicely stuffed Tom; Eating it right there with the dog on the lawn. Krampus wasn't too formal with the feast. A ping pong table in the back yard was fine for the beast.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Krampus for Christmas part 91 very few changes made
Krampus remembered a house on the street Seal, decorated everywhere with Christmas Zeal. Christmas filled every little nook, if you wanted tips these folks wrote the book. You couldn't see it all in an evening or season, Christmas spilled out every room no rhyme or reason. The little couple that lived there decked the halls every year, from the fifties until now without fear. They started even before Krampus the old beast, so grand kids saw when they came from back east. There was a tree that magically seemed to snow and a second in the back on the patio. There were so many ornaments extra branches were hung on the walls and more like a sea of stars on the ceiling in the hall.
Some years they turned the garage into a scene, removing the door and making a window of Plexiglas and beams. The little lord Jesus slept in a bed a pump for his breathing a drive stirring his head. All the neighbors would come to see, when Krampus showed up they all turned to flee. The monster just smiled on the couple’s work, thinking next time to hide and lurk. Krampus had watched the couple’s house fill and fill every year until kids were about to spill. Most years the traditions remained the same, though some were already pretty strange. Chop Suey was served for a special treat, odd for a Mexican Irish family to like to eat. One son often cooked eggs pickled in beets; most would have preferred to lick feet.
Krampus would be sad when they were gone, then only a lesser Christmas could be drawn. He would be sad for the Kids who wouldn't get to see. Christmas everywhere; even a Crystal tree. Boys would wonder over a hot wheel covered twig draped with lights, two feet big. For the girls one decked in dolls and merriness everywhere though the halls.
If the monster could save some in his mind maybe it wouldn't be lost ever in time. The beast wished he could save some Christmases that were oh so grand, not to have traditions pass from the land. To someone in the family they may pass the flame but to Krampus taste it would be tame. They would take a tradition or two the rest passing away to the beasts rue. Krampus remembered too many holidays long forgot, none would be remembered and put at the soul of the plot. The monster turned them over in mind, when filled with longing from time to time. Still some new ideas weren't so dark, except for that horrid peppermint bark. Perhaps the couple’s kids would have a grand thought and the spirit of Christmas again would be caught. Krampus felt a ray of hope. Maybe with the loss of the little couple he could cope.
The thoughts were soon cast aside Krampus would play some Christmas carols then he could abide. Mid November some start playing Christmas tunes, but Krampus had been playing them since June. He had vinyl and Cd's and an iPod loaded full of his favorite Christmas songs. Playing carols so early wasn't right but he was happy being wrong.
Some years they turned the garage into a scene, removing the door and making a window of Plexiglas and beams. The little lord Jesus slept in a bed a pump for his breathing a drive stirring his head. All the neighbors would come to see, when Krampus showed up they all turned to flee. The monster just smiled on the couple’s work, thinking next time to hide and lurk. Krampus had watched the couple’s house fill and fill every year until kids were about to spill. Most years the traditions remained the same, though some were already pretty strange. Chop Suey was served for a special treat, odd for a Mexican Irish family to like to eat. One son often cooked eggs pickled in beets; most would have preferred to lick feet.
Krampus would be sad when they were gone, then only a lesser Christmas could be drawn. He would be sad for the Kids who wouldn't get to see. Christmas everywhere; even a Crystal tree. Boys would wonder over a hot wheel covered twig draped with lights, two feet big. For the girls one decked in dolls and merriness everywhere though the halls.
If the monster could save some in his mind maybe it wouldn't be lost ever in time. The beast wished he could save some Christmases that were oh so grand, not to have traditions pass from the land. To someone in the family they may pass the flame but to Krampus taste it would be tame. They would take a tradition or two the rest passing away to the beasts rue. Krampus remembered too many holidays long forgot, none would be remembered and put at the soul of the plot. The monster turned them over in mind, when filled with longing from time to time. Still some new ideas weren't so dark, except for that horrid peppermint bark. Perhaps the couple’s kids would have a grand thought and the spirit of Christmas again would be caught. Krampus felt a ray of hope. Maybe with the loss of the little couple he could cope.
The thoughts were soon cast aside Krampus would play some Christmas carols then he could abide. Mid November some start playing Christmas tunes, but Krampus had been playing them since June. He had vinyl and Cd's and an iPod loaded full of his favorite Christmas songs. Playing carols so early wasn't right but he was happy being wrong.
Pathfinder adventure path skill checks drive Roleplaying from the table
I have probably moaned about this in the past but I am really becoming disenchanted with pathfinder. If you take the game at it's most basic you have something that allows you to play a multitude of characters that fit a variety of settings. But when you start actually playing the adventure paths you are going to find this really hinders you. Just mechanically the numbers don't work very well if you craft a character that is meant to be very deep and has skill which represent a background.
Taking skills and my experience in Kingmaker into account you really need to completely focus entirely on a very few skills if you hope to succeed. I keep seeing target numbers of 25+ being thrown out by the DM. With our level 6 characters we really have to have focused on a class skill or have some related stat that provides pluses here. My cleric is very sporadic with his knowledge Religion skill which is maxed out. I really would have set myself up for failure if I had put skill points elsewhere trying to present a background of skills for my character. This is a problem for me.
My Cleric has a background of someone who has traveled a bit. I would like to have skills that represent basic knowledge of places and geography. But under the pathfinder and therefore D&D system I really can't do that. I need to drop my skill points in a small set of skills if any are going to succeed. I don't want to use these skills for a one of knowledge check for some particular history but rather just a general customs knowledge and some broad navigation skills. This is easy enough to tackle in a skill based game, but becomes a point of difficulty in a level based game like many of the traditional fantasy rpg's.
The difficulty becomes elevated when you get into a skills arms race situation like in D&D pathfinder. character create characters with splashes of a class which allows them to perform as well as a character with the full class in a subset of skills. Then you have the DM ramping up skill checks to challenge the party. Throwing a splash of ranger for tracking on a rogue or bard is a common example of this. The bard now gains a useful skill for their extra skill points and perhaps some extra combat power, so its a pretty big win for them. Now you the DM have a more capable party to deal with and hit them with elevating challenges.
I think the Rolemaster system is the only one I have seen that really does a good job of tackling this problem. Skills have en exponential coast so it just becomes unwise to skill up beyond a particular point. Mathematically you are driven to diversify.
Taking skills and my experience in Kingmaker into account you really need to completely focus entirely on a very few skills if you hope to succeed. I keep seeing target numbers of 25+ being thrown out by the DM. With our level 6 characters we really have to have focused on a class skill or have some related stat that provides pluses here. My cleric is very sporadic with his knowledge Religion skill which is maxed out. I really would have set myself up for failure if I had put skill points elsewhere trying to present a background of skills for my character. This is a problem for me.
My Cleric has a background of someone who has traveled a bit. I would like to have skills that represent basic knowledge of places and geography. But under the pathfinder and therefore D&D system I really can't do that. I need to drop my skill points in a small set of skills if any are going to succeed. I don't want to use these skills for a one of knowledge check for some particular history but rather just a general customs knowledge and some broad navigation skills. This is easy enough to tackle in a skill based game, but becomes a point of difficulty in a level based game like many of the traditional fantasy rpg's.
The difficulty becomes elevated when you get into a skills arms race situation like in D&D pathfinder. character create characters with splashes of a class which allows them to perform as well as a character with the full class in a subset of skills. Then you have the DM ramping up skill checks to challenge the party. Throwing a splash of ranger for tracking on a rogue or bard is a common example of this. The bard now gains a useful skill for their extra skill points and perhaps some extra combat power, so its a pretty big win for them. Now you the DM have a more capable party to deal with and hit them with elevating challenges.
I think the Rolemaster system is the only one I have seen that really does a good job of tackling this problem. Skills have en exponential coast so it just becomes unwise to skill up beyond a particular point. Mathematically you are driven to diversify.
Krampus for Christmas: part 90
Afterwords was the dreary November with days turning short and somber. Few thought of Christmas with and election and Thanksgiving on the way. But Krampus long ago turned his attention to the day. Idunn could see his yard was already merrily dressed. But the monster thought his display was a terrible mess. Some garland the halls when they toss up the tree, others might give a week to adding the house with holiday glee. Krampus had been decorating since before Halloween, Idunn often watch from her window, under blankets, hiding unseen.
Krampus liked to vary each year with different styles and themes. Muted and dull ornaments one year; the next crystal trees that gleam. He could put on a sixties lounge Christmas with glitz and flair, even a sad little forties Christmas when war was in the air. Some years he hung knee hugging little elves. Other years nutcrackers filled the shelves.
Our monster decked his dog house with festive delight, rolling out the holly and electric lights. There was a star and an arrow, gold links garlanded around the tiny house. He even forced Christmas sweaters on a very frightened mouse. Krampus hung wooden ravens all along the door. They were a Christmas tradition from Alaska's chilly shore. Some he carved with his wicked Krampus claws; others were bought online. It was all within the law. Raven represented Jesus to the Tlingit people up north. Through virgin birth Raven stole the sun and for the people brought if forth.
In his house Krampus's manger was set with more Caganers than two; all trying discreetly to take a Christmas poo. One looked like john Lennon another like Peggy lee. He searched without luck for one taking a wee. Christmas Catalogs filled the rest of his tiny shack, ordered chronologically in a massive stack. The monster had Sears wish book from every year, yes he had Montgomery Wards and Penny's you needn't fear. Some had toys circled, he would have liked as a lad; but Krampus never got presents he was Always bad.
Krampus liked to vary each year with different styles and themes. Muted and dull ornaments one year; the next crystal trees that gleam. He could put on a sixties lounge Christmas with glitz and flair, even a sad little forties Christmas when war was in the air. Some years he hung knee hugging little elves. Other years nutcrackers filled the shelves.
Our monster decked his dog house with festive delight, rolling out the holly and electric lights. There was a star and an arrow, gold links garlanded around the tiny house. He even forced Christmas sweaters on a very frightened mouse. Krampus hung wooden ravens all along the door. They were a Christmas tradition from Alaska's chilly shore. Some he carved with his wicked Krampus claws; others were bought online. It was all within the law. Raven represented Jesus to the Tlingit people up north. Through virgin birth Raven stole the sun and for the people brought if forth.
In his house Krampus's manger was set with more Caganers than two; all trying discreetly to take a Christmas poo. One looked like john Lennon another like Peggy lee. He searched without luck for one taking a wee. Christmas Catalogs filled the rest of his tiny shack, ordered chronologically in a massive stack. The monster had Sears wish book from every year, yes he had Montgomery Wards and Penny's you needn't fear. Some had toys circled, he would have liked as a lad; but Krampus never got presents he was Always bad.
Monday, September 17, 2012
De Profundis: I pursue dark alleys
My Fellow Gentlemen
My concern of evenings past has not abated. I find myself confined to my abode, this missive delivered by my gentleman's gentleman Tilkinton. The phantasmagoria written within my previous letter continues. I see their eyes always upon my estate. I can only conjectures what should happen if they accosted my person.
I embark upon a dark journey for my own safety, perhaps in error. I have found myself a babe in the wood; but am determined it will not be so. I continue to pursue dark and dusty tomes, scouring for some sort of aid. Perhaps only an initiate, I find I am drawn in by these works. Often I am devouring the text in long solemn hours. I pray I find some reason to hope in the pages. I fear I am doomed without.
My studies have established a milieu in which I believe both Mr. Yeats and Crowley are working. I believe both are stitched up under the tutelage of Mather. I have writing this name in the past, it weights heavy in my studies. I a lone seeker falter against two both mentored at the apron strings of this Mathers. Odds surly have been stacked against me in this task.
I am confounded by your collective silence, though perhaps I reach to those already under dark sway. I pray for your sound minds and words.
Yours very truly
J.L. Reichl
My concern of evenings past has not abated. I find myself confined to my abode, this missive delivered by my gentleman's gentleman Tilkinton. The phantasmagoria written within my previous letter continues. I see their eyes always upon my estate. I can only conjectures what should happen if they accosted my person.
I embark upon a dark journey for my own safety, perhaps in error. I have found myself a babe in the wood; but am determined it will not be so. I continue to pursue dark and dusty tomes, scouring for some sort of aid. Perhaps only an initiate, I find I am drawn in by these works. Often I am devouring the text in long solemn hours. I pray I find some reason to hope in the pages. I fear I am doomed without.
My studies have established a milieu in which I believe both Mr. Yeats and Crowley are working. I believe both are stitched up under the tutelage of Mather. I have writing this name in the past, it weights heavy in my studies. I a lone seeker falter against two both mentored at the apron strings of this Mathers. Odds surly have been stacked against me in this task.
I am confounded by your collective silence, though perhaps I reach to those already under dark sway. I pray for your sound minds and words.
Yours very truly
J.L. Reichl
Krampus for Christmas part 89
A weird monster who felt Christmas couldn't come too soon. Here at a Halloween party he felt out of tune. To their roaring electric mayhem, Krampus thought of carols and started to hum. For the candy He thought of cookies and asked the barman for eggnog and rum. His friends had had enough of him when he arranged the skeletons into a manger and started treating Krampus like a stranger.Krampus stayed a few hours and would have stayed more, but found himself always inching his way to the door. The party didn't notice Krampus steal away I think they were glad he left anyway. The monster was one too many some had thought, they would see him at Christmas his presence would be sought.
Krampus himself walked deep in Halloween night. After a while of being alone he started to feel alright. He was happy for the moon, leading him home all pink and bright. The monster pasted other monsters haunting all the streets. Many masked from Woolworth other with wholes cut in sheets. These old kids stayed out late prowling for fun, most gave Krampus distance but a few would flat out run.
He wandered not aware where he was going or the night was at end; coming face to face with the sun after turning a dark bend. It was a new day, but one of the dead. New sights and smells filled the monsters head. The monster wandered the small run down shops, a barber and a Baker all painted pink even the sign “Stop”! Krampus looked at the little Catrina's and sugary skulls for the dead. A skull faced server gave kids some swaddled baby bread.
This was a holiday Krampus didn't understand. Songs of Dia de la Muertos were played but an undead mariachi band. Krampus hid ducking down and tucking himself away then creeping back toward home. He wasn't the right sort of monster and shouldn’t be caught alone. Krampus worried El Cucuy was around, if there is one monster then two isn't as crazy as it sounds. The two argued every time they met, about turf is my bet.
Krampus himself walked deep in Halloween night. After a while of being alone he started to feel alright. He was happy for the moon, leading him home all pink and bright. The monster pasted other monsters haunting all the streets. Many masked from Woolworth other with wholes cut in sheets. These old kids stayed out late prowling for fun, most gave Krampus distance but a few would flat out run.
He wandered not aware where he was going or the night was at end; coming face to face with the sun after turning a dark bend. It was a new day, but one of the dead. New sights and smells filled the monsters head. The monster wandered the small run down shops, a barber and a Baker all painted pink even the sign “Stop”! Krampus looked at the little Catrina's and sugary skulls for the dead. A skull faced server gave kids some swaddled baby bread.
This was a holiday Krampus didn't understand. Songs of Dia de la Muertos were played but an undead mariachi band. Krampus hid ducking down and tucking himself away then creeping back toward home. He wasn't the right sort of monster and shouldn’t be caught alone. Krampus worried El Cucuy was around, if there is one monster then two isn't as crazy as it sounds. The two argued every time they met, about turf is my bet.
Friday, September 14, 2012
De Profundis: It proves an unwise purchase
My Fellow Gentlemen
I have arrived at some cosmic error! My purchased stone charm is useless at best and perhaps worse. Again I prowled the lane ways south and eastward of my abode. My hope to again travel unaccosted amongst the denizens I have so often spoken of. My hopes faltered in the passing hours, so I write to you vexed.
I shall not indulge in my preparation but it's safe to assume me armed. I arrived at Mr. Yeats estate deep past the midnight hour as planned. My suspicions of a return of the creatures was proven accurate as I was greeted on far with their malignant green light. My approach again was cautions but less so, as the elder marked stone emboldened my spirit. Fool though I am!
Proposing to meet the horrors headlong I approached the melee holding to the notion that the creatures would not perceive my presence. My initial advance was perhaps unseen or ignored; but slowly I drew their attention. God their eyes!!
Within moments the altercation began to fade from my sight. Of this I took solace! The peace was soon dashed under the feet of the creatures whom originally made not of my presence. Their forms seemed to coalesce again to my vision. Gripped in terror I fled only to be given chase. It is by providence's grace I arrived home safely; though now they are aware. Aware and even playing me visit in the dark hours though I stay well hid.
I plead for your direction my fellows
Yours very truly
J.L. Reichl
I have arrived at some cosmic error! My purchased stone charm is useless at best and perhaps worse. Again I prowled the lane ways south and eastward of my abode. My hope to again travel unaccosted amongst the denizens I have so often spoken of. My hopes faltered in the passing hours, so I write to you vexed.
I shall not indulge in my preparation but it's safe to assume me armed. I arrived at Mr. Yeats estate deep past the midnight hour as planned. My suspicions of a return of the creatures was proven accurate as I was greeted on far with their malignant green light. My approach again was cautions but less so, as the elder marked stone emboldened my spirit. Fool though I am!
Proposing to meet the horrors headlong I approached the melee holding to the notion that the creatures would not perceive my presence. My initial advance was perhaps unseen or ignored; but slowly I drew their attention. God their eyes!!
Within moments the altercation began to fade from my sight. Of this I took solace! The peace was soon dashed under the feet of the creatures whom originally made not of my presence. Their forms seemed to coalesce again to my vision. Gripped in terror I fled only to be given chase. It is by providence's grace I arrived home safely; though now they are aware. Aware and even playing me visit in the dark hours though I stay well hid.
I plead for your direction my fellows
Yours very truly
J.L. Reichl
Krampus for Christmas part 88
All full Krampus slept deep counting reindeer instead of sheep. October was a blur until his work well in hand. Krampus was relieved things were going as planned. Then he took some moments to enjoy the fall knowing it was too early for Santa to call. A sea of leave caught in the air, whipping and whirling dancing without care. Lawns left with a patchwork of leaves others cleared piled to the eves.
Then there were the children prowling the streets all armed with bags of treats. The kids confused Krampus all dressed like someone else, pirates or plumbers or even Celts. One night Krampus saw a little girl dressed like him, she had the horns and hoof but was much too slim. The beast ran away at the doppelgangers sight; imagine a little girl giving a monster such a fright.
But Krampus had more pressing matters at hand, a party to attend. he was a friend of the band. The monster even dressed up in his little lederhosen, them far too tight. The monster though a costume was needed for the night. Upon arriving he found his friends dressed as ghouls toting machetes and instruments cruel. There were too many mummies and a skeleton with wired shut eyes and jaws. Another had no face at all; it was the strangest bunch of monsters you ever saw.
Krampus finally took a seat in the corner near his friend Ed. He was dress in a straight jacket bolts holding down the top of his head. He said Hi and passed the furry Krampus some wine, spiced and mulled, it suited Krampus just fine. They all knew Krampus was a monster of Christmas thinking him weird. But one weirdo was nothing to be feared.
Then there were the children prowling the streets all armed with bags of treats. The kids confused Krampus all dressed like someone else, pirates or plumbers or even Celts. One night Krampus saw a little girl dressed like him, she had the horns and hoof but was much too slim. The beast ran away at the doppelgangers sight; imagine a little girl giving a monster such a fright.
But Krampus had more pressing matters at hand, a party to attend. he was a friend of the band. The monster even dressed up in his little lederhosen, them far too tight. The monster though a costume was needed for the night. Upon arriving he found his friends dressed as ghouls toting machetes and instruments cruel. There were too many mummies and a skeleton with wired shut eyes and jaws. Another had no face at all; it was the strangest bunch of monsters you ever saw.
Krampus finally took a seat in the corner near his friend Ed. He was dress in a straight jacket bolts holding down the top of his head. He said Hi and passed the furry Krampus some wine, spiced and mulled, it suited Krampus just fine. They all knew Krampus was a monster of Christmas thinking him weird. But one weirdo was nothing to be feared.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Krampus for Christmas part 87
The damage done and neighborhood in surmounting terror Krampus was still hungry and realized he had made some sort of error. Sure he has spread fear and reminded everyone of his presence, but his cupboards were bare except for some pheasants. The monster would need to stock up on meat; no restaurants would let Krampus in to eat.
With the chaos sewn Krampus would have to lay low spending time at the Capitol drive in picture show. For Krampus horror movies were a joy except he would have ate up the camping girls and boys. He rooted for Freddy and thought elm streets parents were to blame. For Leatherface and Pin Head it was the same.
A few weeks past until our monster again stalked the streets. Krampus waited until the full moon to hunt his treats. Each full moon had a name in days of yore and October's was for hunters said the lore. High above birds flew south against the moon, but Krampus meat wasn't foul and he would have it soon.
With the chaos sewn Krampus would have to lay low spending time at the Capitol drive in picture show. For Krampus horror movies were a joy except he would have ate up the camping girls and boys. He rooted for Freddy and thought elm streets parents were to blame. For Leatherface and Pin Head it was the same.
A few weeks past until our monster again stalked the streets. Krampus waited until the full moon to hunt his treats. Each full moon had a name in days of yore and October's was for hunters said the lore. High above birds flew south against the moon, but Krampus meat wasn't foul and he would have it soon.
Krampus for Christmas part 86
Krampus hurried on with chores, most of September the best was a whirlwind of Christmas gore. Repainting his several mangers with care the colors well matched and painted with flare. His ornaments were inspected each at least twice; any broken were mended and made to look nice. Idunn only caught glimpse of the monster these first autumn days. Krampus even forgot beer and sausage he was so dedicated to his Christmas ways.
The little girl ,Idunn , still from the window watched. Only hearing the beast when he returned from a hunting trip that was botched. He prowled nightly after fall was here; with this new competition the cats howled in fear. They didn't know Krampus was looking for kids nor Idunn or she might have hid. The monster got the naught list early and needed a bite. No one would miss a kid or two, well maybe the might.
Some evenings later Idunn spied Krampus with his sack. It looked full and something moved in the pack. The monster laughed and lashed the bag with a chain tied to bells. Santa bound Krampus with these chains and one of his spells. Idunn was worried and slunk down to hide but couldn't stop watching no matter how hard she tried.
The little girl ,Idunn , still from the window watched. Only hearing the beast when he returned from a hunting trip that was botched. He prowled nightly after fall was here; with this new competition the cats howled in fear. They didn't know Krampus was looking for kids nor Idunn or she might have hid. The monster got the naught list early and needed a bite. No one would miss a kid or two, well maybe the might.
Some evenings later Idunn spied Krampus with his sack. It looked full and something moved in the pack. The monster laughed and lashed the bag with a chain tied to bells. Santa bound Krampus with these chains and one of his spells. Idunn was worried and slunk down to hide but couldn't stop watching no matter how hard she tried.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
I palindrome I
I saw my twin yesterday walking down the street. he was a heavy guy with my same shoes and jeans. I have the shirt he was wearing in my closet. I guess that isn't such a coincidence considering all fat guys shop at the same big and tall store. His hair was mine from a couple of hears ago before it started thinning, so good on him, but the beard oh god so conventional nothing like my triple horseshoe.
It was striking really, why was he/I walking? I mean we are lazy we don't walk, what the fuck? Don't you have a car, we love driving around don't you remember. Are you even listening to metal in those head phones you fuck why are you walking so serene we aren't serene.
I just wanted to role down the window and say, "it doesn't get much better?" but what if he is the happy version of us oh my god! Is that even possible? Does he feel connected to people and act gregariously. Its like there is a wrong version of me living just down the street. What am I going to do. I don't know if this town is big enough for me and happy fucking Jim.
It was striking really, why was he/I walking? I mean we are lazy we don't walk, what the fuck? Don't you have a car, we love driving around don't you remember. Are you even listening to metal in those head phones you fuck why are you walking so serene we aren't serene.
I just wanted to role down the window and say, "it doesn't get much better?" but what if he is the happy version of us oh my god! Is that even possible? Does he feel connected to people and act gregariously. Its like there is a wrong version of me living just down the street. What am I going to do. I don't know if this town is big enough for me and happy fucking Jim.
De Profundis: a curious shoppe
My Fellow Gentlemen
The unpleasantness of evenings past still weighs heavy upon my mind. I find myself a naked babe in a world of wolves that stalks about the edges of perception. With some direction from out esteemed fellows I have located a curious shoppe in an unsavory district of the city. Most of the wares appeared to be the shoddy export of some foreign land, though one item spoke to me.
A simple stone with an elder mark of a star. The shop keep reported its origin one of the islands of Ponape. The item have returned with a merchant sailor through Dunedin and finally across the pacific to a western port. The inscribed star whilst painstakingly carved appears haphazard and fluid. This mark circles a burning eye in green flame. I pray it holds some power to hold back this madness.
I now dwell in fear, my night time strolling ceased. I hope to enbiggen my courage and return to you with further words for this tale.
Yours very Truly
J.L. Reichl
The unpleasantness of evenings past still weighs heavy upon my mind. I find myself a naked babe in a world of wolves that stalks about the edges of perception. With some direction from out esteemed fellows I have located a curious shoppe in an unsavory district of the city. Most of the wares appeared to be the shoddy export of some foreign land, though one item spoke to me.
A simple stone with an elder mark of a star. The shop keep reported its origin one of the islands of Ponape. The item have returned with a merchant sailor through Dunedin and finally across the pacific to a western port. The inscribed star whilst painstakingly carved appears haphazard and fluid. This mark circles a burning eye in green flame. I pray it holds some power to hold back this madness.
I now dwell in fear, my night time strolling ceased. I hope to enbiggen my courage and return to you with further words for this tale.
Yours very Truly
J.L. Reichl
Krampus for Christmas: Part 85
Even though it was still early, Krampus considered the date and was worried. For the monster Christmas loomed even though Oktoberfest arrive more soon. For Krampus these others holidays just got in the way. The monster had to celebrate three versions of Thanksgiving Day. One for the Canadians and two for the Yanks. Back in the forties Republicans and Democrats each had a day to give thanks.
But for now it was September and Krampus worried about a tree. He liked to cut his own though they came with spiders and fleas. By now he had his light untied and untangled, checking each bulb to make sure none were mangled. The garland looked nice and angel hair was neatly arranged. Such care from a monster was pretty strange.
Krampus's supply of switches had grown rather low, last year the naughty list saw a lot of flow. He would need more and to mend his sack, one kid tore a hole while struggling on Krampus's back. He almost got away, but ended up in the stew. All the bad kids end up there, be good or you will too.
But for now it was September and Krampus worried about a tree. He liked to cut his own though they came with spiders and fleas. By now he had his light untied and untangled, checking each bulb to make sure none were mangled. The garland looked nice and angel hair was neatly arranged. Such care from a monster was pretty strange.
Krampus's supply of switches had grown rather low, last year the naughty list saw a lot of flow. He would need more and to mend his sack, one kid tore a hole while struggling on Krampus's back. He almost got away, but ended up in the stew. All the bad kids end up there, be good or you will too.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Krampus for Christmas: Part 84
On Labor Day just before the start of school Idunn was surprised the beast wasn't in his pool. Krampus flame broiled burgers like a king, he also made hotdogs and sausage all sorts of things. Krampus and the dog would have quite a feast, with left overs and seconds even if he ate like a beast. His grill glowing Krampus cooked unaware, but slowly the monster noticed a change in the air. From the high branches a tree cast of a leaf, seeing it caused Krampus grief. The monster left his grill glowing bright and was hidden in the garage the rest of the night.
Krampus searched through boxes hidden from Idunn's eye. He looked for garland and lights sometimes muttering with curses and cries. Untangled strands was difficult with his claws. Krampus hoped the dog would have better luck with it's paws. Krampus's monstrous hands weren't made for that sort of task. What sort of monster is this I bet your going to ask.
Krampus is the Christmas monster or demon depending to whom you speak. Horned and hoofed and kids are the dinner he seeks. You see Santa keeps his gloves clean where the naughty list is concerned. Krampus dolls out the punishment bad kids have earned. But Krampus loved Christmas and was full of it's cheer, even on arbor day, all of the year.
Krampus searched through boxes hidden from Idunn's eye. He looked for garland and lights sometimes muttering with curses and cries. Untangled strands was difficult with his claws. Krampus hoped the dog would have better luck with it's paws. Krampus's monstrous hands weren't made for that sort of task. What sort of monster is this I bet your going to ask.
Krampus is the Christmas monster or demon depending to whom you speak. Horned and hoofed and kids are the dinner he seeks. You see Santa keeps his gloves clean where the naughty list is concerned. Krampus dolls out the punishment bad kids have earned. But Krampus loved Christmas and was full of it's cheer, even on arbor day, all of the year.
Monday, September 10, 2012
6 Player Board and War Games Suggested to my gaming group
Having asked the question to friends and even a message board I wanted to ask here. What are some good board and minis games for 6 players. Really we may even need some seve player games. but for now I wanted to list some of the replies. This is for my circle of friends but also anyone looking for larger games.
Our original idea was something not role playing that was easy and had miniatures. Ideally we were looking for something that allow for players to get a taste of miniatures as well as boardgames. Here are some of the more recommended games.
Zombicide. I guess this comes from a kick starter but here is the URL for the site and I think you can buy it now. I am not sure! Also in this genre is Last Night on Earth which had a runner up vote. http://guillotinegames.com/en/
Wiz War: This is a classic old game that actually used to be played with a live dungeon back in the old convention days. http://fantasyflightgames.com/edge_minisite.asp?eidm=177
Descent: This and another game called Super Dungeon Explore were recommended several times. I am not sure i am actually leaning to the dungeon explore game but we will see. http://fantasyflightgames.com/edge_minisite.asp?eidm=176
Battletech: This venerable game got several mentions from the board. I think it may work as several players had tried the old game. I am not sure I remember it as being very random with weapons caches exploding and deciding the game. http://www.catalystgamelabs.com/battletech/
Frag! Steve Jackson's Games semi war game was also mentioned a bit. http://www.sjgames.com/frag/img/frag_set_up.jpg
Infinity: Corvus Belli's miniatures game was mentioned as something we might try out as well. http://www.infinitythegame.com/infinity/en/
Our original idea was something not role playing that was easy and had miniatures. Ideally we were looking for something that allow for players to get a taste of miniatures as well as boardgames. Here are some of the more recommended games.
Zombicide. I guess this comes from a kick starter but here is the URL for the site and I think you can buy it now. I am not sure! Also in this genre is Last Night on Earth which had a runner up vote. http://guillotinegames.com/en/
Wiz War: This is a classic old game that actually used to be played with a live dungeon back in the old convention days. http://fantasyflightgames.com/edge_minisite.asp?eidm=177
Descent: This and another game called Super Dungeon Explore were recommended several times. I am not sure i am actually leaning to the dungeon explore game but we will see. http://fantasyflightgames.com/edge_minisite.asp?eidm=176
Battletech: This venerable game got several mentions from the board. I think it may work as several players had tried the old game. I am not sure I remember it as being very random with weapons caches exploding and deciding the game. http://www.catalystgamelabs.com/battletech/
Frag! Steve Jackson's Games semi war game was also mentioned a bit. http://www.sjgames.com/frag/img/frag_set_up.jpg
Infinity: Corvus Belli's miniatures game was mentioned as something we might try out as well. http://www.infinitythegame.com/infinity/en/
Looking for the kid friendly Halloween of my youth
The good folks over at Plaidstallions.com have a nice picture that I am posting that shows just what I am looking for. These lame skeletons, witches and cats are just the thing to not scare my daughter but introduce the season in a fun non dangerous way. Our walk through Spirit the other day introduced many questions about why is that baby eating his foot and why is that one stabbing his bear. I told here their teeth were caused by the tooth disease gingivitis and that they didn't brush enough. She is super into brushing now!
Its odd how Halloween is not the same. For my friends and I Halloween came in boxed costumes with smocks and plastic masks, which I have written about before. Make up was always around from crappy vampire and Frankenstein kits to the crazy Dick Smith creatures. Masks were probably the closest one could come to an expensive costume, some were over a hundred dollars which was like a million to kids in my neighborhood.
Now its almost rare to see a good selection of masks and no one sells the plastic ones on the string like we had. What I see everywhere are these introduction to being a hooker costumes. Seriously even the six year old girls are getting short skirts and leggings. These a full on slutted up by high school. I worry for the next few years with my kid. Sadly you can't even steer them down the nerd route as the anime cos play is as bad or worse.
Sort of sad how the holiday has taken a turn. I understand it started as an adult holiday but it seems like there should be a place for both innocence and the exotic erotic ball or whatever it was being advertised on the freeway.
Krampus for Christmas: Part 83
Then he would hear a dry leaf scratch cross the street and would check the date even in the summer heat.
Other days he would lounge in a little kiddie pool. Drinking a Slurpee and trying to keep cool. But a calendar was always at hand, the monster circled dates and planned and planned. Some of his schemes centered on candy corn; others on pumpkin doughnut, without them he would be forlorn. Seldom was there a day the monster didn't have something planned. Autumn for Krampus was shaping up to be grand.
And Idunn watched from her window spying on the dates. Hoping for to understand the monster who lived over the gate. She thought it was strange her friends didn't have a neighbor like "Him". She often wondered if he needed a friend. He had the neighbors dog whom he treated well, but if they were friends it was really hard to tell. The dog sleep inside lying on the couch while the monster slept in a tiny dog house his feet sticking out.
Now I said feet but that's not really true. He only had one foot not so many as two. The other was a hoof that clopped on the ground. It would keep you up at night when Krampus walked around. But as Idunn watch the monster never did anything mean. He was well groomed and even kept his claws manicured and clean.
Other days he would lounge in a little kiddie pool. Drinking a Slurpee and trying to keep cool. But a calendar was always at hand, the monster circled dates and planned and planned. Some of his schemes centered on candy corn; others on pumpkin doughnut, without them he would be forlorn. Seldom was there a day the monster didn't have something planned. Autumn for Krampus was shaping up to be grand.
And Idunn watched from her window spying on the dates. Hoping for to understand the monster who lived over the gate. She thought it was strange her friends didn't have a neighbor like "Him". She often wondered if he needed a friend. He had the neighbors dog whom he treated well, but if they were friends it was really hard to tell. The dog sleep inside lying on the couch while the monster slept in a tiny dog house his feet sticking out.
Now I said feet but that's not really true. He only had one foot not so many as two. The other was a hoof that clopped on the ground. It would keep you up at night when Krampus walked around. But as Idunn watch the monster never did anything mean. He was well groomed and even kept his claws manicured and clean.
Friday, September 07, 2012
de profundis: the battle beyond
My Fellow Gentlemen
More of my nocturnal jaunts and the feeling of wild ether frolics. I claim there is some elevating madness in the endeavor for something must be driving beyond common sense. Some nights hence I traveled the lane ways that divide my residence with those of Mr. Yeats abode. This serves as a testimony of the transpired events. True as the Lord witnesses.
I found myself ill prepared for sleep after late hours in my ledgers and again walked. My travels wild and far eventually arrived near the residency of Mr. Yeats. Though it is perhaps a wintering home used only to hide from foul weather at his more common reside. Mr. Yeats presence at the address is not in question as he is often sited in the privileged company of local gentry. I approached well into the eve , which is to say much later than my past journeys. I could see this strange green hued illumination from afar, my approach meandering through alleys and side streets. It was not until finally rounding a final corner that I would see fully unimpeded.
Creature incomparable with those of natural philosophy gripped in combat tussled about the street. Some wild and daemonic others perhaps mimicked the rudimentary life seen under a microscope all fought. Their appeared to be two distinct camps, though I know this through action not their individual aspect. Some battered and charged at Mr. Yeats abode, whilst others seemed to protect it. I can not say how long this battle had been waged but it proceeded some minutes. No single combatant paid me attention and after time the melee began to fade from my sight. Even though I watched with intent it faded and faded. Soon there was but a street to see. I wondered if my mind had soured within my skull at first, though their were again signs of the morass upon Mr. Yeats stone work.
I am assured now to say these powers are beyond me. I beseech you for word and wisdom.
Yours very truly
J.L. Reich
More of my nocturnal jaunts and the feeling of wild ether frolics. I claim there is some elevating madness in the endeavor for something must be driving beyond common sense. Some nights hence I traveled the lane ways that divide my residence with those of Mr. Yeats abode. This serves as a testimony of the transpired events. True as the Lord witnesses.
I found myself ill prepared for sleep after late hours in my ledgers and again walked. My travels wild and far eventually arrived near the residency of Mr. Yeats. Though it is perhaps a wintering home used only to hide from foul weather at his more common reside. Mr. Yeats presence at the address is not in question as he is often sited in the privileged company of local gentry. I approached well into the eve , which is to say much later than my past journeys. I could see this strange green hued illumination from afar, my approach meandering through alleys and side streets. It was not until finally rounding a final corner that I would see fully unimpeded.
Creature incomparable with those of natural philosophy gripped in combat tussled about the street. Some wild and daemonic others perhaps mimicked the rudimentary life seen under a microscope all fought. Their appeared to be two distinct camps, though I know this through action not their individual aspect. Some battered and charged at Mr. Yeats abode, whilst others seemed to protect it. I can not say how long this battle had been waged but it proceeded some minutes. No single combatant paid me attention and after time the melee began to fade from my sight. Even though I watched with intent it faded and faded. Soon there was but a street to see. I wondered if my mind had soured within my skull at first, though their were again signs of the morass upon Mr. Yeats stone work.
I am assured now to say these powers are beyond me. I beseech you for word and wisdom.
Yours very truly
J.L. Reich
Thursday, September 06, 2012
Krampus for Christmas part 82
Summer was Krampus' Slow time, with hibernation and the odd vacation lined up for the brute. Sometimes he hid out in the Matterhorn when he traveled to the south. Snarling at the bob sleds and trying to scoop kids into his mouth. Disneyland didn't care for monsters though he was a careful guest. But after a night with Cinderellas sister he thought leaving was for the best. Besides the weather didn't suit his fluff, he almost shaved himself to be cooler in the buff.
Far north the climate was better for a beast such as he, The Bay was nicer even cold in Carmel by the sea. There he frolicked with the walrus beneath a sea of green. People wondered if it was an elephant seal they had seen. Still Krampus didn't stay long always worrying it was getting late. If he missed a minute of Christmas the monster would be irate.
Most days he spent at home in the yard. So Idunn could easily see him, spying wasn't very hard. He was taller than the fences and his horns towered more. Sometimes he worked on an old Plymouth from late 66, something was always broken that the beast needed to fix.
Far north the climate was better for a beast such as he, The Bay was nicer even cold in Carmel by the sea. There he frolicked with the walrus beneath a sea of green. People wondered if it was an elephant seal they had seen. Still Krampus didn't stay long always worrying it was getting late. If he missed a minute of Christmas the monster would be irate.
Most days he spent at home in the yard. So Idunn could easily see him, spying wasn't very hard. He was taller than the fences and his horns towered more. Sometimes he worked on an old Plymouth from late 66, something was always broken that the beast needed to fix.
The muse returns to mind
The mind and dreams return to their wanting, on these later days of the year. As if roused and rounded up by a memory of school and it's worrisome start. Through all that comes an end and the last days here. The flight of wild wonder for fairer shores. Amid this moldering the melancholia creeps and I remember you. My need and myself.
Broken free of the wider ordering understanding these months ride mutable and grey. Casting of it's mantle of beauty for one of discord and decay even the land wanders in change. All Autumn colors and doubt fill us through and through. Leaving me alone but for wishing for you.
In this I dream myself Aloysius and you Nicene my queen, but then I realize somethings amiss and the tale finally begins. I am lost from the beginning struggling for a connection to you. Lashing out like a hurt animal that doesn't know what to do. Here I am only a man or rather only the man I am. Then there is some quest that is transformative and I'm able to speak to you. But the truth is there is no journey that will fix my failing like that. No growth is slow and I am a lazy sod reaching far beyond my grasp.
Broken free of the wider ordering understanding these months ride mutable and grey. Casting of it's mantle of beauty for one of discord and decay even the land wanders in change. All Autumn colors and doubt fill us through and through. Leaving me alone but for wishing for you.
In this I dream myself Aloysius and you Nicene my queen, but then I realize somethings amiss and the tale finally begins. I am lost from the beginning struggling for a connection to you. Lashing out like a hurt animal that doesn't know what to do. Here I am only a man or rather only the man I am. Then there is some quest that is transformative and I'm able to speak to you. But the truth is there is no journey that will fix my failing like that. No growth is slow and I am a lazy sod reaching far beyond my grasp.
Wednesday, September 05, 2012
De Profundis: A missive of insights
My Fellow Gentlemen
We arrive at a juncture seldom crossed. The wise and fearing man would turn his back on these matters, casting off further thoughts as a fever of the mind. I now count myself a fool as I only hesitate moments and proceed. Straying from the narrow way for the wilds of a world marred by new horizons. Horizons painted beyond the old with elder colors the eye has forgot to see.
If you will forgive mine absence, I have labored in books of research. I have acquired a small trove of tomes in the past weeks. Many proved fruitless and in a word falderal, if you will forgive my vulgarity. But some few provides fragments of truth awash in balderdash. It was not until receiving a wire from Mr. Rast that measured progress was made. This letter included a series of names and marks of entitlement related to The Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn.
We find this cabal links W.B. Yeats and A. Crowly. Further still presses another name Samual Liddell M. Mathers. The purported translator and supposed author of the lesser Key of Solomon. Again I must thank Mr. Rast for his inquiry and information. I would surely have been lost.
I question if I have not found myself between a matter of greater minds. Some conflict not understood by those holding powers beyond the mundane.
Please friends Advise my future safety
J.L. Reichl
We arrive at a juncture seldom crossed. The wise and fearing man would turn his back on these matters, casting off further thoughts as a fever of the mind. I now count myself a fool as I only hesitate moments and proceed. Straying from the narrow way for the wilds of a world marred by new horizons. Horizons painted beyond the old with elder colors the eye has forgot to see.
If you will forgive mine absence, I have labored in books of research. I have acquired a small trove of tomes in the past weeks. Many proved fruitless and in a word falderal, if you will forgive my vulgarity. But some few provides fragments of truth awash in balderdash. It was not until receiving a wire from Mr. Rast that measured progress was made. This letter included a series of names and marks of entitlement related to The Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn.
We find this cabal links W.B. Yeats and A. Crowly. Further still presses another name Samual Liddell M. Mathers. The purported translator and supposed author of the lesser Key of Solomon. Again I must thank Mr. Rast for his inquiry and information. I would surely have been lost.
I question if I have not found myself between a matter of greater minds. Some conflict not understood by those holding powers beyond the mundane.
Please friends Advise my future safety
J.L. Reichl
Tuesday, September 04, 2012
Music Review: The Darkness - Hot Cakes
The record is good if a bit jumpy, which i guess is consistent with the rest of The Darkness records. You hear some stuff like Keep me hangin on and with a woman that seem less influenced by hard rock and an more Brit rock which is new. I find myself gravitating to the harder tracks.
Every Inch of you sort of fits its video, sort of strut and strip. I don't know this is not my favorite on the record. It does keep the rock sound going which is good.
Nothin's Gonna Stop Us is the first single so I guess its the one people will know. I like the Hawk the slayer quote and video, feels nice and dungeons and dragonsly lame. It's funny how lyrically American this one comes off.
Living Each day blind is sort of a nice lets get out of here song. It's almost a bit of a ballad but not quit. Good song one of the ones I find myself listening to again and again.
Everybody have a good time is funny as it starts with a riff almost reminiscent of Heaven and Hell and goes out like Nazareth's Holiday. I like the song its fun and again you almost get an idea if the dungeons and dragons is your idea of having a good time that The Darkness have the books set up at the kitchen table for you.
Street Spirit is a rocker. This along with the Stone Gods record show that The Darkness could flirt more with metal. It has great punctuating metal shouts. Great for a radio song to be turned so aggressive.
All and all a good record. It is less slick and manicured their their previous outing, but good. There are a lot of riffs and tones that hint at older rock and glam metal acts. Everybody have a good time has hints of Sweet. There are bits of LA Glam metal here and there in the riffs.
A poem about South San Jose at Night
these last gasps of summer breath
into sprinkler irrigated night
ersatz petichor for the passerby
whose cadence is slow and aware
prescience of the impending autumn
ripening between sun and treetop
threatening change but left unsaid
hinting wonders hiding the profane
South valley garlic and fires
Hint in deeper bursts of air
stirred Southwest lowers to land
Falling instants remembers to fly
wagering seasons we cant get back
But come with worry to be the last
into sprinkler irrigated night
ersatz petichor for the passerby
whose cadence is slow and aware
prescience of the impending autumn
ripening between sun and treetop
threatening change but left unsaid
hinting wonders hiding the profane
South valley garlic and fires
Hint in deeper bursts of air
stirred Southwest lowers to land
Falling instants remembers to fly
wagering seasons we cant get back
But come with worry to be the last
Friday, August 31, 2012
Morning with Keri, paul celan inspired
Night dissolves into
the imagined ichors of morning
on a sunny southern day
fraught with sleet and snow.
Lying there too long
though filling with awareness
of time and eye side
wanting me to wake.
needing like see for shore
jumping seething wriggling
a wide awake I don't
even remember remembering
Empty belly demands
Not wanted when finally met
bounding shouting chaos
when the hour is young
the imagined ichors of morning
on a sunny southern day
fraught with sleet and snow.
Lying there too long
though filling with awareness
of time and eye side
wanting me to wake.
needing like see for shore
jumping seething wriggling
a wide awake I don't
even remember remembering
Empty belly demands
Not wanted when finally met
bounding shouting chaos
when the hour is young
I am no messanger
I find myself at a loss. The world I arrive at today is not to my tastes and the one I would want is to no one Else's. I see us moving to this guiltless society of self interest. Hungry and greedy we accept ideas that render us a machine of selfish genes, so we are no longer culpable. We slowly turn anyone who stands up and says no into a bigot or fool. Even if they do its slander or lies and all our laws protect us from someone who would speak out with justice. Our laws and justice sit in opposition we have come so far. This would drives around childish wants that look only to the outside. There is no inner no silent no North. There is no stoic. Be strong and useful, generous and committed. Intractable in loyalty when it is earned and met out evil with a just hand. No longer stand but push back and when they tell how you have been wrong say we are not that anymore. Don't let your words be the wind through straw and burlap, shout them out loud.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
I wanted to write a cheese metal song ala 80's thrash
I have been listening to The Darkness and was inspired. I wanted to just do something goofy like they do so i took the Hicks Road idea and worked it into this. It's a goofy metal song sort of thrash meets weird al covering thrash. Hope you find it fun!
Diving on a school night
Away form the city lights
One lane bridge to the farm
They want to do you harm
Moonlight on milk white skin
troubles about to begin
broken chain watching eyes
No one hears your cries
Hicks road running red
bone white Satan's word
Dark rites raise the dead
horror soon be heard
ride ever faster
got to get away
Pale haunting laughter
They want you to stay
ride ever faster
got to get away
Pale haunting laughter
They want you to stay
Now your running blind
Not one of our kind
Were going to find you
Nothing you can do
Hicks road running red
bone white Satan's word
Dark rites raise the dead
horror soon be heard
ride ever faster
got to get away
Pale haunting laughter
They want you to stay
Diving on a school night
Away form the city lights
One lane bridge to the farm
They want to do you harm
Moonlight on milk white skin
troubles about to begin
broken chain watching eyes
No one hears your cries
Hicks road running red
bone white Satan's word
Dark rites raise the dead
horror soon be heard
ride ever faster
got to get away
Pale haunting laughter
They want you to stay
ride ever faster
got to get away
Pale haunting laughter
They want you to stay
Now your running blind
Not one of our kind
Were going to find you
Nothing you can do
Hicks road running red
bone white Satan's word
Dark rites raise the dead
horror soon be heard
ride ever faster
got to get away
Pale haunting laughter
They want you to stay
De Profundis: An alarmed letter
My Fellow Gentlemen
The host is not bound to confines, as I had hoped. I had the presumption the creatures would remain at bay, held to the park as if some darkly consecrated patch of land. This foolish believe remained a hobgoblin of the mind until the night last. Fear my fellows the horde is unbound.
Mayhaps these events will jar your pen from silence. I am unversed as to those called "The Elder Ones" though I fear some strange dwellers of the greensward hold them in sway. My God what is a simple man to make of this. Heaven on high opens and wheels above to strip the mind with any mantle of the sane. What protection and firth can be sought.
Then there is this name Crowley, I fear this name too. Assuredly it will be found on the roosters of the eastern temple and under a dark number.
Yours very Truly
J.L. Reichl
The host is not bound to confines, as I had hoped. I had the presumption the creatures would remain at bay, held to the park as if some darkly consecrated patch of land. This foolish believe remained a hobgoblin of the mind until the night last. Fear my fellows the horde is unbound.
Mayhaps these events will jar your pen from silence. I am unversed as to those called "The Elder Ones" though I fear some strange dwellers of the greensward hold them in sway. My God what is a simple man to make of this. Heaven on high opens and wheels above to strip the mind with any mantle of the sane. What protection and firth can be sought.
Then there is this name Crowley, I fear this name too. Assuredly it will be found on the roosters of the eastern temple and under a dark number.
Yours very Truly
J.L. Reichl
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Commuity leaf pile
From there people could just run through it. I am figuring it would be fun for my kid but it probably would attract those horrible hipster people. Ugh that could be worse than lacing the leaf pile with dog crap.I will have to think of some way to be very authentic, that is the bane of those people.
Through comments could you give me a little sign if you would be up for something like this. It would be in San Jose somewhere in the South if it happens. But I would really need leaves like 300 cubic yards or so. How would November 17th at noon strike you. Maybe at Carra Belle park.
poem for a silent car ride
See the sand swirl
across the barbwire
And the almond trees
fanning like a swarm
you give me isolation
words are never born
Just road and quiet
lies between two forms
Cast the moon skyward
hung low and stillborn
Cold creeps in windows
Sun gleaming dies to mourn
Please break this silence
words drown as they form
bridge your precipice
Satin your words warm
across the barbwire
And the almond trees
fanning like a swarm
you give me isolation
words are never born
Just road and quiet
lies between two forms
Cast the moon skyward
hung low and stillborn
Cold creeps in windows
Sun gleaming dies to mourn
Please break this silence
words drown as they form
bridge your precipice
Satin your words warm
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Growing on me
Have you ever seen something right down to its soul and thought I don't need that? That is the renunciation people are talking about. It doesn't happen when you think I don't need stuff but some people will try to tell you that is the way. It's when you look at something and understand it and yourself. You look at the thing and feel no I don't want to be the sort person who is of it. I don't want a telescope as I am not an astronomer or I don't want drum I am not a musician. This is parity of knowledge. Knowledge of self and knowledge or the item. Let me ask how you are going to understand self and outside connections without feeling those connections to begin with. Then go beyond and figure out what you want to be, I bet you should get the tools of that job or hobby. Materialism is not bad if you understand yourself and what you mean to do with these things.
De Profundis: Professor Cornelius R. Woest letter and a responce
My Fellow Gentlemen
This message comes with a reassurance of my senses, for that my deepest thanks to you Professor Woest. Presently my mind wheels with the possibility of the truth in all this and shudder. My tale is not madness but a keen series of observations of the extra physical properties of this world around us. A world which now flaunts its eldritch ichor much like a cheap harlot in the wanton districts of the city.
Emboldened though, I begin a tale of truth that will seem a tale of wild fiction. For even without the kind Professors missive I again prowled the darker wolds and copse that bespeckled the park. Last eve I strolled out of my residence with the sunset but did not return until well after the middling hour of the evening. Herein I recount what transpired.
Far I wandered last eve hoping to find some sheltered blind that one could well observe the vastness of the southern park. My sojourn not in vain I found a depressed crag at the apex of a rise that was discrete. From my vantage I could well apprehend much of the green way and expanse. I tucked with my hide hold shortly after darkness set in and waited.
The weather fair and many of the grassy denizens served as company, it was not unpleasant. The nocturnal bowing of insects a gentle hum to while away the hours. My revery was soon interrupted by lights. Somewhere far off figures prowled unknowing of their exact presence I would guess them somewhere in the local of the copse of trees I have described previously. From this location words of incantation arose and with time the green fire. I can say little of the composition but this emerald flame clutched at the very soul of me. It lined and illuminated creatures that should not be; a horde or host of them. And they marched in the direction of Yeats abode.
Needless to mention my fear I waited some time until safety permitted a withdraw. In these dark hours of the night I again saw or rather heard these figures. From them a single word or rather name. Crowley.
Here I am again mystified my friends, perhaps one of you will have words for me.
Your restored servant
J.L. Reichl
This message comes with a reassurance of my senses, for that my deepest thanks to you Professor Woest. Presently my mind wheels with the possibility of the truth in all this and shudder. My tale is not madness but a keen series of observations of the extra physical properties of this world around us. A world which now flaunts its eldritch ichor much like a cheap harlot in the wanton districts of the city.
Emboldened though, I begin a tale of truth that will seem a tale of wild fiction. For even without the kind Professors missive I again prowled the darker wolds and copse that bespeckled the park. Last eve I strolled out of my residence with the sunset but did not return until well after the middling hour of the evening. Herein I recount what transpired.
Far I wandered last eve hoping to find some sheltered blind that one could well observe the vastness of the southern park. My sojourn not in vain I found a depressed crag at the apex of a rise that was discrete. From my vantage I could well apprehend much of the green way and expanse. I tucked with my hide hold shortly after darkness set in and waited.
The weather fair and many of the grassy denizens served as company, it was not unpleasant. The nocturnal bowing of insects a gentle hum to while away the hours. My revery was soon interrupted by lights. Somewhere far off figures prowled unknowing of their exact presence I would guess them somewhere in the local of the copse of trees I have described previously. From this location words of incantation arose and with time the green fire. I can say little of the composition but this emerald flame clutched at the very soul of me. It lined and illuminated creatures that should not be; a horde or host of them. And they marched in the direction of Yeats abode.
Needless to mention my fear I waited some time until safety permitted a withdraw. In these dark hours of the night I again saw or rather heard these figures. From them a single word or rather name. Crowley.
Here I am again mystified my friends, perhaps one of you will have words for me.
Your restored servant
J.L. Reichl
Dear Sirs,
My deepest apologies accompany my
sincerest greetings, as my travels had taken me afar from the civilized
world of writ and epistle. My current research into matters of
the phantasmagorical, took me deep within the darkness of an angry
jungle, and it was there I took company with the Congolese natives, a
people whose roots are well remembered, and connected, intertwined
within stories of "the Great Old Ones." It was as if the stories
themselves unleashed something darker than any shadow. My spirit
whirling in madness as I saw something that was...the truth of it
all...something pure, and untouched by man's internal workings of lust
and greed. Albeit wrapped in horror, it was a truth nonetheless. It was
in the heart of darkness I was witness to something of a universe when
compared to a grain of sand. Yes, it was just that!!! An absolute truth,
a universe overwhelming every part of my existence.
I know you must think me mad, and until I read
Mr. Reichl's account, I could only agree. Yet, here I stand, my back
crawling with shivers like a million tiny bugs consuming my fleshy case.
You see, I did see that same green hue, and amongst the ashes of what
was once a great fire....My God, what did we unleash? What is this
horror? What now possesses the Earth that was once sleeping in the
annals of time?
I beg of you, Mr. Reichl, or any fellow included in
this correspondence, please tell more of this green hue, and the flaming
wreckage?
Sincerely,
Prof. Cornelius R. Woest
Monday, August 27, 2012
De Profundis: A return to the epistle form after a southern expedition
My Fellow Gentlemen
My southern expedition completed I return to you. Our travels to the New Orleans and the Frontier a resounding success. Alas I was disheartened when not greeted with even a single post. My expectations were quite high from such esteemed gentlemen as yourselves.
Concerning the maters at hand, I again strolled the lane past Yeats home. I was astonished to find the stonework marred and brazened by the carbon of a great fire. Some of the masonry haunted by a faint green hue and lingering sulfurous odor. Scratch and hew marks seemed to indicate a pitched battle at the location, though I am not given to investigations of the physical.
I believe this story deepens beyond me sirs. I shall strive beyond boldly but I fear it is larger than just myself.
Wishes for a happier tomorrow
J.L. Reichl
My southern expedition completed I return to you. Our travels to the New Orleans and the Frontier a resounding success. Alas I was disheartened when not greeted with even a single post. My expectations were quite high from such esteemed gentlemen as yourselves.
Concerning the maters at hand, I again strolled the lane past Yeats home. I was astonished to find the stonework marred and brazened by the carbon of a great fire. Some of the masonry haunted by a faint green hue and lingering sulfurous odor. Scratch and hew marks seemed to indicate a pitched battle at the location, though I am not given to investigations of the physical.
I believe this story deepens beyond me sirs. I shall strive beyond boldly but I fear it is larger than just myself.
Wishes for a happier tomorrow
J.L. Reichl
First Full Moon of Autumn
Draw closer to me.
I know I've nothing,
you want, to give.
Tonight is something
I'm better with you
than I am without.
Laughing dreaming
you won't know about.
but were just strangers
nothing in the way.
No silly love!
Still want you to stay.
Help me end the day.
The moon is so bright!
With fall coming
I feel old tonight.
Too old for forever;
not much still remains
harvest's coming
cleaving bones and grain.
lets be together
only for tonight.
Been yours forever
just now see the light.
You've been my forever
never got it right.
You've been my forever
I never got it right.
I know I've nothing,
you want, to give.
Tonight is something
I'm better with you
than I am without.
Laughing dreaming
you won't know about.
but were just strangers
nothing in the way.
No silly love!
Still want you to stay.
Help me end the day.
The moon is so bright!
With fall coming
I feel old tonight.
Too old for forever;
not much still remains
harvest's coming
cleaving bones and grain.
lets be together
only for tonight.
Been yours forever
just now see the light.
You've been my forever
never got it right.
You've been my forever
I never got it right.
Thoughts on a stay at Disneyland and its hotels
So after a family trip to Disneyland I am left broken and exhausted. Seriously Disneyland attacked my wallet and it was super effective. Their Pacific Cove Hotel was sort of a dump cleaned up to be a quasi Disney hotel and the food sucked. The Grand California was nice and the dinner we got their was really good, crap if it wasn't nearly the same price as the cafe at the Pacific Cove. Really after going I think Disneyland needs to be somewhere else. The drive sucks, the weather was right crap and barring California adventure they don't have much room.
What I would sort of like to see would be a second park in California. This is actually not a new idea Walt himself had an idea for a ski park. My thought is for a second park somewhere in the King City to San Luis Obispo area. The idea is a park with better weather near a major city. The drive would be easy for the San Francisco greater bay area. Land would be cheap in that area which is key to this. So now you have something with room to grow if a large enough plot of land is purchased, still with draw from a college town and surrounding area.
I suggest this for Disneyland because it is slowly becoming something you can't change. That sounds funny considering how often they change their rides and attractions. If you really look at the park critically you are going to see their is a large portion they can not change. They can not change the entrance or the main street area as those are part of every ones vision of the park, as is the sleeping beauty castle. Pirates has changed but that ride isn't going anywhere and its the same for the Haunted Mansion. The rivers and island are integral to fantasmic so they will not be changing. Some rides like Dumbo and the tea cups are so classic to the park no one would let them be changed. Even that terrible small world has a life time pass. Facing the reality of Disneyland the better the imagineers do with a ride the more chance it has of becoming a classic that becomes a permanent fixture of the park. Eventually the park will become immutable.
The park will need more space at some point. That means taking over California Adventure which is sort of the same as Disneyland or moving. California Adventure seems sort of like Disneyland in its infancy, the rides sort of suck but the ideas are there. I am sure they will get better but then you have the same problem that is occurring in Disneyland, good rides stay and eventually you have a space problem again. I really think a second Californian park with several times the spaces of the existing Californian properties is an idea worth thinking about. It would also allow for a greater number of suites and micro hotels that live within the park itself. Imagine a themed haunted hotel that shares the building space as the Haunted Mansion. Perhaps quests could even be required or encouraged to wear period attire. I wouldn't be down with that but I know some folks would be all over it. I am thinking of a five to ten person bed and breakfast sized place don't get me wrong.
So there you go Disney or anyone else grand idea for free courtesy of your friendly neighborhood crescent star.
Friday, August 17, 2012
De Profundis: Following Mr. Rast's epistle
My Fellow Gentlemen
Following Mr. Rast's epistle I have inquired into W.B. Yeats and have concluded details of interest. Sir holds a residence but a short jaunt from my own. It is in fact well within a leisurely stroll from the southern park that borders my estate.
Taking advantage of my nightly sojourns I availed myself with the opportunity to present a calling card to Mr Yeats' manservant. As of this hour my request has gone unanswered, but I still hold to hope. In truth I am in no small way alleviated at this wanting of response. My studies did yield a connection between this order of the golden dawn and Yeats Himself. I am unsure to of what I propose.
I have hope you my fellows will be apt to provide a piece to this tale before... I set myself into the jaws of this beast.
My continued thanks
J.L. Reichl
Following Mr. Rast's epistle I have inquired into W.B. Yeats and have concluded details of interest. Sir holds a residence but a short jaunt from my own. It is in fact well within a leisurely stroll from the southern park that borders my estate.
Taking advantage of my nightly sojourns I availed myself with the opportunity to present a calling card to Mr Yeats' manservant. As of this hour my request has gone unanswered, but I still hold to hope. In truth I am in no small way alleviated at this wanting of response. My studies did yield a connection between this order of the golden dawn and Yeats Himself. I am unsure to of what I propose.
I have hope you my fellows will be apt to provide a piece to this tale before... I set myself into the jaws of this beast.
My continued thanks
J.L. Reichl
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Everything is A-Ok
This is the land of the never was
some Salton sea that was dreamed
In the autumn that everything burned.
Coral Castles to be my tomb
or hold me fast believe in their womb.
where I scheme a kingdom and a queen
but in fact no ones been.
Here is the hollow land
of men gathered together like sticks.
Perhaps strong in many,broken with bricks.
I only just watch and wait.
Longing and burdened with hate.
Yours is dream you made real
Gossamer and delicate concrete steel
Actual fashioned hard work and wish
How does a dreamer ever compete?
some Salton sea that was dreamed
In the autumn that everything burned.
Coral Castles to be my tomb
or hold me fast believe in their womb.
where I scheme a kingdom and a queen
but in fact no ones been.
Here is the hollow land
of men gathered together like sticks.
Perhaps strong in many,broken with bricks.
I only just watch and wait.
Longing and burdened with hate.
Yours is dream you made real
Gossamer and delicate concrete steel
Actual fashioned hard work and wish
How does a dreamer ever compete?
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
The Game Master and the Bartender
Lets hope for something a little more complicated in our next weeks gaming run. I feel there is a precipice coming up for the group it can go forward or dissolve just as easily. The game is the core that binds us. Some have friendships beyond but others could just as easily go. This can be a problem when groups.
You have those that grow out of the hobby. Often finding a better outlet or a different game that suits them better. I know my long time DM Brian really was always a WarHammer 40K player, he just didn't know it. I suspect the same from one of my other players. My friend Derek and I could get our writing or acting fix elsewhere. Then there those going with the flow that are not so set on gaming as they are spending time with friends.
This sort of gets me where I was headed. The gaming friendship is sort of an odd one. You are often playing with people you may or may not consider friends. This is because the hobby doesn't appeal to everyone and if your best buddies are life long gamers you are lucky. Often those of us that are more mercenary will leave groups of friend for other gaming groups that offer something more in terms of the roleplaying experience even if the players are people we actively dislike. I really can't think of situations were I put up with bigger weirdos and freaks than in my roleplaying life, well perhaps my family.
Here again you are dealing with a less than committed relationship you are perhaps more committed to the game world and the story than the relationships with the people at the table. This often leads to player unconcerned with jumping games. You seldom see the years long game in this setting.
Something I suggest is going beyond the game and building friendships with these people. Take a night or two out of the game and do something else. Bowl! Take a few minutes out of each game and talk about what you each want from the next game. Be honest and ask the hard questions. Are you having fun, what would make you have fun since you are not. What worked in this last session what didn't. In essence you should be the bartender at the end of the night with an ear for your players. Say little as you get more out of it when you listen. Let that form your next game session. Every one's experience will be better for it.
You have those that grow out of the hobby. Often finding a better outlet or a different game that suits them better. I know my long time DM Brian really was always a WarHammer 40K player, he just didn't know it. I suspect the same from one of my other players. My friend Derek and I could get our writing or acting fix elsewhere. Then there those going with the flow that are not so set on gaming as they are spending time with friends.
This sort of gets me where I was headed. The gaming friendship is sort of an odd one. You are often playing with people you may or may not consider friends. This is because the hobby doesn't appeal to everyone and if your best buddies are life long gamers you are lucky. Often those of us that are more mercenary will leave groups of friend for other gaming groups that offer something more in terms of the roleplaying experience even if the players are people we actively dislike. I really can't think of situations were I put up with bigger weirdos and freaks than in my roleplaying life, well perhaps my family.
Here again you are dealing with a less than committed relationship you are perhaps more committed to the game world and the story than the relationships with the people at the table. This often leads to player unconcerned with jumping games. You seldom see the years long game in this setting.
Something I suggest is going beyond the game and building friendships with these people. Take a night or two out of the game and do something else. Bowl! Take a few minutes out of each game and talk about what you each want from the next game. Be honest and ask the hard questions. Are you having fun, what would make you have fun since you are not. What worked in this last session what didn't. In essence you should be the bartender at the end of the night with an ear for your players. Say little as you get more out of it when you listen. Let that form your next game session. Every one's experience will be better for it.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
De Profundis a response from Mr. Antoine Moon Esq.
Hey,
I googled "Tempi Orientalis" and found Crescent Star. Kinda fun
Regards,Anthony Luna
Millennium Realty
DRE#01248731
408-835-3060cel.
My Fellow Gentlemen
True! I have also logged my comments elsewhere, as I wished them saved for prosperity. Alas my translation was wanting. Perhaps I should check with a doctor of Latin before running past myself as it where. The Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn was once the favored moniker of the eastern templar knights I believe.
Again my studies are in their infancy, and I write words I myself hardly understand. I thank you for your research. Many thanks to you Mr. Moon esp. This sort of help was wanting. Perhaps the Reverend Josiah Longman or Dr. Dillon GilChrist would add their voices to this salon discussion?
Again my thanks,
J.L. Reichl
De Profundis A response from Mr. Rast
Sirs,
I must relate some knowledge inspired by the poem you inscribed. For some terrible yet unknown reason, I have begun the study of modern poets. I suppose no American can picture such a thing, but poetry is well alive in England. The work you mention is attributed to William Butler Yeats. A minor Irish poet who's work often borders esoterica. Often graven with odd letter and grotesque designs some works make mentions of an order of the eastern temple. I suspect masonry!
Your Affectionate reader
Gurdjieff K. Rast
p.s. I love this writing game.
My Fellow Gentlemen
This is indeed illuminating. Masonry? The Order Tempi Orientalis? These names mean little to be but seem sinister. I shall invested myself in these subjects, I pray others will take up my cause as well. I fear this goes well beyond the confines of my southern parkway.
I am most grateful to you Mr. Rast for your response. We are now with a direction when before there was none. I will thank you now for your further assistance.
Grave times indeed,
J.L. Reichl
I must relate some knowledge inspired by the poem you inscribed. For some terrible yet unknown reason, I have begun the study of modern poets. I suppose no American can picture such a thing, but poetry is well alive in England. The work you mention is attributed to William Butler Yeats. A minor Irish poet who's work often borders esoterica. Often graven with odd letter and grotesque designs some works make mentions of an order of the eastern temple. I suspect masonry!
Your Affectionate reader
Gurdjieff K. Rast
p.s. I love this writing game.
My Fellow Gentlemen
This is indeed illuminating. Masonry? The Order Tempi Orientalis? These names mean little to be but seem sinister. I shall invested myself in these subjects, I pray others will take up my cause as well. I fear this goes well beyond the confines of my southern parkway.
I am most grateful to you Mr. Rast for your response. We are now with a direction when before there was none. I will thank you now for your further assistance.
Grave times indeed,
J.L. Reichl
Monday, August 13, 2012
Krampus for Christmas Revision 1
A little girl watched the monster next door,
Furry and clawed one hoof one foot pawed.
He backyard barbecued for the neighbor,
Singing to journey, burger and hot dogs.
Now her parents had said monster weren't real,
But here one was next door grilling with zeal.
She had watched it since moving in next door,
Afraid at first, but growing brave daily more.
The monster slept in a little dog house,
Even though he big and mostly stuck out.
He didn't make messes, was nice to the dog
Little girl not scared but It was wrong.
He wasn't Bigfoot or even the yeti,
He looked most like Iron maiden's Eddie.
And none of her friends had monsters next door,
Even the kid who let cats crap on his floor.
The Monster didn't see the girl watching,
He cooked for an army, the dog and him.
still more food he just kept the grill grilling.
until he saw a leaf fall from a limb.
This wouldn't have mattered on another day,
But the fire still blazing he walked away.
Dogs and burgers left alone and burning,
The monster felt a Christmastime yearning.
The beast tore into box loaded rafters.
untangling string lights with merry laughter.
This was no ordinary monster you see,
But a Christmas monster the best to be!
Sure he whipped the wicked when it was earned
And boiled with a hatred that always burned
and thought children were delicious to dine
But he kept the Christmas like olden times!
We shall call him Krampus it was his name,
Though early Kampus felt late all the same.
Moving the Calendar forward circling dates,
Krampus counted days and mustn't be late.
it was still summer? it was you'll see!
Still Thanksgiving and Halloween to go,
But Krampus worried about getting a tree.
Who tells a monster he is wrong? ya know?
Others loved fall for candy bought in July
Or pumpkin spice doughnuts, carbs are a lie!
But Krampus checked up on Santa's bad list
Cut switches snapping with a turn of wrist.
One would be left exhausted with worry
If not starting preparations very early!
Furry and clawed one hoof one foot pawed.
He backyard barbecued for the neighbor,
Singing to journey, burger and hot dogs.
Now her parents had said monster weren't real,
But here one was next door grilling with zeal.
She had watched it since moving in next door,
Afraid at first, but growing brave daily more.
The monster slept in a little dog house,
Even though he big and mostly stuck out.
He didn't make messes, was nice to the dog
Little girl not scared but It was wrong.
He wasn't Bigfoot or even the yeti,
He looked most like Iron maiden's Eddie.
And none of her friends had monsters next door,
Even the kid who let cats crap on his floor.
The Monster didn't see the girl watching,
He cooked for an army, the dog and him.
still more food he just kept the grill grilling.
until he saw a leaf fall from a limb.
This wouldn't have mattered on another day,
But the fire still blazing he walked away.
Dogs and burgers left alone and burning,
The monster felt a Christmastime yearning.
The beast tore into box loaded rafters.
untangling string lights with merry laughter.
This was no ordinary monster you see,
But a Christmas monster the best to be!
Sure he whipped the wicked when it was earned
And boiled with a hatred that always burned
and thought children were delicious to dine
But he kept the Christmas like olden times!
We shall call him Krampus it was his name,
Though early Kampus felt late all the same.
Moving the Calendar forward circling dates,
Krampus counted days and mustn't be late.
it was still summer? it was you'll see!
Still Thanksgiving and Halloween to go,
But Krampus worried about getting a tree.
Who tells a monster he is wrong? ya know?
Others loved fall for candy bought in July
Or pumpkin spice doughnuts, carbs are a lie!
But Krampus checked up on Santa's bad list
Cut switches snapping with a turn of wrist.
One would be left exhausted with worry
If not starting preparations very early!
De Profundis: Letter the fifth
My Fellow Gentlemen
A new chapter to our story is a foot. Again returning to the location of my previous inquiry, I find the site further molested. Now a poem has been emblazon upon a tree. I am unsure of the origin though I suspect an Anglo or Irish source. The verse diverges from American spelling conventions of the English language.
the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned
The text itself a dreadful incantation, I pray will not hold sway. My fellows does one have insight into this work? I still hold to hope for your response, as it is in character for gentry such as yourselves to respond in kind.
Forgive my tale if it seems too wide eyed and bleary looking inward. It is but the truth I inscribe.
My kindest salutations
J.L. Reichl
A new chapter to our story is a foot. Again returning to the location of my previous inquiry, I find the site further molested. Now a poem has been emblazon upon a tree. I am unsure of the origin though I suspect an Anglo or Irish source. The verse diverges from American spelling conventions of the English language.
the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned
The text itself a dreadful incantation, I pray will not hold sway. My fellows does one have insight into this work? I still hold to hope for your response, as it is in character for gentry such as yourselves to respond in kind.
Forgive my tale if it seems too wide eyed and bleary looking inward. It is but the truth I inscribe.
My kindest salutations
J.L. Reichl
Friday, August 10, 2012
Record review: Nick Drake, Pink Moon
I mean that in that it forges the path of a serious yet sensitive musical expression that rejects the mainstream. If you take Metal which I am a fan of while not mainstream it is not always serious and very seldom sensitive. It would take grunge to find any introversion in metal. Drakes music, especially here, works for that disenfranchised soul who does not embrace machismo as his outward face.
From the start this outsider voice begins, in Pink Moon. It's a warning that times will change and realign. The name Pink Moon I am not sure about it is the name used for the April Full Moon in the Farmers Almanac but I am not sure if this is a US or UK term. It is hard to get a solid feel as lyrically it is a short piece. When you get into songs like place to be and road you almost get this feeling that Drake feels rejected from the music business as a whole. Perhaps even life, yes we know what happens to Drake soon after this record. You feel rejected yourself when listening.
Parasite and Things behind the sun wow seem very heart broken indeed. They are hard to decipher with their sing song rhyming and imagery that hides obscure but yearning to be cracked.
Harvest Breed is like a short breath before the long fall of From the morning. Harvest almost asks if you understand are in and then From the Morning offers the cup of Koolaid to join.
De Profundis: The fourth letter
My Fellow Gentlemen
I was dismayed at the spectral response my previous missive invoked. Perhaps you were cast into wonder by my tale of phantasmagoria. I assure all within is true. I consult with you my fellow scribblers for further insights into these happenings or perhaps a like minded anecdote to assure myself sane. I will further endeavor if only to chronicle my own descent.
My investigations into the night time haunting of the greensward located southerly of my estate proved fruitful today. Impatient I journeyed into the park with the safety of broad daylight. The denizens of the sporting club paid me little mind, gentry I was beneath their consideration.
The establishment was neatly manicured and wholly sincere from the strolling paths that allowed access to the golfing pitches. It was not until I veered from the narrow way of the path that I found what is sought.
After some work I found myself within a hallow created by life and fell trees. It was here I first encountered a sinister turn of humor. The air itself oppressive I did not intend to linger but I could apprehend the location had been used on several occasions. The ground well worn and glass and wax remains were cast off for the undergrowth. It was amongst this refuse I spied my first clue though it was in truth little more than a torn fragment of a tome. The text itself was banal and uninformative but the fragment did hold a title. The book in question was a translation of the Lesser Key of Solomon by a minor British scholar S.L.M. Mathers.
My insight into the maters within the book are stunted at best. I believe it points toward a theosophical society but even this I am unsure. The noted professor of eastern mysticism Cornelious R. Woest has been included in my series of missives perhaps he could illuminate us.
My many thanks for your indulgence
J.L. Reichl
I was dismayed at the spectral response my previous missive invoked. Perhaps you were cast into wonder by my tale of phantasmagoria. I assure all within is true. I consult with you my fellow scribblers for further insights into these happenings or perhaps a like minded anecdote to assure myself sane. I will further endeavor if only to chronicle my own descent.
My investigations into the night time haunting of the greensward located southerly of my estate proved fruitful today. Impatient I journeyed into the park with the safety of broad daylight. The denizens of the sporting club paid me little mind, gentry I was beneath their consideration.
The establishment was neatly manicured and wholly sincere from the strolling paths that allowed access to the golfing pitches. It was not until I veered from the narrow way of the path that I found what is sought.
After some work I found myself within a hallow created by life and fell trees. It was here I first encountered a sinister turn of humor. The air itself oppressive I did not intend to linger but I could apprehend the location had been used on several occasions. The ground well worn and glass and wax remains were cast off for the undergrowth. It was amongst this refuse I spied my first clue though it was in truth little more than a torn fragment of a tome. The text itself was banal and uninformative but the fragment did hold a title. The book in question was a translation of the Lesser Key of Solomon by a minor British scholar S.L.M. Mathers.
My insight into the maters within the book are stunted at best. I believe it points toward a theosophical society but even this I am unsure. The noted professor of eastern mysticism Cornelious R. Woest has been included in my series of missives perhaps he could illuminate us.
My many thanks for your indulgence
J.L. Reichl
Thursday, August 09, 2012
Music Review: BareNaked Ladies, Gordon
The album was released in 1992, the early nineties were a weird time. It seems like change was in the air but besides grunge no one knew what this change meant. This record feels like that, its so weird being heartfelt and goofy often in the same song. I think that is perhaps the best deception for the record as a whole, Canadianly Goofy. That's not an insult its more saying it seems weird to us in the U.S. but may feel normal in the Great White North.
Hello City and Enid are very much what i am getting at here. They are silly but animates. They don't really rock but they have a good vibe to them like they polka and roll rather than rocking. When you get into Stuff like Grade 9 and Yoko Ono the band has gone full on dork this is goofy fun stuff. Rush bits are hidden in the music and It feels like they have gone from serious but fun into comedy.
Then you have songs like Wrap your arms around me, what a good boy and the flag that have no hint of comedy or irony. These are just great songs. Sometimes beautiful actually. But then there are Bedside Manor, box set and New Kid on the block. These are as silly as you can get.
So you are left with a mixed bag. This is basically a fun light hearted offering with much bounding into full blown comedy. But there are a couple of serious song. These are not you later day hit makers they had no shame and a ready to have some fun. Expect something much more playful than you have seen in other records.
De Profundis episle the third
Response to my secondary missive was even less cogent. Now the author has taken a common amphibian as a proper name.
" I had no idea Iron Maiden could have such a troubling effect upon a person. I am truly vexed.
-Toad"
Shocked, I continued undeterred, though I began to feel the grim forces at work were perhaps already taking hold within my small circle of writers.
My Fellow Gentlemen
I am amiss at your last missive. Surely an evening within the deadly device of torture would produce an imbalance of the tempers of ones mind. Though truly I do not understand the inclusion, unless you are aware of further armament of this Legion host.
Again I must turn to you my fellows, those outside this circle of letters would assuredly not grasp what I speak.
My travels of the night past again found me in the proximity of the park. It calls me like a love parted by war and distance. This past eve was cool as winds swirled about the trees. Either foolish or bold perhaps both I edge further around the green. My hope a less obstructed view than that provided on previous nocturnes. To this I was rewarded or cursed, as I saw them. An arrayed force of the underworld throwing off a ghastly nimbus of faint green. Each wickedly armed and columned in marching form.
A sane man I fled and prayed. Am I mistaken to believe one of you fellows to be of the clothe as is said?
My thanks dearest friends
J.L. Reichl
" I had no idea Iron Maiden could have such a troubling effect upon a person. I am truly vexed.
Shocked, I continued undeterred, though I began to feel the grim forces at work were perhaps already taking hold within my small circle of writers.
My Fellow Gentlemen
I am amiss at your last missive. Surely an evening within the deadly device of torture would produce an imbalance of the tempers of ones mind. Though truly I do not understand the inclusion, unless you are aware of further armament of this Legion host.
Again I must turn to you my fellows, those outside this circle of letters would assuredly not grasp what I speak.
My travels of the night past again found me in the proximity of the park. It calls me like a love parted by war and distance. This past eve was cool as winds swirled about the trees. Either foolish or bold perhaps both I edge further around the green. My hope a less obstructed view than that provided on previous nocturnes. To this I was rewarded or cursed, as I saw them. An arrayed force of the underworld throwing off a ghastly nimbus of faint green. Each wickedly armed and columned in marching form.
A sane man I fled and prayed. Am I mistaken to believe one of you fellows to be of the clothe as is said?
My thanks dearest friends
J.L. Reichl
De Profundis the second part
The response to my primary letter were incredulous at best
"Huh?" "Beware the blue pills... beware."
I set myself to the task of erudition of my literary circle, Here is my further attempt at correspondence.
My Fellow Gentlemen
Perhaps my previous epistle was indulgent in verse when prose was better served. I will endeavor to better explain myself. The night in question was late in the month of July, the hour past sunset for the time. My studies into the chronology of the mater would put the clock sway perhaps Nine and a quarter past the hour. Meteorological the temperature of the evening was unseasonably high whilst the barometer a bit for a mystery to me. The Laymen would characterize the temperature as muggy.
It was upon the evening walk that I encountered the unknown. To the south of the estate which I inhabit is a park. Not a grand park as in old New York but a deep rural wold of trees and grass. Often its employ if for the droll contest the Scots call Golf. As to this the greensward was left a mix of rough and groomed elements. But the games is in whole not played within the darkened hours of the day. As such the neither lawn nor park are alight.
Here my tale beings. Me the unsuspecting viewer walking amongst the heliotropes only walking in the evening to improve composure and constitution. From my nocturnal vantage of a corner I spied deep into the on goings of the far wood hidden in the part. La Pont Noir! Ultima Thule!
I discerned lights and shapes in parade with my far gazing. Growing nearer from afar in the end these presented upon myself the image of eyes. Monstrous nay demonic eyes from the dark. I recoil in fear. Though this can not proceed further. I must inform the constabulary. They will think me mad. But I speak in truth.
Dearest sir set forth a wise course of action.
I am sorry to effect such vulgar script. I pray you are advise without such course diction.
J.L. Reichl
"Huh?" "Beware the blue pills... beware."
I set myself to the task of erudition of my literary circle, Here is my further attempt at correspondence.
My Fellow Gentlemen
Perhaps my previous epistle was indulgent in verse when prose was better served. I will endeavor to better explain myself. The night in question was late in the month of July, the hour past sunset for the time. My studies into the chronology of the mater would put the clock sway perhaps Nine and a quarter past the hour. Meteorological the temperature of the evening was unseasonably high whilst the barometer a bit for a mystery to me. The Laymen would characterize the temperature as muggy.
It was upon the evening walk that I encountered the unknown. To the south of the estate which I inhabit is a park. Not a grand park as in old New York but a deep rural wold of trees and grass. Often its employ if for the droll contest the Scots call Golf. As to this the greensward was left a mix of rough and groomed elements. But the games is in whole not played within the darkened hours of the day. As such the neither lawn nor park are alight.
Here my tale beings. Me the unsuspecting viewer walking amongst the heliotropes only walking in the evening to improve composure and constitution. From my nocturnal vantage of a corner I spied deep into the on goings of the far wood hidden in the part. La Pont Noir! Ultima Thule!
I discerned lights and shapes in parade with my far gazing. Growing nearer from afar in the end these presented upon myself the image of eyes. Monstrous nay demonic eyes from the dark. I recoil in fear. Though this can not proceed further. I must inform the constabulary. They will think me mad. But I speak in truth.
Dearest sir set forth a wise course of action.
I am sorry to effect such vulgar script. I pray you are advise without such course diction.
J.L. Reichl
Wednesday, August 08, 2012
De Profundis..epistle the first
My Fellow Gentlemen
I must address you on an evening stroll of some concern. Please forgive the utlimaphysical turns of this missive.
The bird on the night perch sang from the park, melancholy tones for the past day. Often early in the evening I strolled the perimeter of light our city streets framed around the wooded expanse. But without illumination, god knows what sort haunted the deep expanse of green. The birds song slowed as the last pink fingers of sun retreated behind westward climbs; giving way to a chorus of crickets.
The night was common except in the regard for the heat. A weeping southern heat that wilts the soul. This was out of place! Our warmth correctly bleached and dried and our humidity cold and falling, as God fearing people should have. We carried on, the night air some relief to savor.
My stroll had been slow in pace this night, rounding the first corner somewhat later in the evening than Hoped I was surprised by the lights that could been seen deep within the wold of the park. It was not prepared for gas and certainly not electrified but there were lights. Queer green lamps caught and missed then caught again. Perhaps the geography of the greensward tricked the watching eye, though even to this I am unsure.
Unsure this is perhaps the one element I am sure of. My eyes were they weary or some strange haze. Foxfire?! But upon their nearing I saw cruel eyes.
I fear dearest friends I fear
-J.L.Reichl
I must address you on an evening stroll of some concern. Please forgive the utlimaphysical turns of this missive.
The bird on the night perch sang from the park, melancholy tones for the past day. Often early in the evening I strolled the perimeter of light our city streets framed around the wooded expanse. But without illumination, god knows what sort haunted the deep expanse of green. The birds song slowed as the last pink fingers of sun retreated behind westward climbs; giving way to a chorus of crickets.
The night was common except in the regard for the heat. A weeping southern heat that wilts the soul. This was out of place! Our warmth correctly bleached and dried and our humidity cold and falling, as God fearing people should have. We carried on, the night air some relief to savor.
My stroll had been slow in pace this night, rounding the first corner somewhat later in the evening than Hoped I was surprised by the lights that could been seen deep within the wold of the park. It was not prepared for gas and certainly not electrified but there were lights. Queer green lamps caught and missed then caught again. Perhaps the geography of the greensward tricked the watching eye, though even to this I am unsure.
Unsure this is perhaps the one element I am sure of. My eyes were they weary or some strange haze. Foxfire?! But upon their nearing I saw cruel eyes.
I fear dearest friends I fear
-J.L.Reichl
Tuesday, August 07, 2012
Top 5 Sax Songs from the 80's
I have seen several of these top five lists that talk about Saxophone in 80's music. So far all of them are just plain wrong. I know most people have this idea that music is subjective but actually no, my taste is just far better than yours. So in order to help here are the actual best 80's Sax songs.
5. Save it for Later by the English Beat. Tu Tone ska was all the rage in the early part of the decade. I think this is supposed to be the Cavern club or something, seems my sort of place I am the annoyed book reading loner only morbidly obese. I think the skeleton ad the end is making a cameo as it originally appeared in the Roger Palmer Looking for clues video.
4. This one is pretty good another fun video. Everyone else includes who can it be now. but not me I'm original (yeah this post is real original) I am mentioning their other song.
3. Rick Springfield Human touch now we are fucking talking bady! A mutant alien playing the sax in a video break down inside a video. I can not wait for Arcade fire to rip off this song, its a face melter.
2. Kantner Balin Someone with C as their last name KBC Bank. Song for America. Sax and America that is pretty much 80's in a nutshell. Its from hippies so its not totally America Fuck yeah but its cool.
1. Two Suns in the Sunset by Pink Floyd. Now a bunch of people out there think the Final Cut sucks or don't even know of its existence. But those people are wrong dead wrong. No joke this is a bad ass record that take The Wall to a middle aged persons doubts and fears. The Sax is a beautiful rise that comes in at the end of the song.
4. This one is pretty good another fun video. Everyone else includes who can it be now. but not me I'm original (yeah this post is real original) I am mentioning their other song.
Hounds in the House
I came to this in doubt
with narrowed eyes measure
the soft flow of words thrall
leaving abrupt silent
your dreams are tiger's schemes
all of us bound together
you get plenty to eat
only words shoulder the load
I am a hunters dog
trained, fed and foolish
I want to earn my bone
a soft home. Earn your own
Grand the worm yields his own
not the stealing old crow
with narrowed eyes measure
the soft flow of words thrall
leaving abrupt silent
your dreams are tiger's schemes
all of us bound together
you get plenty to eat
only words shoulder the load
I am a hunters dog
trained, fed and foolish
I want to earn my bone
a soft home. Earn your own
Grand the worm yields his own
not the stealing old crow
Monday, August 06, 2012
TV Servies Review: Life on Mars US and how it fails to live up to the UK version
So I got the chance to check out a bit of the United States version of life on Mars while I have been sick. Two points there, I have been sick so that is why not posts. The other is I am an American I just grew up with KTEH public TV so have so interest in British TV. Man I have to say what utter shit.
I will get into the ending in a bit but wow the casting was terrible here. Gretchen Mol was good and I have no complaints about the guy who played Skelton. There was a big problem with Sam, Ray and Gene. I know everyone has this image of Harvey Keitel as a bad ass but he is an actor and he isn't a big guy. There is this very PC image of the tough woman or little guy who everyone has to deffer to but that is nothing that the British life on mars was about. In the original version Gene is a brutish bully but we slowly find he does nearly everything for good motives. That is why we loved the character I was a hair away from the bad guys yet totally committed to being a good guy. This is a little of this in Keitels version but not enough. The US version didn't seem to play much with the idea of bad Gene Hunt. If you take the episode with the murder of the gay veteran, the us version really didn't play up Gene's homophobia. With out that Gene saying a murders is worse is nothing. In the British version it was powerful almost like a heel turning baby face.
Then you have Ray who isn't a bad version of the character but he seems less menacing than pissy. You had a real feeling that he wanted to kick Sam's ass all the time in the British version. Here he is more or less passive aggressive. In the British version he is a bit of a number two dog fighting to keep his place and he really hurts each time Sam Tyler is praised. He has a feeling of betrayal from Gene as if he is being replaced.
Man that Sci fi ending I have got to say what the fuck. Everything that was challenging and great about the end of life on Mars and Ashes to Ashes thrown away. I guess that is why they didn't care about throwing in messages from heaven saying your in purgatory. If you know what is going on with the Brit version the US pretty much does the reveal in the episode with whoopie goldberg. Really a shame as it probably won't point many to track down the much better British version of the show and its follow up.
I will get into the ending in a bit but wow the casting was terrible here. Gretchen Mol was good and I have no complaints about the guy who played Skelton. There was a big problem with Sam, Ray and Gene. I know everyone has this image of Harvey Keitel as a bad ass but he is an actor and he isn't a big guy. There is this very PC image of the tough woman or little guy who everyone has to deffer to but that is nothing that the British life on mars was about. In the original version Gene is a brutish bully but we slowly find he does nearly everything for good motives. That is why we loved the character I was a hair away from the bad guys yet totally committed to being a good guy. This is a little of this in Keitels version but not enough. The US version didn't seem to play much with the idea of bad Gene Hunt. If you take the episode with the murder of the gay veteran, the us version really didn't play up Gene's homophobia. With out that Gene saying a murders is worse is nothing. In the British version it was powerful almost like a heel turning baby face.
Then you have Ray who isn't a bad version of the character but he seems less menacing than pissy. You had a real feeling that he wanted to kick Sam's ass all the time in the British version. Here he is more or less passive aggressive. In the British version he is a bit of a number two dog fighting to keep his place and he really hurts each time Sam Tyler is praised. He has a feeling of betrayal from Gene as if he is being replaced.
Man that Sci fi ending I have got to say what the fuck. Everything that was challenging and great about the end of life on Mars and Ashes to Ashes thrown away. I guess that is why they didn't care about throwing in messages from heaven saying your in purgatory. If you know what is going on with the Brit version the US pretty much does the reveal in the episode with whoopie goldberg. Really a shame as it probably won't point many to track down the much better British version of the show and its follow up.
Wednesday, August 01, 2012
More thoughts on Never Unprepared
As I dig more into the Never Unprepared books I am noticed the author getting at something that is almost revolutionary to me. The GM's I have played with don't really interact much once they have set the world in place. I know I am guilty of this. This is not to say they are not doing the job of the Game Master but that they have basically established an environment and the characters interact with that environment. It almost is like a function with the players representing the inputs. Sure there are actions that drive the story but most often these are triggers that drive the players in some direction. It doesn't have to be a black box to use quality assurance terms. The Game Master should be more involved than a world builder.
Back in High school when I was playing 1st edition AD&D with my buddy Brian this was the approach. He had written up a huge dungeon and we were exploring it. Basically his involvement was OK this room has this in it, Fight! Don't get me wrong this was Hella fun. But the approach ends the creative process with the module. Also the game sessions really don't have a goal here, the goal is kill and have hella fun. Yep I'm from the bay area we say Hella. The number of sessions to complete a module is not particularly important nor is what is done. This style is sort of equivalent to grinding an MMORPG for level.
This does not have to be. The Game Master can always make changes and course corrections. One of the best idea that came out of Mr Vecchoine's book was hey what do you as a GM want to do with the session you are running? Sure you may need to get from point A to point B, but how would you like that done. How would you players like that done. Do they or you need a break? Do you need to throw a night of combat into the mix. After seeing The Third Man would you like to do a noir session? Basically the thought that the campaign does not dictate a particular session is refreshing.
Also while mentioned pretty briefly, there is the idea of Non Player Character independence. While the book just asks the question what is the NPC villain doing, the idea that plots and plans progress independent of the characters is great. Some evil plot could be completely ignored by the characters only to become the complete focus of the adventure later on if the plan comes to completion. I wouldn't recommend too many of these running plots as it gets hard for both the GM and players. You the GM begin having a lot of overhead and the player is often entangled in so much muck they don't have time to accomplish their own goals.
That gets me to another idea that arose from the book. Ask your players what they want on the next session. Even if their ideas suck they give an idea of what they are interested in. If they all say to kick some ass, hey give it to em. You don't have to blindly deliver sessions you think will be fun. The more input they give the less work for you.
To generalize think about what you and your players want out of each game night. Why not try to deliver that even if a prepared campaign or module doesn't call for it.
Back in High school when I was playing 1st edition AD&D with my buddy Brian this was the approach. He had written up a huge dungeon and we were exploring it. Basically his involvement was OK this room has this in it, Fight! Don't get me wrong this was Hella fun. But the approach ends the creative process with the module. Also the game sessions really don't have a goal here, the goal is kill and have hella fun. Yep I'm from the bay area we say Hella. The number of sessions to complete a module is not particularly important nor is what is done. This style is sort of equivalent to grinding an MMORPG for level.
This does not have to be. The Game Master can always make changes and course corrections. One of the best idea that came out of Mr Vecchoine's book was hey what do you as a GM want to do with the session you are running? Sure you may need to get from point A to point B, but how would you like that done. How would you players like that done. Do they or you need a break? Do you need to throw a night of combat into the mix. After seeing The Third Man would you like to do a noir session? Basically the thought that the campaign does not dictate a particular session is refreshing.
Also while mentioned pretty briefly, there is the idea of Non Player Character independence. While the book just asks the question what is the NPC villain doing, the idea that plots and plans progress independent of the characters is great. Some evil plot could be completely ignored by the characters only to become the complete focus of the adventure later on if the plan comes to completion. I wouldn't recommend too many of these running plots as it gets hard for both the GM and players. You the GM begin having a lot of overhead and the player is often entangled in so much muck they don't have time to accomplish their own goals.
That gets me to another idea that arose from the book. Ask your players what they want on the next session. Even if their ideas suck they give an idea of what they are interested in. If they all say to kick some ass, hey give it to em. You don't have to blindly deliver sessions you think will be fun. The more input they give the less work for you.
To generalize think about what you and your players want out of each game night. Why not try to deliver that even if a prepared campaign or module doesn't call for it.
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