Thursday, September 6, 2007

Conchords Blogging: Be More Constructive With Your Criticism

Yay, Flight of the Conchords is coming back for another season. Love that show. Although, I haven't made mention of it before. Partly because I have to rely on an underground relay of worn VHS (For which I must, in turn, subject myself to the rigors of Top Chef in order to participate. I should probably just find a torrent site and rip the damn things off but, you know, family.) tapes in order to catch an episode but also because, as the wise folks say, you can't blog

about the Conchords. Just can't do it.


Nothing happens in the funniest way possible.


Not Seinfeld “nothing” because that show was at least firing off jokes rapid fire. The Flight of the Conchords, on the other hand, is slow-paced, almost leisurely, as it revels in its ennui. So much so that you'll almost miss the wicked satirical barbs being thrown about. Because the show is as much about the subtle nuance as it is the juxtaposition of the restrained waking life of the characters to the over the top musical numbers.


I mean, take my favorite episode so far, #3 - “Mugged”. You can describe the plot as follows: Brett and Jermaine have a falling out after they're mugged but soon reconcile. But that glosses over everything that makes the episode good. Like the monkey and the thugs who's relationship mirrors the protagonist's own. Or the killer take on the Crocodile Dundee knifey/spooney game. The little touches like the ingenious “camera phone” or the giant swipes of parody like, well, this:



It defies description unless, of course, you want to get all pseudo-intellectual and wring the humor out of it by dissecting just what it is that makes the jokes so funny. No, you can't blog about the Conchords, but what you can do is share the joy through the magic of embedded video players. You can find all sorts of stuff on YouTube of course, but I'll stick to the copyright friendly offerings at the HBO site.


The dead-on parodies contained within the show's musical numbers are especially good fodder. Take, for example, this play on the Lord of the Rings. It's especially apt since the Conchords hail from New Zealand where the series was filmed. And, of course, Jermaine is (non-canon) Figwit.



Then there's the way the band will just capture a musical style, so well. Like this twisted rat pack, Vegas lounge lizard number:



Or a specific artist like this ode to David Bowie:



But, really, what makes these numbers work is the....Conchordy humor that so defeats any attempt to explain it sucinctly. Like the beginning of this one. “She's so hot, it's making me sexist. Bitch.” Boom.



What carries the show, though, are the smaller moments. The ones that don't translate as well to a world of viral clips and instantly memorable moments. But here's a glimpse:




There's just an impressive amount of effort that goes into making it look so easy.

The Dead Girl

Watched the Dead Girl recently, a movie I'd heard promising things about. It's probably the saddest story about character I couldn't be bothered to care about that I've seen in a while. It's not exactly what I'd call a good movie although it has an interesting narrative trick. Not so much one story as it is a series of vignettes all connected to the discovery of a dead body out in the countryside. Although those stories are linked thematically making for some kind of meta-plot arc that's actually somewhat moving even though you know exactly where it's going to end up. Which is, dramatically speaking, like a baseball bat to the gut. The last one, featuring the titular dead girl in the last hours of her life is especially hard to watch. Because you know what's coming, like the light at the end of tunnel with rumbling train tracks. Any hope of happiness, any hope of redemption is snatched away from the characters in the greatest traditions of a tragedy. They go up, up, up and then crash and burn thanks to their own actions, their own mistakes. You know it. You can't help but know it, and it doesn't matter because the plot isn't the important thing, it's the character moments in getting there. But, I don't know, maybe I watched it when I was too numb emotionally from dealing with my own overflowing bowl of crap because I was just too ground down by the gritty, bleak tone to actually care about the bad things happening.


Just way too downbeat and needed at least one story cutting against the motiff of life being an unending torrent of shit raining down on you, I guess. And, no, the one with the girl's mother rescuing her granddaughter from a life of drugs and illiteracy and icky brown people doesn't count because that wasn't really her story. It was the hooker's, the dead girl's lover who had a chance to escape that life and turned it down in the end. While the mother was like some unholy personification of liberal guilt, attempting to pave over the errors of the past by passing out cash and sympathy.


No, I think the movie's ultimately a failure unless its goal was to depress the crap out of me. What I found interesting, though, was how it was structured. As I said, it's a series of five vignettes each featuring someone who's been touched somehow, affected by the death of this girl (With, of course, a capper about the girl herself before she died.). Which I found intriguing because I couldn't see how you could fit that into the standard box of a three-act structure yet it seems like a decent enough way of constructing a movie. A little trick that I'm going to salt away in hope of using it myself one day, if I'm so lucky.


One thing I noticed was how those vignettes were joined together by what I'll call intertextual cuts. You know what I mean, they did it constantly on shows like Buffy. Someone will say something like, “Boy, things couldn't get any worse” and the next scene will unveil the new big bad and his plan to make things go from bad to worse. A mechanic like that, I'm not sure what it's really called but intertextual works well enough for my addled mind. I mention it, though, because I don't really like them. They've become trite and overused. A cheap way of scoring post-modern points. But here, they're not used as ironic psuedo-metatextual jokes but, instead, as junction points in the flow of the narrative. An item or an overheard phase will assume new meaning, new importance in the following scene. Almost dream-like as it's the same the same way that you can be floating along in a dream and see an orange and suddenly your dream becomes about that orange. Just not quite as disjointed or poorly explained.


Again, the execution is a lot less interesting than the concept for me. Because I'm fascinated by the possibilities even as I'm disappointed at the results on display. Still, I'd rather watch an ambitious movie that falls a little short of its mark than one that revels in its mediocrity. Much more instructive.


But, the single thing that bothered me most about the movie? Brittany Murphey. I really bought her as a strung out prostitute and all I have to say about that is what happened to my sweet little Tai from Clueless? Still freaks me out whenever I see the not-so-divine Miss Murphey in a role these days.

Ohmigosh, Lookit the Time

Ack, got wrapped up in Script #3 and completely forgot about posting today. Let me dredge through my ghostfile and see if there's anything I can throw up.

The script, by the way, is going alright. I'm in the outline stage. Or, in other words, the easy part that I enjoy, as I'm laying out the plot, considering the implications, and hammering out the details. The difficult work of pulling it all together has yet to begin although I'm buzzing with scenelets and gem lines that I've just had to get down before they escaped into the ethers.

Changing gears from Script #2 seems to be working out well. I've been stuck, pounding against the same brick wall, unable to clear the same hurdles, over and over again. But starting a new project (Really, starting an old one up again. I worked on something like cthis script briefly before the Frenzy to see how the format ticked. If you look here when I was contemplating what to do after junking my initial script, you'll find a previous iteration.) is reinvigorating. It probably won't last, but the ideas, the words are flowing easier than they have in a while.

This is a good thing.

And I could really use good things right about now.

So, let me just see what I've got that can brighten up my little corner of the world that little bit...

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

The Sun is Shining

Right back at it, indeed. Had a pretty good day today. As I mentioned earlier, things haven't been going so well and I've been really pressing and it hasn't been getting me anywhere. Over the weekend, I relaxed and now things don't seem so bad. For now anyway.


I should mention that I'm giving up on my script, Unbound. For the time being, anyway. I gave myself until the end of August to finish it and I didn't, so it's time to leave it on draft #17913 or whatever I'm up to and move on to something new. That something new is another script, one I've done “preproduction” work for all last month. While it doesn't have quite as detailed a collection of notes, outlines, flow charts, and Venn diagrams as Unbound does at the moment, I'm almost ready to start writing in earnest. The working title is Swamp Opera, which you might have heard me mention before. And, if all goes well, it's only going to be a prelude to the NaNo novel I'm already well into the planning of. The script is set in the same world, maybe in an Arthur C. Clarke-like tangent, after all, allowing me to build and explore it even as I work to get a finished piece. So, expect more from me about that shortly.


I keep meaning to post more about comics stuff. Not that I really want to wade into the overcrowded and talented arena of comicsblogging or anything but it's an interest and I tend to post about my interests. This post's not exactly going to win me many new subscribers (Must...resist....urge...to...check....FeedBurner....stats....again....) but it's a start.


And I've got several posts laying in wait from the GW:EN preview event just awaiting a final goings-over before I post them up, including my long delayed review. I wanted to get them done and out of the way last week before release but couldn't manage it thanks to some real life issues. So, now, rather than rushing them all out the door I'm going to take my time and polish them up. Probably add a few more things, too. I promised myself if I finished my August script, I'd gradually start playing again. I didn't complete that script but over the weekend I said “screw it” and reinstalled anyway. I'm not doing much at the moment, just trying to pad out my Monkey's skill list and finish off some old campaigns with the characters that never made it through them, a mission or two at a time. So, if you see me in game (My in-game name's “Sausaletus Rex” because I'm real original like that, by the way.) now you know what I'm doing. But since I'll be flirting about on the periphery of things, I'll likely find a few things to rant about. On my mind at the moment? Polymock.


Also, expect me to buckle down and finish off the renovations around here one of these days. I got sort of sidetracked but I do intend to keep tweaking things until I'm satisfied.


Anyhow, that's the plan at the moment. Prepare for NaNo by working on another script. Work my lingering Guild Wars addiction out of my bloodstream and my backlog. Broaden the scope of things around here. And finally take the “Under construction” signs down. It's not much but it'll do for a start.

Apparently We Will Have Craig To Kick Around Some More

Huh. Craig might not be gone after all. That's...interesting. In the same way as the looming pileup on the freeway is while you frantically slam your breaks. Between this and the unflattering comparisons with the Vitter matter (As in why, exactly, is Craig getting the bum's rush while Vitter gets to keep his seat? Paying for extramarital sex with prostitutes strikes me as a few degrees worse than soliciting consensual - though still extramarital - sex in a public place; the police don't raid the local sports bar on ladies' night, after all, but they do raid the brothels. Of course, what explains it all is the governor of Idaho being a Republican who'll keep the seat in the family. So to speak.) the whole Craig fiasco's been handled about as poorly as you can imagine. More so because in one fell swoop, a disgraced “family values” Republican ensnared in a sex scandal has just trumped the planned roll-out of the Iraq war report. Again, I'm forced to ask, this is the mighty Republican machine that the left has been so afraid of?

The Mon-Elves Have Been Busy

Came across this in my daily trek across the hinterlands of the net. The Legion cartoon has actually been a pleasant surprise for me. I haven't managed to catch a lot of it, but given how put off I was by the initial designs, it's been solid. I'm not really a Legion fanatic, anyway, but I did manage to get my niece/cousin a DVD of the first season (I'm trying to activate her dormant nerdling gene. Her mother is a trekkie, she's already doomed, I'm just hoping I can get some good cultural foundations in there before it's too late.) and she was nice enough to treat me to a viewing selection and a detailed, authoritative overview of the various characters on the show (Like I said, doomed.).


Anyhow, the new season is coming up. I'm a little skeptical of the whole “darker”, “edgier” turn they're planning, that's not why my single-digit cousin likes the show, after all. I'd heard they were doing a Mon-El which I thought sounded cool. This Conan as a Superboy, however? Does not. I imagine the blogosphere is roiling or rioting or whatever it is they do about these sorts of things.


But, yeah, I wonder about the “complicated origin” explaination, too. Because the Mon-El origin is pretty straightforward and simplistic when you get right down to it. I suspect, as the article mentions, the real reason, not only for this Kell-El character but for the show's aging involves the protracted battle over the Superboy character itself. Having to avoid Smallville and Superboy entirely would make it difficult to retell that Mon-El origin.

Guild Wars: My Unsolicited Advice For GW2

The first, the absolute first thing you need to do from a PR standpoint is to do the official wiki one better. You need an officially unofficial site that the gaming public can flock to, and you can't leave it to the community to come up with one for you. You need to get out into those blue waters and establish that site yourselves, leaving the fan community to take care of the niches and corners you leave in your wake.


It doesn't have to be part of the official site itself, but it has to be clearly linked, tied to the game in fundamental ways. The functionality of it has to be built into the game itself from the very beginning. Players need to have something like a wiki, something like a forum, something like e-mail or private messages, right at their fingertips and a fansite provides all of that along with a horde of volunteers and devotees who'll be willing to donate the time and energy to keep it running. Sure, you might have to pay out a bit for servers and bandwidth, but the benefits you reap in terms of creating, fostering, and encouraging a community of rabid followers easily offsets those costs. People will play the game, be drawn into that community, become part of it, become informed, enriched, and encouraged by it and keep playing, keep paying, more than they would otherwise.


A few disclaimers here and there. Notices that the opinions expressed, the information contained, the voices raised, aren't part of the company's view. That this site is supported, subsidized, because the developers realize how important a place to talk and share is to their players, have seen in the past just what it means to everyone involved, but it remains, somehow, separate.


Another official wiki is great, would be an amazing resource, but it can be even better. Integrate it, for one with forums. Forget talk pages, let users deal with things in threads and discussions in a medium that handles them better. Handles things other than raw information better. Because these unofficially official forums would team with players looking to trade, to connect, to form groups and guilds and teams, just as much as they will to share their works of fandom or their suggestions for improvements. Make sure that, just like the current wiki, that the right developers are there, involved, posting, commenting, participating. Even the appearance that they care and will respond to their loyal public a long way. And, yes, there will be flame wars and misstatements and controversies and everything that comes from interacting with the public but, that's okay.


That's what you have your qualified, dedicated moderators for. That's just makes you seem human, makes you seem even more a part of it all. And, in the end, it's not really official. It's a fan site, it doesn't really count. It can all be walked back, if it needs to be. But your site, these forums, they're not just a place for people to come and find the way to beat a mission or where that skill they've been coveting can be found. It's a meeting place. A hub. Of activity but more importantly of the kind of connections that drive an online, multiplayer game. It's easy to get swept up, to get carried away by that stream but it's a powerful one and, if you take the right care, you can tap into it, for the betterment of all.


It might take some new software. A new PHB or wiki code, one that's optimized for this sort of thing. But you have plenty of talented programmers who can lash it together. And if they can't, well, that's when you throw things to the fans and say, “Hey, we could use some help here. If you're willing to work for free, we're willing to not pay you. Unless, of course, you think having a better site, a new functionality wouldn't be compensation enough on its own.” They'll help. They'll jump at the chance, thrill at being just a small part of it all. Maybe almost half of them won't pan out, won't have the talent or the drive to do anything but promise. Maybe the other half flakes and leaves you high and dry. Doesn't matter if only one in a hundred of their ideas is a good one when you have thousands of them.


But imagine what the game will be like when it's tied, integrated, connected to a purpose built site full of forums and wikis. If creating an account registered you on such a site. And the game linked to the site, pointing people to it so they could use its many resources even as they played. Global announcements, help files, directing people that answers and more can be found at this amazing place where the fans and developers have come together to make something out of the nothingness between.


Stuck in a mission? Well, there's a full-fledged wiki where you can find all the tips and tricks you need, customized to your desired level of spoilers (Just want to know what you're supposed to do next but don't want to find out the plot ahead of time? Want to figure out these answers yourself? Great. No, you want a map and a helping hand to guide you through everything? Well, we've got that, too.). Looking for a group to play with? Hey, we've got forums where you can get recruited into a guild. Want something a little less permanent, only looking to urn this particular challenging instance and need some help? Hey, we've combined the party search with a calender, so you can schedule a raid or plan to join a group ahead of time. Whatever it is you need, whatever you can't find in game, we've got it here, for you. By you. By the developers. By us, together. You. You can be a part of it all, too. All you have to do is take that one, trembling step into the brave new world. But it's a small step because we've worked so hard to knock down the barriers and ease your way. Join. Come join. It's easier than you think.


It doesn't replace the fan community. It supercharges it. It co-opts it and all the energy and volunteerism it brings. All those people, all those participants, it's a rich source of data, of feedback for the game and how it works. The stark truth with these sorts of places is that only smaller and smaller percentages of people take part or even barely manage to participate. But if inclusion is built right into the system then it's much easier for people to pass through those gates. And those who pass through find it harder to leave. The ones who are part of the community, who feel like they belong, who feel like they've got ownership over some small piece of it all, those are the ones who stay. Those are the ones who are the fans, who'll buy your game and extol its virtues and play it all the same. The more people you invite into the outer layers of that club, the larger the potential population even as the hard, cold knife of statistical reality slices away at the faithful.


I used to make posts like this all the time. In the dark, in the secrets, behind the walls at one fansite or another. To steer opinion, to focus our energies, to unveil some new project or initiative to drive us forward. Because that's the kind of administrator/moderator/manager/whatever I was. I'm an ideas person and every so often some bright, amazing idea pops into my head, and I just have to hammer it out there. When I ran those kinds of sites, when I had a say in how they would be improved, that's the kind of idea I shared. Not because I was paid. I've never accept a dime for any of that sort of thing, never even got a t-shirt, going so far as to turn down any credit, any compensation, I felt was undue. Not because I had to, because when I'd had enough, I was able to throw up my arms and walk away free of any obligations. But for the simple reason that I wanted to be part of it all and I don't know any other way of doing so that to do my best in service of whatever cause I've made my own. The thing is, I might be a unique individual, my own specific set of talents and motivations, but I'm not the only one who feels that way. Not the only who'd work so hard, care so much, for something I have no reason to. There are other like me out there, just waiting for the right chance, the right circumstances, to show everyone what they can do. And you know what? I started out as just someone who clicked a link, followed it to site, read a few threads, made a few hesitant posts and got swept up in the excitement, in the rush of events to find themselves somewhere, something different than just another face in the crowd. If only for a moment. And I like to think I made the most of my brief moment in the shining sun, used it as a chance to better not just myself but everyone around me, the only way I know how. But it happened to me. It can happen to others, too, if only they're given that chance. Why not give them as much of one as you can? Why not be better?

Guild Wars: Out of the Mists of the Past

I have, understandably, been somewhat ambivalent about Guild Wars lately. On the one hand, I'm not picking up GW:EN, I'm really not planning to any time soon, and I'd sooner shove an active stick blender down my pants than get deeply involved in things again. But on the other, I can't seem to help logging on to run some mission or quest whenever I have a spare few minutes - the way I always envisioned doing. Because, at its heart, the game is still fun and engaging for me and decent enough as a time-waster. It's like I know there's this big, important event happening, I know I should be involved, but I can't quite bring myself to care. And I can't quite figure out why.


Still, while I'm not gazing into my navel or stealing a few moments storming Glint's Lair because, you know, I never really have slain the prescient beast on my own and it's far past time I corrected that, I've been getting nostalgic. Like someone wistful for their salad days will idly flip through a yearbook or a stack of pictures, I've been revisiting the shattered ruins of old haunts. Looking at old threads, old conversations, to walk with the ghosts of a time long gone. It's just fascinating to me to look at the arguments from the past. Bold statements that Elmos would sound the deathknell for primary Monks. Epic posts arguing that skill crystals and the ninth slot they brought with them would be the game's downfall. Builds of a past when people were still trying to find their way. Strat that would be laughable today being bandied about as revelation. How much time, how many bytes did we waste in caring about things that turned out to not matter? Or did we, really, waste them at all? Were those kind of things necessary to get where we are today? Did we have to make those mistakes, miss those insights, to gain the knowledge we carry forward from now? It's the sort of thing that keeps me awake nights, staring at the ceiling and wondering how it might have been, if only.


Here's just one example, from the old days at TGH. This is a conversation I missed since I was in the middle of launching Guru at the time and, thus, persona nongrata. But, if you think I'm going to dredge up an old instance where I was holding courts – saying, for example, that Hunter Shot was useless (Missed the numbers there. Prot Strike, I got right away. But Hunter's was like that for Rangers. It's not about the effects, which have never been too thrilling, it's all about that quick recharge, letting you pour more damage into the spike that was about to explode all over the PvP scene. And I completely did not get that, made a jackass out of myself shitting all over the skill, until someone pointed it out to me. I think that's about when I realized that I was in way over my head and needed to get out.), that Wastrel's Worry Mesmers had no place in the game (Which, obviously, they do. But at the time Energy Drain and e-denial were stupid crazy broken. And there was no reason to do anything but abuse the hell out of them and put a butt helmet on two or three different enemies at a single time. Any Mesmer not doing that was a poor one. Operative word there being was as e-denial got swiftly nerfed in the pants and Korean teams using Dom Mes with Wastrel's just ravaged people in Taiwan. I hear Chuck was taunted mercilessly about this because he was right there with me shouting “Don't use Wastrel's, use ENERGY DRAIN!!!” from the megaphone.), and any other gross lapses in judgement – well, you've sadly overestimated my intestinal fortitude.


It's a thread from the tail end of January, 2005 – a time before release, but a time when monthly BWEs were giving everyone a taste of the game and, as I said, Guru was in the midst of taking off (A reason, perhaps, why a lot of the heavyweights I remember from back in the day neglected to weigh in. They were all busy crashing at the new place and enjoying the refined, upmarket atmosphere that the founding troika had provided. Inde might have been running - bankrolling - things, but it was really Spooky, THX, and I who'd worked like mad to pull the thing off. THX was the linchpin. He did the lion's share of the work behind the scenes, as the hardworking, affable glue holding everything together because of how much everyone respected him. He was the guy behind the databases, the projects, like the skill directory and more that really drew people in. Spooky's involvement immediately legitimized us in the eyes of nearly everyone involved. Even then, we all knew he was a rising star destined for greater things. His deft touch with the written word created the charm, the little plays on words and forms and encouraged everyone involved to try just that little bit harder. Me? Well, I set the tone. I was always comfortable playing the heavy, the black hat, the abusive mod drunk on his own inflated sense of power, to whip everyone into shape, if need be. But more than that, I like to think I brought my own kind of legitimacy, my own kind of authority, that drew the right kind of collaborators and commentors to the site. Would they have shown up if my timelost friends had picked someone else to invite into the fold? I'll never know. But I like to think I was known for the intelligence, for the attention and care towards detail that I brought to a discussion and that there were plenty of people out there who wanted to talk to me in those days. And that helped to establish the Guru as a place to be for a hardcore crowd that had grown disillusioned with the other available options. Nowadays, of course, it's an intractable swamp, a hive of wretched stupidity which has collapsed in due to the sheer weight of its own uselessness. I, of course, say that in the nicest way possible. But you have to remember, that wasn't what we, what I, set out to create. In the early days, we wanted to be the next Lurker's Lair. The three of us, together, our goal was quality, not quantity. And all the attention, all the massive influx of new and clueless, all stemmed from that commitment to being just that little bit better than everyone else.). And the original poster's someone who'd clued into the potential of Crip Shot did the sensible thing, for TGH, and ran to the boards to bitch about it.


It's fascinating, with the benefit of hindsight to see just how correct he was. Crip Shot was grossly unfair, amazingly so, and it was going to come to dominate Warrior builds and the style of play in the months ahead. All because of the points that are made in the thread – its low cost, its low recharge, and how it eliminates many of the commonly available counters, like Deflect Arrows (Shield's Up didn't even enter into the picture. Probably because, at the time, it sucked an noone cared about it. I love this kind of stuff.), because it ignored Blocking. And Evading, a mechanic that's now relegated to the boneyard of history.


But more interesting to me is reading the reaction. There's Blackace, good old Blacky, spreading malicious disinformation about Expertise.


There's good old Scaphism, for another example, arguing that a blind bot screwing over a Crip Shot Ranger is, at best, a tactical draw. Something that might have made sense at the time, but runs counter to the experience and development of the game. Erasing that Ranger, even for a time, even at the high costs mentioned, is worth it. Not because of things like e-management and more powering the Ele through the gap but because by taking that Cripple out of the picture, the Eles team has just gone on a power play. They're blasted open that elusive window of opportunity and now their Warriors, their melee attackers are running impeded all over the field. The Ranger's team finds their targets kiting away with ease, lacking that snare they've been relying on to train. One team's offense finds that a critical piece of their opponent's defenses has been blown away. The other finds their offense hamstrung by a missing component. That's the sort of tradeoff a seasoned team, a good player, makes handsdown.


And, there's Falconer (Seriously, what happened to that guy? He used to know what he was talking about. /metajoke.) saying that Crip Shot was a wasted slot because people “rarely block or evade”. And he was making sense because this was back in the days before SoD and Wards and Aegis everyplace and all the countermeasures of the modern game just weren't used. Weren't even on the radar for the smart people who thought about the game, who followed it, who tried to dissect it into discrete pieces of understanding.


The calls in the thread for changes to Crip Shot were, actually, what ended up happening, for the most part. It got linked to Marksmanship – not really the problem but an important step – and more importantly, had its cost amped up to make it harder to keep the entire team snared for long periods of time. And creating a tension between pumping up your Expertise high enough to actually use the skill and keeping your Marksmanship at a level where you still got a useful snare. That pretty much took the Ranger out of play for a while. Until juicy new skills like Mending Touch and Natural Stride along with BHA and BA brought them back to the forefront. At the time, though, Cirp Shot Rangers with Distortion were the order of the day (I have this pet theory that there's really only one bow Ranger build at any given time. Just like Dagger Sins, some people use last meta's model, some people experiment to find the next's, but there's just one popular, effective build that's the best at doing what you want that character to do. Other classes have a bit more variety but, ever since R-spike went the way of the dodo, the only thing that changes about a Ranger is the particulars. You've bolted D-shot and a prep and a run/block stance to that bar and only need to pick the elite flavor you want – these days I imagine the choice is between Broadhead's or Burning still although I'm completely guessing. But the actual archetype hasn't advanced far from the Crip Shot days.). Which was an important, metashifting tweak.


Now, though, Crip Shot's been rebalanced back down to 10 energy, making it insanely cheap again. And the crazy thing is that it doesn't matter. Crip Shot used to be the skill. The one that the game revolved around, the one that forced build decisions and tactical adjustments. Now, there's just no way those cripples stick in a metagame that eats conditions raw. There's too many good skills for dealing with them. Too much of a focus in the planning to deal with them. And too much experience hard won by keeping the frontliners clean of blinds and more besides. They could put Crip Shot at 5 energy and I wouldn't be tempted to run it any more than I am tempted to run Pin Down (You'd need some kind of really condition heavy pressure team just to make it fly. Something like the old Tainted Flesh builds. And I'm not sure those really work anymore.). Just not as effective anymore. The game's passed it by.


But in that thread, no one knew it. No one had even encountered Ranger Spike yet. Crippling Shot was another menace on the horizon that someone was smart enough to catch only to be shouted down. It mattered back then. Just fascinating. Staring into the abyss of that past.

Epic Fail to the Victors

In retrospect, maybe it was a good thing that this game wasn't televised. If it had, I might have spent my weekend shopping for a new TV. As it was, I tried to catch it at the local sports bar, having grown increasingly panicked at the chance the game was something other than a cupcake smash (Not that I expected Michigan to lose, mind you, I just thought it might be a close game since looking at Appalachian State had revealed a tested team with a mobile quarterback, the kind the Wolverines tend to have problems with. I figured it might be a competitive game to watch and there's this waitress, and...) figuring they'd have whatever package contained the Big Ten Network. Turns out they didn't, since it's only available on certain satellite providers they lacked. So, I wound up watching the State game I could have caught back home and nearly going into cardiac arrest everytime the ticker or an update flashed into view.


It was inevitable, I guess. Just like, one day, a 16 seed is going to beat a number 1 in the NCAAs. With all the FCS or D I-AA teams scheduled to open seasons, one of them was going to beat a high ranked team. I just wish it hadn't happened to my Wolverines, of course.


Now, I'm not one of the people screaming for the head of Lloyd Carr or calling this the greatest upset ever. That, I think, takes away from what Appalachian State accomplished. Give them their dues, they came into the Big House, stood before the 100,000, and came to play. Michigan had every opportunity to win that game, led in the statistical categories (And maybe, oh maybe, if but Hart had stayed healthy), but from what I can tell, it was Appalachian State's game almost from the kickoff. They deserved to win. And, as the defending D I-AA champs, maybe that shouldn't be such a surprise. Certainly, they weren't intimidated by the wings or the size of the crowd or anything else.


It's a loss. A bad one. Even though losses in September are a lot easier to overcome than ones at the end of the season, it still means that any realistic shot at a national title is gone. There's still the Big Ten, though, and a chance to bury the demons of OSU. I felt this coming week's game would be even tougher on UofM, because Oregon has another speedy quarterback, but now I wonder if the team can pull things together, get over this loss, in time to get those hopes back on track. I kinda doubt it at the moment. It's a historical loss, the first time it's happened, but I think it's being hyped as the “greatest” by the same sports machine that dubs the latest, the newest, the best ever before moving on to the next and the next. Michigan will still have its recruits, Michigan will be back. If not this year, then the next. Or the next. That's why it's an elite, premier program. And one loss, no matter how unprecedented it is doesn't change that.


What I can't say, though, is that I'm surprised. As I said in my misguided post the day before the game, a true Michigan knows that when people start talking about UofM, start ranking and regarding them, that's the time to worry. Because, for the most part, they crumble under that weight, wilt under the pressure of those expectations. I never would have called the loss to Appalachian State in a million years but I wasn't buying my BCS Championship tickets, either.


Maybe it's because I'm older, wiser, and another year removed from my days of slavish fanship. But with all the talk, all the hype heading into the season, I couldn't help but recall the last time the team was expected to do well after an unexpectedly good season. And that was '98, the year after the team had split the national title with Nebraska (Something that, no doubt, helped give us the BCS system we have today. So, you see, I have ample reason to hate the Cornhuskers.). Hopes were high heading into the season. Charles Woodson and our quarterback, Brian Griese was gone, and in his place someone named Tom Brady was starting over the heralded blue chipper Drew Henson. But our offense otherwise looked solid and the defense promised to be as stout as the year before. Anchored not by the secondary but the line. Expectations were high. Michigan was going to show everyone that the year before hadn't been a fluke. They were going to contend, not just for the conference title but for the championship as well.


It was also, for me, the first year I bought season tickets to the games. I was still in college at the time. The years before, I hadn't bothered. Owing to some concept of what was cool and what was expected of me by my hipster peers and, more likely than not, my inability to turn in any paperwork by a deadline, I just never had them. Thanks to scalping and trading, I managed to get tickets for most of the '97 games (They were offered to students in a split package, due to demand. You could get four games that included MSU/Notre Dame, or four games that included OSU. Something like that, anyway. But if you were quick, you could buy up tickets to the remaining games, as some of my friends did.) at a premium. Including that snowy afternoon against the Buckeyes that secured the team's destined place. I still have a piece of the stadium's turf in the back of my refrigerator from when we rushed the field. Oh, the troopers at the bottom tried to stop us, tried to keep us in the stands but they knew, we knew, everyone knew what was going to happen. I ended that night trying to catch the last bus home to North Campus after standing outside of Bollinger's house along with a hundred other screaming, delirious fans. Good times.


The next year, '98, promised to be every bit as good. And I bought my tickets and my Michigan gear, got into a group of seats with the friends I'd made watching the game the previous years. Our first opponent that year was Syracuse, a lowly rated team with a star quarterback – some guy named Donovan McNabb - and not much else. Walking to the stadium, my friends and I were giddy. Ecstatic. We taunted the fans wearing orange. Told each other that the Orangmen were meat. Wondered, idly, just how big the margin of victory would be. Then we walked into the stadium. Not to our seats because there wasn't any sitting in the student section. Everyone was on their feet, standing, waiting, cheering.


And then McNabb ran circles around our defense. Passing, running, scoring at will.


A far cry from the previous year's masterpiece against Buffalo. The revenge for the Kordell Stewart bomb, a defensive gem begun with back to back sacks that set the tone for the entire year. No, It was a blow-out. The season went down in flames from there. Michigan, for whatever reason, has never been able to deal with the kind of speedy, option-esque, mobile quarterback. Your McNabbs, your Vicks. And, yes, your Armanti Edwards. I don't get it.


And, more to the point, I don't want to get it. This year's a write-off, already. Football's done a few months early and I find myself with some unexpected free time.

Like A Sexy Hamburger

Well, I don't know about you, but I enjoyed my Labor Day weekend. The weather was perfect for grilling or heading to the park. For pretty much anything else you'd care to do in the wanning days of summer, really. Not so elsewhere, as word from my brother in sunny California is that the temperature crested 110 degrees over the weekend. They're stuck in a heatwave and I took the opportunity to get my barbs in. I consider it only fair because it's only a matter of time before I have to hear about the eighty degree weather and lack of fabric in bikinis at the beach while I'm heading out to scrape a foot of snow off my car.


I hear there was some sort of football contest over the weekend which, were I to acknowledge it, might have ruined my mood. However, I've selectively edited my instance of reality to completely remove all traces of any football program at my alma mater. This took several careful hours of drinking and blunt force trauma to the cranium but I'm largely happy with the results. Ignorance truly is bliss.


We also used the weekend to celebrate my mother's birthday. It actually falls today but the holiday and the promise of a backyard feast of unheralded proportions was enough to unscatter the clan for a few brief hours before the winds took them again. I commandeered a barbeque, the better to foist my homemade chicken basil sausages (The secret ingredient? The barest hint of fresh mint.) on my ravenous relatives. But otherwise it was a pretty lowkey celebration. I spent most of the time running around time trying to get a last minute present together.


Made the mistake of going to Eastland in my quixotic search for the pair of white t-shirts which were my assigned prey (My sister, the other one, treats birthday lists like scavenger hunts.). Just like every other time I've been to that mall in the past five or so years, I was reminded just why I need to stop going there. It was getting bad when I was growing up and Eastland was a quick walk from the halls of my high school and a favorite place to hang after (*cough*during*cough*) classes. Getting rundown and shabby what with stores closing and leaving and all, but by now it's a shell of its former self. And, as my DJ friend would no doubt say, the merchandise has skewed distinctly urban, along with the clientele. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but not exactly what I was shopping for. Still, I had to get something. It probably would have helped if I had gotten any kind of ideas more than 36 hours before the gifts were to be unwrapped. Ultimately, though, I returned from the hunt successful. Benefiting from my last minute shopping with some healthy Labor Day discounts. Or it could have been just clearance price slashing as they try to get the last goods out the door before bulldozing the place, either way I wound up spending far less than I had planned to, in a good way. The surplus went towards a nice assortment of chocolates – also on sale – because you can't go wrong giving my mom some tasty sweets.


Late word out of the ancestral compound of the Pepperino dynasty, however, reports that I wound up getting the wrong sized shirts. I kinda thought I did, but my policy when buying clothes for females is to err on the side of getting things too small instead of too large – anything to avoid the “you think I'm fat, don't you?” speech. This sad state of affairs will now kick off a circular relay of receipts, returns, and rendezvous as my mother descends into the third level of retail hell. Attempt to get the right items and right slip of paper in the right hands at the right store before those shirts become irrevocably, irretrievably, irreturnable. We must, you understand, for they were on sale!


In other words, it was a great break. Came at a good time, too. Things...haven't been good lately. I'm sure I'll wind up talking about it in more detail at some point in the future. For now, though, I've spent enough time worrying about what's been done and undone. I'd rather focus on the positive. Because refreshed, replenished, renewed I'm ready to get back into it.


It's a new month, a brand new day, and I'm anxious to make sure it turns out to be a good one. Black nights behind, brighter days ahead.