There's a shop Gabriel frequents for his tabletop needs, even though... well, we'll go into it.

More Precipice again: this time, it's Chapter Twenty. 

We're staunch enthusiasts of Chair's Infinity Blade, by which I mean Infinity Blade. It's almost ridiculously suited "for mobile," equally friendly to the person who has a spare moment and the person who will see the God King slain at any cost. As I suggested previously, it even has a lithe narrative cinch that just flat out works.

I hope that someday, when people describe a personal arc studded with hubris (and, potentially, taut pustules) they will describe it as crunchnerian.

The bleak saga of Dr. Jacob Crunchner continues, and if I had to guess, I would say that there is probably one more strip to wring out of it conceptually. Another way of saying that is to establish that the sort of people who use words like drinkify and snackify without irony deserve to be kicked again, preferably until they stop getting up.

Is now awailable.

People have a kind of reflexive, ironic kata when it comes to the word Orwellian. I can't blame them completely for this reaction, as the term has been deprecated somewhat by its increasing necessity. But it's not his fault that he was ahead of the game, or that he identified the insidious tendency of organizations to warp language.

New year's resomolutions are a tricky business, as recidivism and moral inertia are man's natural state.  But I think I've got one I can stick with this time.

Is available here.  It's been a hell of a week; you'll see some of what I've been up to in Friday's Blamimation. 

I mentioned a while ago that I was going to put my regular D&D game on hold to try something different for a bit. I was feeling a bit burned on on that particular story and I needed a break. I still wanted to DM but my group has fallen in love with Warmachine and so I’ve decided to create a sort of hybrid game.

Monday night has morphed into some runaway Guy's Night anachronism, but if living in the walled complex of this cliche means that I can (with the boundless well of enthusiasm unique to the zealot) wreck robots for hours and hours while absolutely abdicating my responsibilities as a husband and father then yes. I need something, anything, to stave off the black ball of fear in my gut re: annual prostate exams.

Christmas Debriefing.

I’ve always thought it was interesting that in the comic, Tycho maintains his atheism in spite of the fact that he hangs out with Jesus all the time. 

The strip is probably the only place he and I can discuss religion without getting into a fistfight.  His concern (generally speaking) is something we discuss often, though.  I can't get through a ten minute conversation with my own son without loosing a quiver-full of immaculately constructed lies.   If he had any conception how ridiculous, insulting, and arbitrary his shit was about to get, his quatrains would get even more despondent.   

As I've already suggested, TRON: Legacy contains within it a host of discrete films, and positions you can take, so that at the culmination of the experience you can enjoy the film or brood in the unassailable tower of your own intellect. That may sound facetious, that you can either agree with me or be a Goddamned twat, and these are the only choices available. What's true is that there are many valid ways to approach it, and not all of them leave the film entirely unscathed. I can answer any of the questions posed by the strip very simply, but at the same time I don't want to grant a writer something they haven't earned or paper over their relatively straightforward laziness with my own incalculable power. Scott's suggestion that the club represents Flynn's playlist was pretty funny, I thought.