Apparently someone said a bad word. Someone did not think of the children, as we are often exhorted to do because they are defenseless human larvae. For our part, we have no authority to discuss coarse language as a social ill. It has been so long since we could genuinely discern profanity from the mass of other words we employ that we're the last people you should ask whether or not a particular word will plant a demon seed in our young.

It's pretty sick, I know, but outside of the odd bit of Call of Duty with the clan all I've been playing is Zuma. I don't even mean that as a recommendation, I'm trying to repent. That's not hardcore. If I was into Gunbound or something, you know, riding around a triceratops, that's got some credentials. You can sort of flex the edgy gamer thing there. But Zuma, I mean... Zuma. It's not something you'd want to bring up at a LAN.

We're working on fully three full-page comic projects at he moment - Painkiller (which Gabe mentioned) has somehow turned out all reverent and biblical, which are words I do not usually associate with the things I write. My cohort has something of an angel fixation, which his handle makes clear, but despite what you might have heard angels don't really lend themselves to humor regarding the game industry. He's taking full advantage of this outlet, producing work of a stupefying sort which further attempts to describe would mar.

The other two projects, I don't even know if I get to say what they are. One of them takes place on an island and the other takes place largely in the dark. I'm not trying to tease you with that data, and by the end of the month they'll both be starting up so it won't matter much.

I finally bit the bullet last night and bought some cards for Star Chamber, hopefully it will shoehorn me off that accursed Zuma. Similar to Magic Online, opening up a virtual "pack" of cards is accompanied by the sound of foil tearing, an audible cue which vibrates on some geek frequency that electrifies the entire surface of my body. I could certainly open every pack simultaneously, I have that option, it says so - but I open them individually, because every time I hear that sound my back arches and I have to grip my armrests so I don't fire off into space. I'll cook up a few decks tomorrow probably, maybe hop online and sample the human competition.

Oh, and don't forget the Van Helsing trailer. My take? Largely inoffensive!

(CW)TB out.

ship it to triple x and set it to awesome

I know I should just ignore him, but it’s hard! He’s so fucking crazy!

Alright on to really important stuff. I moved my xbox downstairs a few weeks ago and I got sick of having a 50 foot network cable running down my stairs. So I picked up one of those Xbox wireless adapters yesterday and it’s awesome. I figured there might be some of you out there who are thinking about getting one of these guys and you might like to hear that it actually works. Not only did they just drop the price by forty bucks but there is an additional forty dollar rebate on it when you purchase an Xbox live starter kit as well. Not a bad deal.

As you know Tycho is the computer dork, not me. I don’t know a fucking thing about networking or hubs our cross over cables. At least when I have a wire hooked up to a wall and the other end going into my computer it makes some sense. I imagine the internet arriving at my house the same way water does. Then it gets fed through a tube into my thirsty computer. The idea that the air in my home is actually filled with tiny bits of internet and that my Xbox is able to latch onto those tiny particles and give me silky smooth online game play with full voice, well it’s a bit too much for me to get my head around. I sat there playing Crimson Skies just staring at the little flashing device perched next to my Xbox, trying to imagine it disassembling my voice and controller manipulations, then firing it up through the ceiling into my access point which then sends it down into my hub and then off to my modem before finally making it’s way into my DSL line. I feel like some ninety year old man mystified by his microwave oven. Come to think of it…what the hell is a microwave, and how does it make my soup so fucking hot? Truly we live in the world of the future!

-Gabe out

I wonder if it’s harder for Tycho to write is news post now, knowing that the son of Jack and Beverly Crusher apparently reads the page regularly. Wesley has made mention of us no less than three times that I am aware of, most recently to comment on our Child’s Play endeavor. It’s just cool to think about him out there on the planet Dorvan V, living with a tribe of American Indians under Cardassian jurisdiction and still finding the time to read PA.

-Gabe out