I know that I said I would be done with the Pikmin contest at least a week ago, if not more than that - and I would like to pretend that I'm sorry, that would be the right thing, but for a host of reasons I can't even mimic contrition. There are a few main hurdles, not so much hurdles as giant dams, that have impeded the process.
Someone sent me a picture of their shit
I found that pretty vile. I don't know what universe you hair-coated mongrels dwell in, but the one I live in - and you should really check it out - is one where when a person tries to give you a videogame, you do not send him a picture of your shit. Or send me a naked picture of a young man. Or, and I am not joking, photographs or drawings of your "Flesh Pikmin." When I come across something like that, I seriously considered pawning these copies of Pikmin and putting the proceeds toward a firearm I could use to make myself die.
Fikmin is the scourge of man
When I said Text Description, I did not mean Pikmin Fan Fiction, or "Fikmin," written from the perspective of Olimar or Louie or a Bulborb or whatever the fuck else. Multipage treatises where you hold forth on Pikmin culture are one thing, and I did not disqualify you for doing so. One some ridiculous level, I'm honored that you would expose yourselves to this degree. Next time, don't expose so Goddamn much.
I understand that your green Pikmin is meant to represent marijuana
You don't have to beat me about the head and shoulders with it. I must have gotten three hundred of these. I can see the leaf you have drawn, I'm familiar with the plant you're obliquely "reefering" to. Without going into too much detail, I know why the quick cash option at an ATM automatically dispenses forty dollars.
That isn't to say that absolutely every entry was an affront, far from it. But imagine eating a cookie where every other bite contains a human tooth. Even if you really like cookies, you might wait a bit before returning to it.
In Sculpture, there are some very noteworthy entries. We have Pikmin of perhaps questionable political views. We have adorable, petite Pikmin. We have Nemesis Pikmin, who stalk their foes relentlessly. There are also the monstrous, alien Pikmin observed on LV-426, as well as slavering undead Pikmin whose hunger is eternal. Especially compelling was Eyes Five's alluring but deadly medusa Pikmin. There's also this, the only carved entry, but since it is carved from a human femur bonus points have been awarded. Simon Fraser attempts to appeal to my affection for Warhammer, but is rebuffed! That leaves us with Scott Richard's devastating Wickmin composition and Sara Black's mechanized horror, which I can't decide between, so they both win.
There are some quality entries in Images, too. Behold the unstable Prikmin, or the delicious Cocoa Pikmin. The Akira-inspired Supreme Being Pikmin devastates foes - and you will one day learn to fear Tan Pikmin. There are Zombie Pikmin, as well as Dark Pikmin who growl and shudder in the night while Necromancer Pikmin raise a dead legion in the service of dark gods. There are Pikmin who you could rightly call "juicy." There are Bondi Blue Pikmin with impeccable taste, Covert Pikmin entrusted with the survival of the free world, and Pikmin whose buds know only hunger. Consider, for a moment, legendary vampire slaying Pikmin, or Pikmin refugees from other games. There's also just some Pikmin who don't have much to offer, I'm afraid - and that's sad, nearly as sad as the loneliest Pikmin of all, come to think of it. Michael Firman covers virtually every other type. He turned in an excellent performance, and he will win a copy. However...
One fellow sent me a series of Pikmin, which I call "The Derek Jensen Collection," that consists of no less than six discrete species. He's got some cool ideas for how they'd play out in-game as well, and that's something I would like to recognize.
In the text department, as I've told you, there was much in the way of storytelling within the strict confines of the Pikmin universe. Before, I might not have thought there was really room for it. I loved Nick Kloiber's take on Green Pikmin which could be thrown into stacks and used as bridges and ladders - motherfucker gets a copy for that. On the other hand, Trevor Bab's brooding prose on the topic of Dark Pikmin is so ridiculous that I have no choice but to reward it as well. I want to live in a world where immediately upon writing a short story about baby plants that hum with ancient evil, you are richly rewarded by a man in a distant city you have never met.
(CW)TB out.
to train them is my cause
When I couldn't find the information I needed from my peers I decided to hit up the medical sites. I typed in a few of his symptoms on a baby check up site and clicked next. The screen then displayed giant bold red text that read:
YOUR BABY HAS A SERIOUS BREATHING CONDITION! GO TO THE HOSPITAL IMMEDIATLEY!
Well shit! So at 2:00 am I bolt into the bedroom and start looking for some pants. I don't care how sick your baby is, you can't go to the hospital without pants. At this point Kara wakes up and asks what the hell I'm doing. I explain that our baby is dying and I'm rushing him to the emergency room just as soon as I can find my Goddamned pants. She picks him up and asks if I'm talking about the wheezing. "Of course I'm talking about the wheezing, he's probably got a pair of collapsed lungs!" She pulls out what looks like a baby turkey baster and sticks it up his nose. She spends a few seconds sucking guck out and then returns him to his crib. I stare in awe as he lays there breathing clearly for a minute and then falls off to sleep. "He had some snot in there" she explains. Then she rolls over and goes back to sleep. I stand there in the middle of the room, still pants less and silently curse the internet.
The Childs Play site received a much needed re-design from a very talented fan. The new page also has a section for people looking to help spread the word about the charity. You can download flyers and banners in all kinds of different sizes. We're working on implementing a system that would keep a running tally of the total money donated in cash and toys for each Hospital. I know many of you have no particular preference on which hospital you donate to and you would like to make sure your contribution goes to the one that needs it most. That is a feature we should have on the site soon.
A few people have asked to see a larger version of the new Guild Wars ad I drew. So here you go.
-Gabe out
God damn, you guys. Between this and the five thousand you raised in the Hypothermia raffle - a feat that required a donation every minute and a half, for an entire day - I don't know what to tell you. It's profoundly motivating. I want these hospitals to get so many toys that the people carrying them in are themselves injured, and will require treatment.
(CW)TB
a) so embryonic that they should be kept a secret, early, raw, unripe,
b) so heavily scripted that it amounts to new millennium digital puppetry, plotted on some distant point remote from the interactive realms we associate with, well, games,
c) or introduced by some idiotic chirping gorgon with no knowledge of the game or, indeed, of any civilized subject
that you sometimes wish you could recline on a red couch in a white room somewhere and die.
Of course, and please don't get the wrong idea, this has nothing to do with The Witcher itself. It was introduced to me by serious, capable young men who clearly mean what they are doing. I'm just saying that a person's hard work probably deserves a less arbitrary, less batshit venue for its introduction, the annual rituals of the publishing world notwithstanding.
To this day, I sometimes punctuate the silence while I am driving or loading my plate at an Indian buffet by saying "the Witcher" in an overwrought and ridiculous voice. On the phone with Gabriel (TE) earlier today I did it, noticing that some new screenshots had gone up over at 3Dgamers. This lead into a discussion about the name of the game (and the book series, coincidentally) that we found sufficiently ridiculous.
Brenna and I moved into our first house on Saturday, and it is becoming apparent that there is a skill tree associated with men that I have never invested so much as a single point in. There is, as well, as a whole range of specialized equipment I don't have, either. These personal deficiencies have unsealed hideous new avenues of marital strife whose geography is desperate and treacherous. Let me confide in you that your wife may one day hold forth on the subject of lawnmowing, when you know for a fact is not a subject on which she has any keen insights. She will hold forth in grim tones as though she were the Mowmaster General, relating with drama and grandeur her exploits versus those despicable forces which conspire against lawns.
(CW)TB out.
the stale taste of recycled air
You will also find a shit ton of other Penny Arcade related merchandise in our store. It's the perfect gift for the reclusive, game obsessed prick in your family.
-Gabe out
You should make a shirt for your store like the one Gabe has. all yellow with Pac-man.
I'd pay like a billion dollars for one of those. or, y'know... four... somewhere between four and a billion, anyway.
Yeah, you should make one of those.
It's nice of Alex to offer us a billion dollars for making such a shirt. That money would certainly come in handy when Namco decided to sue us for copyright infringement. There is just no way we can sell a shirt with Pac-Man on it. Trust me, we've tried to contact Namco about it. As it turns out they're kind of a big company and most of the people in charge not only have never heard of Penny Arcade they also don't speak English. Makes the negotiations kind of difficult.
-Gabe out
