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I forgot to post my Throwback Thursday art yesterday. It was a hit last week and I intended to do it again but just spaced it. So to make up for it I’m gonna post two incredibly embarrassing pieces of artwork from my past!

I did this first comic book page back in 7th grade. I don’t remember all their names but I know the purple and yellow guy was named Volt.

This second piece was done around my senior year in high school. This was Sam and he was a teenage runaway with the exiled spirit of a disgraced angel living inside him because…high school.

Please direct all public shaming to my Twitter account.

-Gabe out

Tycho / 3 days ago

Gavin came up with AirDND at lunch, and it was too good to leave on the table.  Utilizing long-forgetten alchemical techniques, including those we have transmuted this notion into a comic strip.

I feel like I’m too new at Destiny to tell you anything of import about the new expansion; I’ve had a few lucky Crota drops, that’s the extent of my career as a Guardian.  I’m the inheritor of all the creature comforts and improvements you and Gabriel had to suffer through, I never knew the worst of it.  I know that when the game first came out, if you died while in a Darkness Zone not only did you have to restart from the checkpoint, you were also forced to order off the kid’s menu.  It’s terrifying stuff.

No, all I have now is that relentless, smooth loop, of which the Prison of Elders is a good example - and between the novel loot structure and the round modifiers it’s filling a very specific role in the experience.  I keep trying to sell my compatriots on Trials of Osiris, but they’re not super into the PVP, which I kind of get.  I’m not super into the PVP either.  But I am into gambling.

What House of Wolves means primarily is that I haven’t gotten more than twenty consecutive minutes into The Witcher 3.  I’m missing out on all the fun!  I have read a lot about sub-par foliage, including CD Projekt RED’s thoroughly human response to it.  Judging from the scores, the game is apparently cool even in the presence of these lackadaisical shrubs.  But… I did essentially put another computer’s worth of parts inside my computer to play this.  I’m trying to figure out if that makes me dumb, or if there’s some way I can blame them for this.  They’ll have a much easier time when they use this engine for Cyberpunk 2077, no doubt; in the grim darkness of the far future, nobody can afford decorative plants.

That said, I haven’t even had to opportunity to scoff at some less than ideal sunflowers.  I’ve been waiting for it a long time, so much time that I’ve become very good at waiting for it.  Now it’s like I need the mood to be right, just right; candles and shit.  I have felt like this before, that there was some proper celestial configuration which must act as a prerequisite, and I can tell you where that policy has lead previously: it leads to a universe where I never actually play the game in question.  I can’t let that happen this time.


Tycho / 4 days ago

PAX Q&A Question Sumbissionz

Ask us questions, anything you want, completely asymmetrically!  This is the new ritual for the Q&A panels, and it has made them diamond-dense with premium info.  Drop a Q in there, and we will deliver an A several months hence.


Tycho / 5 days ago

The strip is hyperbole, I mostly felt like the perspective needed to be made available.  I find the show very hard to watch right now, though; I guess it partly has to do with content, insofar as it’s just the weight of it.  Hitting play on that show right now feels like rigging up a Sword a Damocles and then sitting directly beneath it.

There are times when I do want to feel pulverized by a work.  I read 1984 annually, and the sensation is that of two granite blocks being brought into proximity with one another until I am destroyed.  I don’t really feel like it right now, I guess?  By the time I sit down at night, I would prefer to be submerged in marshmallow cream.  Metaphorically.  My construction is such that I’ll long for the lash before long, certainly.  But right now I’m on kind of a lash break.

The increasing daylight between the versions of Game of Thrones, which we might call Games of Throne, was always going to create trubs.  Peter Jackson knows all about it.  In 2015, treating the creator of a work as though they are a person of any import to the work, or that their intentions even matter, is outre - indeed, it hasn’t been cool for nearly a hundred years.  The optimal way to experience work is to be exposed to it, like a pathogen, and then to writhe, thoroughly asphyxiated.  But if you were curious for some reason what George R. R. Martin thinks about his work being forked, perhaps because you’re a hopeless reprobate, he has spoken on the matter with clarity.  Particularly interesting is the idea that both stories end the same, even if they run solo for awhile.  Huh.

I am beyond tantalized by the idea of a narrative as a rhyzome, where an author gives someone a piece, and they grow their own version of it.  This happens in fanfiction all the time, of course, but it is rarely granted imprimatur and is generally considered to have a distinct odor.  “Intellectual Property” that “protects” work is like a checksum that governs even healthy divergence.  When I think about “standards” (definition 9), as in folk or jazz, it’s just sort of understood that the strange curl of the song exists in the ambient air of our culture, and performers sharpen themselves against it.  Stories operated like this once, also.


Tycho / 1 week ago

I talked about it on an upcoming podcast, but I absolutely did wholly extemporaneous open poetry readings in a Converted Church Goth Club Coffee Shop Arcade Basement.  Shit’s real, kid.  I was all about that stuff.

I think I might still be, with the poems.  I was always a very safe kind of rebel.  Even my excesses were contained within firm parentheses, and tax deductible (when possible).

I destroyed almost all of it, though, in an effort to assert that the version engaging in the destruction was the version that had primacy.  I think Brenna might have some of these artifacts in a box at her parents’ house; I should see if I can get my hands on it, but we have a strong cultural prohibition on the opening of ancient, mysterious boxes.

Oh!  And the first panel is also true, or true in spirit at any rate.  People who use DMT refer, with startling regularity, to a single shared hallucination: that of an encounter with incredibly pissed off multidimensional snakes.  These snakes are fucking mad.  This isn’t something I have experience with, so I’m working second hand, but these resentful snakes don’t like it when you show up at their snake house or whatever.  Apparently, they’re like “WHY ARE YOU HERE” and “THIS ZONE IS DESIGNATED SNAKES ONLY.”  I’ve been surprised to hear a similar shared hallucination from young men about the precise location of the vagina.  Not only did most of them think it was in the wrong place, a place it most decidedly is not, they all seemed to think it was in the same wrong place.  I mean, they didn’t think it was on their neck or anything.  It was close enough to where you could get back on track pretty fast, with only a quick, “Yup, that’s exactly where I thought it was.”


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