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Tycho / on Wed, Mar 5 2008 at 12:46 am

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Bordering On The Semi-Tasteful

Gygax always struck me as a tremendously sinister name:  no mortal name, this.  This was the sort of name one earned in the service of horned devils and more primordial shapes of evil, a boon for the loyal servant, placed like a black crown on the bowed head.   

The first time I ever played Dungeons & Dragons, I was six years old - books with great red demons on the cover that dared us to claim their riches, subtitled by this alien name Gygax.  My mother was furious when she found my uncles had exposed me to those subterranean burrows, spilling over with rubies, and tourmalines, and the wealth of old kings even songs no longer remember.  As a young man, I began hiding the books I bought inside my bed, which had a vast hollow space I had hidden in as a child.  These books were soon discovered, and blamed for everything from recent colds to the dissolution of my parents’ marriage.  I took the wrong lesson, I’m afraid:  I didn’t learn to fear them.  What I learned was that books, some books, were swollen with power - and this power projected into the physical realm.  Some books contain the machinery required to create and sustain universes.     

I owe a tremendous debt to his legacy.  I couldn’t even calculate how deep.     

When the first screens of Battlefield: Heroes dropped, a large proportion of the commentary was devoted to how Electronic Arts had ripped off Team Fortress 2.  This was weird, for a couple reasons: for one, Battlefield: Heroes looks nothing like Team Fortress 2.  It doesn’t.  Team Fortress purposefully avoids comparisons to both authentic war and to the genre of electronic entertainment that has annually mined that misery.  Battlefield: Heroes is either a parody of the Battlefield Series or of

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