Worse For Weir
Gabriel “rides” books; he straps in and they take him places. He got in because he wanted to go somewhere and he’s pretty determined to get there. I stopped being able to do that for some reason. Now, I read a book the way a contractor might walk through a house, trying to assess its stability. I’m looking at the joists. I put a laser level on the floor and scrunch up my chin. And then, while the owners look on, I click out the tip of my pen and drop some bleak science.
If he stops reading a book, it means that something fairly drastic happened. He doesn’t pull those straps unless there’s some kind of imminent danger. I don’t know what the reading equivalent is aside from a less than strategic investment of time. The last time he came at me with something like this was with ARMADA, and there might be a point in a piece of media where the fan-service just bio-accumulates, its whorls becoming more and more recursive, until it becomes the tight straps and abrasive ropework of the sex dungeon. I think that’s about where he checks out.
My friend Eric Benson (of Acquisitions Intoxciated/The “C” Team infamy) will be joining me on the couch from 2-4pm PDT for a sponsored stream of Uurnog Uurnlimited, which looks like precisely the type of puzzle-y, retro-lookin’ indie shit I’m into. The last two streams went really well for Weave and One Deck Dungeon, and I’m glad, because I really like doing this kind of stuff.