Biomass Engine of Destruction
You should really command-q your browser and go back to writing.
War robots powered by dead bodies. Who knew biomass could so cool? Sci fi got scooped on this one.
Reposted from Marce Rockwell.
Along the same lines of disturbing/fascinating is the Legend of Red Shorts, a video where a skateboarder is threatened with a gun and then proceeds to beat the gunman up. I won't embed the video here because of the content and I can't help but wonder about the context, but I'd love to hear your thoughts.
Gen Con Count Down
Less than a week to the big show. One of the best things about Gen Con is getting to see friends from around the world. Be they old or new, for me the Gen Con experience is about friends.
This year we'll be missing folks. It makes sense, given the economy and life, but the con will be less for their absence.
This year my schedule is less about working the booth, and more about running games. I'm a one man conversion army, out to demonstrate that you can role play with 4E. My first Gen Con I ran 4 games and lost my voice by Saturday night. Running on high octane caffeine and no sleep will do that.
This year, I'm hoping to come out of this one with both a voice, and the energy to do some skating with the boys ...
"And you may find yourself
living in a shotgun shack ..."
Been out of touch the last couple weeks, ranch-sitting in Wyoming, and now traipsing across the East Coast. In less than a week I'll be headed to Gen Con in Indy for the big event of the year, and then it will be back to Colorado to get caught up on my clean living.
In the last 2 weeks we've branded cattle, stayed in a colonial house in old Nantucket, paddled off the coast of Maine, fixed windmills, and now I'm headed to the convention of the year to run games and signings.
I'm dumbstruck by my good fortune. This isn't me, this isn't my life. To be surrounded by people I love, and to have the privilege to travel and stay at these places just seems out of synch to me. There's something to be unearthed here, but I only notice it when I'm away.
There is a very familiar part of me that is much better suited to simple things: downing trees with an axe and saw, riding home in the back of a pickup truck. Sophistication doesn't come naturally to me, so I demonize is to preserve my sense of self, when really what is called for is growth. This is the curse and blessing of the country boy.
And of course, this is true of everyone, in every time. Your strengths are your weaknesses.
I know I'm not making much sense, but it's a blog, so that's fine. Consider this my postcard from the beach, a bewildered note from the wilderness of one man's mind.
"And you may ask yourselfHow do I work this?
And you may ask yourself
Where is that large automobile?
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful house!
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful wife!"