Yesterday, Kate (who’s on Spring Break from grade school) came into my office in the afternoon to ask for a favor. She said there was a “build your own robot” kit on Ebay that she really wanted and could I bid on it for her. “It’s only 99 cents and no one has bid on it yet.”

I said, “How do you even know about Ebay?”

Kate said, “I have my ways,” and gave me a smart assed smirk. Ah, my parenting at work.

Intrigued, I went to Ebay and found the item she was talking about. It turns out she had gone to Ask Jeeves and followed a link to Ebay. And the “kit”, which Kate thought was everything you needed to build a robot, was in fact a book that tells you how to do it. Furthermore, it was written in 1987, so it wasn’t exactly cutting edge. I explained to her that we’d still have to buy all the parts and then follow a book full of instructions to make a crude robot. Then I asked her what she wanted a robot for anyway.

She said, “You know, to get me things. And make me tea and stuff.”

I replied, “Well, Kate, what you want doesn’t really exist yet. You want a robot with a brain that can follow instructions and do what you say. There isn’t a book that can help you build one of those. These robots are more like remote-controlled cars. You can make them move around but they can’t hear you or follow orders.”

Kate, realizing her dreams of a robot butler were perhaps unrealistic, was crestfallen. I tried to cheer her by saying, “You’re only 9, so there is a chance you’ll see personal home robots in your lifetime, just as I saw personal home computers in mine.”

This didn’t perk her up much. The tea-fetching robot Kate wants exists only in her dreams.

I was killing time in a Borders this afternoon while waiting for the next bus to R+C’s place. As I was scanning the new releases, I noticed a book called The Vast Left Wing Conspiracy. I assumed this must be some kind of joke, so I picked it up to take a look. Turned out it was completely serious and the full title was The Vast Left Wing Conspiracy: The Untold Story of How Democratic Operatives, Eccentric Billionaires, Liberal Activists, and Assorted Celebrities Tried to Bring Down a President—and Why They’ll Try Even Harder Next Time.

Under other circumstances, I would have just laughed but after the past five years I really can’t laugh any more. Books like this only contribute to the poisonous atmosphere of American politics these days and spread ridiculous ideas that are the very antithesis of democracy.

Let’s start with the title. The goal of this so-called conspiracy was to “bring down a President.” Sounds treasonous, doesn’t it? Except they tried to bring Bush down by backing another candidate in a presidential election. Oooh, the scandal. How DARE these people even run against Bush. Why the very thought is treasonous! And creating a coalition of people with varied backgrounds but with one goal in common—the end of this administration—that’s not politics, it’s a conspiracy. And get this, they are going to try again in 2008! Someone better tell the FBI about this dangerous development. It seems some citizens still think that there is more than one party left in America. Good thing Byron York’s book is here to set them straight.

The other hilarious thing about this book is that it tries to argue that the “Far Left” has taken over the Democratic Party and that ” this new movement has transformed American politics.” I love it when these right wing fear mongers start talking this kind of shit. Let me tell you something, Byron, if you think that the result of a “Far Left” takeover of the Democratic Party would a push to make John Kerry president, you know nothing about the left, period. As much as the Karl Rove spin machine tried to paint Kerry as some kind of crazed radical, the truth is that Kerry (like all the guys the Dems put forward these days) is basically a centrist. Now maybe from the point of view of the super-right Neo-Cons that makes Kerry “Far Left”, but please.

Again, this would be sad but it’s so typical. Now that the Republicans control everything, they have no one to blame but themselves for the shitty state of the country. How convenient then that people like Byron York can identify new threats like this conspiracy. Even the Republicans realized that continuing to blame all the country’s ills on Clinton isn’t going to wash with him out of office for 5 years now. So yes, fear the power of the “well-oiled political machine they built.” This conspiracy is so well organized and so dangerous that they still managed to lose the election! Clearly, a force to be reckoned with.

The two party system was bad enough. Now even the mild opposition of the Democrats is painted as treasonous. Democracy? How dare we!

My friend Cecil was recently accused of having a “bad attitude” about Star Wars, as if the problem with the new Star Wars movies was with her and not the films themselves. I wrote up this reply and figured I might as well post it here as well:

It’s perfectly all right to have a “bad attitude” about Star Wars. We all earned it by sitting through the shittiness of Episodes I and II. For people of our generation, Star Wars is a big deal. I saw the original 13 odd times in the theater, something I never did for a movie before and certainly never did again. Star Wars tapped into something and we responded. The trouble is that Lucas doesn’t know what he tapped into and maybe he never did. While we all got excited about the new movies and hoped they’d rekindle the same feelings as the originals, we were cruelly disappointed. And it’s not our fault for growing up or what have you. It’s Lucas’ fault for making shitty movies so bereft of good story elements that they seem to exist only to further the sales of toys and computer games.

For the past year, I kept forgetting that there was even one more to go. My interest level was so low it just kept slipping my mind. I was at ComicCon when they announced the title. I didn’t go to the big event because I didn’t care. I only found out when legions of fans began filtering into the exhibit hall wearing the t-shirts. Lately, I’ve been thinking about not even seeing Episode III in the theater. This would have been inconceivable to me 20 years ago. Now though, I feel like Lucas has not earned my money. Why should I give him another $10 when I’m 99% sure this movie is going to suck? And I know I can see it later if I want to, because I have friends who buy every damn thing on DVD and even if they don’t it’ll eventually show up on cable. For me, Episode III just isn’t an event and I feel no particular need to see it debut week or even this year.

So yeah, go ahead and have a bad attitude. The only artists who deserve loyalty are those that earn it. I still love the original trilogy and that was enough to get me into the theaters twice more. But you know what they say. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

Some of you may recall that in the lead up to the election Nik and I went to a bunch of “no vote left behind” type punk rock shows. The headliner of one was Anti-Flag, who actually brought out Congressman Jim McDermott to speak to the crowd. At the time I was amazed that a crowd of punks would cheer a Congressman, even one as progressive as McDermott.

Today I got McDermott’s newsletter to his constituents. On the back page there’s a picture of him posing with Anti-Flag in front of the capitol building. The caption notes that Jim McDermott commended the group on the House floor for their voter education efforts. He added that they were “good kids with weird hair.” I think this must be the first time a punk band has been commended in Congress.

The only other connection between punk rock and Congress I know of is by blood. In the mid-80s there was a great DC hardcore band called Marginal Man, who I was lucky enough to see at the Rat in Boston in 1986 or so. Ken Inouye was one of the guitarists for Marginal Man and his father is Senator Daniel Inouye of Hawaii. The elder Inouye is a World War II veteran of the famed Japanese-American “Go For Broke” unit and a Congressional Medal of Honor winner. I’m going to guess he never commended Marginal Man from the Senate floor though.

A lot of people asked me about the “had my neck slashed open by a maniac in Brooklyn” episode I mentioned a couple of weeks ago. I guess a lot of folks have never heard that story, so I figured I’d write it up for the old blog.

So 10 years ago I spent two months in Europe as a roadie for a French punk rock band named Scraps. That’s a whole other story, but suffice to say we drove all over Europe and played shows in clubs of all sizes, squats, and even a cave. We survived breakdowns, engine fires, skinhead-infested East German towns, and near financial ruin. It was definitely an adventure and one I’m glad I experienced. And on the whole trip I suffered no injuries of serious illnesses.

The final show of the tour was in Paris and the very next day I left for the airport at 6 am and flew back to New York City. I made it to my Brooklyn apartment 14 hours later, tired but triumphant. I caught up with some of my friends and called my folks to let them know I was back safe and sound. Although I could have gone to sleep right away, I tried to stay up so I could reset my body clock. As I was hungry anyway, I decided to get some food. I hadn’t had Chinese in two months so that sounded perfect. Now I could have just ordered in and paid the extra $2 for the convenience. But no, I thought, I’ll just walk down the restaurant and save myself the dough.

This was my mistake.

I walked the six or so blocks down to China House, our usual joint and the eatery that had provided food for us on many a game night. There was a guy lounging outside but I didn’t think twice about that. This was Brooklyn after all. Hanging out on the street is a way of life.

Now China House was a classic NY take-out place with a screen of bullet proof glass between kitchen and customers and only a couple of tables. Their menu was posted on the wall so I walked up to see with what culinary delight I would celebrate my return to NYC. Before I could order, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to see a large Latino guy wearing a scowl on his face.

At this point I was totally out of it. I was jet lagged, I was hungry, and I had just gotten home. And suddenly it felt like this guy was scratching my neck. Then he said, “Come on.”

I was perplexed. What the hell did this guy want and why was he scratching me? Then he scratched my arm and repeated himself. As he brought up his hand again, I finally noticed what he was holding: a box-cutter. And he wasn’t scratching me, he was cutting me open.

He slashed my neck a second time and again said, “Come on.” To this day, I have no idea what he was trying to say. “Come on, give me your money? Come on, let’s fight? Come on, buy me an eggroll?” Who knows? What I do know is that my sluggish mind finally roused itself. I had so far just stood there like a dope and let this guy cut me. Summoning up all my street smarts, I finally replied.

“Do you have some sort of problem?” I asked.

Now obviously, he did have a problem because he was slicing me up with a box-cutter. I believe he was taken aback by what probably seemed like my total nonchalance at being assaulted. He said, “Come on,” one more time and then ran out of China House and headed towards the projects. I was left in the restaurant bleeding.

This incident took place in the afternoon, when the China House staff wasn’t as concerned with security as they would have been at night. They had their security door open and an older woman had been sitting in the doorway peeling vegetables as the whole thing went down. She turned to me after the slasher left and said, “Oh, was that your brother?” Bewildered, I shook my head. My brother and I may not always get along but we don’t generally cut each other up.

I could feel the blood running down my neck by this point and I turned towards the counter. The guy on the other side looked at me and said, “You should call the police.”

“Yeah, I guess I should,” I replied.

“But not from here!” he added quickly. Ah, that’s NYC for you. No one wants to get involved.

Perturbed now, I said, “Well, can I have some napkins to staunch the blood?” He handed me a stack and I pressed some to my neck. Then I walked home, bleeding quietly to myself.

The only person home was the guy I had sublet my room to. He took one look at me and said, “We better call an ambulance.” The meat wagon arrived a few minutes later. The paramedics swabbed the wound, put a bandage on it, and drove me to the emergency room (a 10 minute drive that cost me $500). I filled out paperwork and then took my place amongst a crowd of the bruised, the battered, and the drug-addled. I was in for a long wait.

After an hour sitting and staring, I decided to call my folks again and fill them in. Figured I might as well, since the hospital was so slow. Now bear in mind I had called them scant hours before to tell them I was fine. A few hours home and I’m in a hospital with a cut up neck and arm. My mom, of course, was beside herself. I assured her that the fact I was making the phone call at all meant that I was going to be OK. While I was talking to her, the staff finally started calling my name. It took me a minute to reassure my mom, end the conversation, and get to the front desk. When I showed up, the exasperated nurse said, “Didn’t you hear me calling your name?”

“Yes, I did,” I replied, “but I was on the phone telling my mom that I just got cut up. So sorry to inconvenience you.”

She led me to he ominously titled “Stitchery Room”, where I was left alone for another half an hour. The room had a reclining operating chair, not unlike what you’d find in a dentist’s office. Hanging out there wouldn’t have been so bad except for one thing: they hadn’t cleaned up from the previous victim. Next to my chair was a small moveable tray that was covered with bloody instruments and big pools of blood. That was very comforting I can tell you.

Finally, a doctor arrived and examined my wounds. The arm slash was superficial, but the neck cuts were more serious. “A little bit deeper and he would have cut your jugular vein,” the doctor said. “Then you would have died.”

Well, fantastic!

Luckily, the box-cutter makes very fine cuts, so they were able to close the wounds with butterfly tape instead of stitches. That was done after the painful cleaning of the wounds with burning horrible chemicals, which I really enjoyed after my long day.

Four hours after I left on an innocent Chinese food run, I got a car service back to my apartment. I still hadn’t had a chance to eat. My roomies were home by then and they had heard what I had happened and were of course concerned. The mood on Bergen St. was subdued that night. I’ll always remember Aaron’s response though.

“Sorry you got cut up, dude.”

Yeah, me too, but at least I got a good story out of it (and a nice scar, of course).

Yet strangely, I still miss Brooklyn.

Recently, a new miniatures website launched with rules and background info for running alternate history WWII games. And when I say alternate, I mean the occult Nazis with zombie soldiers variety. Although this is essentially a fan site, it’s nicely put together and includes a well-done gallery showing off painted minis and dioramas. In a thread about the new site, one poster on a minis-related forum had this to say:

How historically correct is this? The models in the background are wearing the splinter camo. The troops that were used in these experiments of reanimation were SS troops. Should the undead be wearing pea dot or another pattern that was more associated with the SS?

Yes, it’s very important to get your camo scheme right when playing with Nazi zombies! And people wonder why historical games continue to struggle.

The first few months of 2005 have been a weird combination of the very high and the very low. I spun into the year having just finished the biggest and most important game design of my career, but there was unfortunately no time for laurel resting. Due to our schedule, I had to jump into the follow-up products immediately and it’s been another several months of go go go as we finished five (soon to be six) support books and accessories. In the midst of that, I had to go on three business trips and deal with some challenging situations in assorted areas of business and personal life. Really, I can’t believe April is nearly upon us. Where the hell has 2005 gone so far?

The good news is that I think I’ve turned a few corners. For one thing, I’m finally settling back into a productive work groove. I’ve been a bit off for the past few weeks, in part due to illness and in part due to traveling. It’s harder to get things done when your routine is disrupted and you’re being pulled in 20 different directions. Since getting back from GTS, I’ve been working on getting a handle on the madness and I think I’m just about there. I can always tell my state of mind by how many unanswered e-mails are sitting in my box. When it gets to be over 60, I know it’s time to knuckle down again. Right now, there are a comfortable 25.

What I could really use is a couple of months of relative calm so I can focus on all the things that need to get done. I don’t have any trips scheduled until the end of June, so maybe fate will play along for once.

Well, another March another GAMA Trade Show. For those of you not steeped in game industry doings, GTS is the only real trade show of the business and it’s held over four days in Vegas each March. This year’s show, which I returned from late Friday night, was interesting. Thanks to UPS and the Riviera’s business center, we had trouble getting our graphics case delivered in a timely fashion. The result was that we had no booth graphics of any kind for fully half the show. Arrgggggh. That was quite frustrating. Luckily, we did have advanced copies of things like Blue Rose and the Advanced Player’s Manual to show off, so it wasn’t as bad as it might have been.

Probably the most exciting thing for me was the debut of Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay, the game I’ve been working on for the past year. Monday night I finally got to hold a copy of the finished game in my hands. It’s really only at that point that you start to feel like all your effort has resulted in something tangible. Simon and Kate from Black Industries were over from Nottingham and they displayed to the book to eager retailers and distributors. The response was fantastic. I lost track of the number of people who said to me, “WFRP looks great and we’re going to sell a lot of it!” The official launch date isn’t until March 29, but getting the book in front of people and seeing their reaction was quite gratifying. On Tuesday Plundered Vaults and the Character Pack, which are shipping at the same time, also showed up and we got to check those out as well. Only a few more days until the worldwide release…

The new facilities for GTS at the Riviera were hit and miss. The actual convention facility was great and much better suited to the show’s current size than the Orleans (the show’s previous host casino). However, everything else about the Riv was poor. The hotel part is badly laid out and hard to navigate, the restaurant options are limited at best, and crucially there isn’t a central bar or suchlike for easy meetings and hanging out. For me, the show facilities trump the amenities, since we’re really there for the trade show. Nonetheless, I did find myself missing things about the Orleans, like the Alligator Bar and their oyster bar. On the upside, the hospitality suite was bigger and better this year and had coffee that was actually pretty decent.

I did not have as much time as I would have liked to check out new games, but in my browsing I didn’t see anything that knocked my socks off. I must say I am well and truly sick of collectible games and licenses based on soulless corporate properties. I increasingly wish that stuff would just fuck off to the mass market and leave the hobby market alone.

Recently, I decided to make my own Muay Thai Day, seeing both Thai kickboxing films currently showing in theaters. Of the two, Ong-bak: The Thai Warrior was the more traditional martial arts film. And by and large that was not a bad thing. High-steppin’ Tony Jaa stars as Ting, a humble villager waiting to be ordained in his local temple. He has been taught Muay Thai (AKA Thai kickboxing) by the local priest but enjoined, “never to use it.” Then a thief named Don steals the head of the temple’s statue of local deity Ong-bak only a week before a festival honoring the god that happens only once every 24 years. And there’s a draught as well! Someone must go to Bangkok, kick righteous ass Muay Thai style, and return the head before the wells run dry. With that, the movie takes off, as Ting descends into the hell of Bangkok’s underworld and many heads are cracked. The filmmakers owe an obvious debt the HK directors of the 70s and 80s but the film stands on its own. Sure, you’ve seen some of the chase gags before in old Jackie Chan movies, but what makes it worth watching is the incredible athleticism of star Tony Jaa. Holy crap, does this guy have the moves. He does stunts like flipping his body sideways in between two panes of glass maybe a foot apart. And although Muay Thai is most famous for its kicking, the move I liked the best involved jumping up above an opponent and then cracking the top of the skull with a descending elbow. In short, Ong-bak (and Tony Jaa) deliver the martial arts goods. And while he may beat up dozens of enemies, it’s OK because they are evil and he’s fighting for Buddha. Dude.

The yin to Ong-bak’s yang is a film called Beautiful Boxer. This movie is the true story of a professional kickboxer named Nong Toom, who fought under the name Parinaya. This is one hell of a unique sports story. As a youngster, Toom was a femme and constantly bullied. He always liked beautiful things and was attracted to makeup. As you can imagine, this made life in Thailand difficult. When he realized he could help support his struggling family with prize money, Toom went to a Muay Thai camp and began to train. The bullying stopped as Toom developed amazing kickboxing skills.

One day his coach found him putting on makeup and decided it’d make a good shtick. Toom thus began fighting matches in women’s makeup, scandalizing the boxing community. There was much debate over whether Toom was really a transvestite or whether it was just an act. Toom announced that once he had made enough money for his family, he would save up for a sex change operation so he could finally be a woman. The tag line of the movie’s poster is, “He fights like a man so he can be a woman!” If someone tried to make this up, you wouldn’t believe it but it’s true. Toom became a huge star, fought in the biggest arenas, and won enough prize money for his family and his dream. He got the operation, retired from Muay Thai, and now has a career as a model and actress.

Beautiful Boxer is a much different film than Ong-bak. While it does feature a number of kickboxing matches, the martial arts isn’t the real focus and the fighting in Ong-bak is much better. The story is center stage here, as it should be, and an interesting story it is. Star Asanee Suwan does a very good job with the title roll, believable going from girlish shyness to dominating fighter scene to scene. Beautiful Boxer is far from a traditional martial arts film but it’s also well worth seeing if you get the chance.

There are certain books that get recommended to me over and over again by different friends. Sometimes, I take the recommendation quickly, like Seymour Hersh’s excellent Chain of Command. Sometimes it takes…a whole lot longer. In January I finally read the Anubis Gates by Tim Powers. I had it in my mind that it had come out maybe 10 years ago. When I was done with it, I looked at the copyright date and saw that it actually came out in 1983, so it took me 22 years to finally read the damn thing (and to the dozens of people who told me I’d like it, you were right). Perdido Street Station by China Mieville is another one. Again, recommendations have flowed in for years. I’ve finally started carrying it around in my bookbag, because I always need something to read on the bus. Well, at the moment it hasn’t tempted me away from Matthew Parker’s engaging history Monte Cassino: the Hardest Fought Battle of WWII, but once I finish that I think I’ll be in the mood for a good novel. I’m pretty sure I can read Perdido Street Station before 2023 rolls around in any event.