I don't play in Gabriel's campaign, and I don't run it, but still I am present. I am there in the eager, thirsting roots of the gravetree, in every primal ululation of some forgotten race. Whenever he runs something by me, I am quick to suggest that it could be substantially more brutal. His group can scarcely believe the stories I tell them about earlier versions of the game, of sundered stats and experience loss and THAC0, when players could win and still lose.

This has gotten out of hand.

We've got a couple conventions coming up here pretty soon. Tycho and I will be at Emerald city as well as Sakuracon, both of which are in April. I'm working on an exclusive poster that I'm hoping the Sakuracon crowd will appreciate.

Dollhouse is not an enjoyable television program.

Episode 2 of our D&D podcast is now live on iTunes and over on the official site. Since we recorded these podcasts I've had the opportunity to not only sit in on a few different games but actually run my own game. One thing I've noticed is just how different D&D is depending on the group and the DM. From hardcore min/maxing motherfuckers, to groups where it seems like the rules get in the way of their acting. What I enjoy about the game is really the table talk. That is to say I like having my friends around the table,cracking jokes and telling stories. My feeling is that the core D&D rules are there for you to use as much or as little as you like. In my game I try really hard to strike a balance between what the rules dictate and what's going to be the most fun. 

We exhibit a curious psychology in our writing: whenever we create a character for the sole purpose of reviling it, eventually we come to see things their way. We have a kind of sympathy for these shuffling creatures, even though their entire purpose is to act as pinatas in some aggressive adolescent fantasy. We want to make their imaginary lives better. The Chuck/Charles dichotomy is a good example, but even the villain Franzibald gets his due: his pathetic works take on a kind of inverse grandeur, and exploring their cursed plain produces a sensation which is not unlike pleasure.

I haven't seen it mentioned anywhere, but checking the game's update log purely for shits and giggles, I saw this:

With Gabriel home sick on Friday, we each purchased Noby Noby Boy independently with an eye toward creating a strip based on it. We agreed to play it for an hour apiece, and then convene our fraternal order to perform the Ritual of Writing.

Five years ago, it was our goal to create a convention that recognized gaming as a cultural event.  We hoped that people would respond to it, but we could never have anticipated the depth of that hunger.  There is a lot of hunger.  

A quick call to Electronics Boutique on Wednesday established a scenario in-line with my own expectations: they did not have the game I wanted, even though it's Street Fighter IV, a product which they could reasonably expect to sell. I half expected to be offered a used one, even on launch day. It's not impossible.

I was really happy to hear so many people come up to the booth at New York and say they enjoyed the D&D podcasts we did. That was my first time ever playing Dungeons and Dragons and I had a great time. People have asked me why I never played before that and I guess I just had some misconceptions about what D&D was. The more I talk to Tycho about what previous editions of the game were like, the more I'm glad I came in when I did. It sounds like a lot of the stuff that might have turned me off from the game was stripped out for 4th edition. Obviously I'm not an expert but my impression after talking with Tycho is that they've made a significantly more accessible game. I think it was the new 4th edition rules combined with where I was in my tabletop journey that made D&D really appeal to me. The tabletop journey I mentioned is actually sort of interesting. I've been thinking about why I was sort of primed for D&D and if you trace it back through the news posts you can see that it starts with Pokemon of all things. 

A preview build of Resident Evil 5 dropped by in the early afternoon on Monday, and before we knew precisely what had occurred, it was time to go home.

In this space, we sometimes describe my party role: social tank. A week away from our regenerative pods here in Seattle offered many opportunities for interpersonal anguish, or even inconvenience, which for Gabriel is roughly synonymous. On at least one occasion, he leveraged a clearly preternatural ability to escape detection by disappearing completely - leaving a log in his place. Does he decide what is left behind, or is the log is an inextricable result of the process?  I will see if he can leave a cheese plate instead.

One of the high points of the New York leg of our trip (alongside meeting a steady stream of interesting new people and devouring forty eight xiao long bao) was attending the dress rehearsal for last week's Saturday Night Live.  Somehow, a reader had burrowed into the core of the organization, and we were able to follow in his bloody wake.

While we were in New York, I made a mental note each time my olfactory apparatus identified a disquieting new scent. Know that today's strip represents deeply abridged selection.  We made the mistake of

Now, it is complete - let us never speak of this again.  Come Friday, expect a sketch on New York, Pittsburgh, Boston, Food, or some other topic.  We're going to put this'a here Tablet PC through its paces.