May 31st, 2012

goat girl

"...beyond estranged time."

Today, I don't actually have time to be making this entry, but, fuck it, I'm making it anyway.

1) For those who missed yesterday's second entry: I've accepted an invitation to be Author Guest of Honor at the 2013 World Horror Convention in New Orleans, June 13-16. This will be my first time in New Orleans since 1999, and my first WHC since 1999. So, first we take Burlington, then we take New Orleans.

2) When not working my sorry, bestial brains out, I've been getting wonderful RP in City of Heroes and Villains. Thing is, I don't actually like the game, but I'm pretty sure the best RPers on the web congregate there. Truly bow-tie stuff, kittens. That said, I am trying to learn to play the game – which is harder than my first organic chem class in college, no fooling. There is no reason on earth why any MMORPG needs to be this unfathomably counterintuitive. Like, if human cognition is based in the use X Logic, this game uses Y Logic. Or, put it this way: Some games are Macs, a tiny number of games are Windows boxes. Having played them all, I'd say that WoW, LotRO, Rift, and Star Wars: The Old Republic, these games are Macs. They are, simply put, intuitive. There's no steep learning curve. For the most part, they just make sense. No convoluted reasoning, no incredibly complex skill sets and builds and whatnot. You can fly by the seat of your pants, learn as you go, and have fun playing the game. Not so with City of Heroes and Villains. Which is, I maintain, a PC (so is EVE Online, but that's another entry). Just trying to master the arcane knowledge required to wend your way through the "enhancement" system is enough to make your head go all Scanners. Pop. Splurt. Head explodey. Point is, I don't want dumb games. But I also don't want organic chem. I want games that are fun to play. And, too, here's ample evidence I'll endure almost anything for good RP.

2) Over the years, I have come to realize that there is a not insignificant number of people who read the online journals of others for the express purpose of waiting for something that will piss them off. I call it Professional Outrage. They pretty much never comment, until you say that one thing that sets them off, and then, POW. Suddenly, they swoop in from the shadows, the questing white knight, and you're all evil and shit. They're St. George on his steed, and you're the poor dragon with a lance through its kisser. Here it's you're LJ (or whatever), but you're the one has to lay down and beg forgiveness and convert and shut up. You could call these folks trolls, but I think it's something weirder than that. Most recently, I've seen the phenomenon in my blog from someone who never said peep – never, ever (though I knew she read the LJ) – until, first, I slammed the whole bullshit Culture of "Trigger" Avoidance. She exploded. I let it pass. A couple of months later, I mentioned, rather offhand, just as an aside, how grotesque and psychologically dubious is "attachment parenting," and it felt like a firecracker had gone off in my ear. So, the person in question was banned from commenting, and I stopped following her LJ. Takes a lot to make me do that. Point is, I just don't get this shit. Hell, I disagree with almost everyone about almost everything almost all the time, but it's extremely rare I ever say anything to that effect in someone else's blog. In short, if you've chosen online outrage as your profession, get a life. Or fuck off. Or whatever. You are, essentially, lurkers.

It's not that I want you never to disagree. It's that when you do, do so with civility and make Reason your guide. I'm wrong quite frequently. Sometimes, I need to be told I'm wrong. Just be polite about it, and do your best to demonstrate why I'm wrong.

3) I'm still trying to make sense of the Washington Times reviewer who dissed Valteri for sounding too much like a Sigur Rós album.

4) Tuesday, the post brought my contributor's copy of Ann and Jeff VanderMeer's wonderful new The Weird: A Compendium of Strange and Dark Stories, which reprints "A Redress for Andromeda," substantially revised for this anthology. It's a huge volume. In fact, I think I'll begin referring to it as "the telephone book of weird fiction" (please hold all the "Telephone Call of Cthulhu" jokes). No shit, it weighs ~2 lbs. I recommend you get the hardback, as it seems a rather unstable (and certainly unwieldy) trade paperback.

Just Another Goat Girl,
Aunt Beast