Twisting in a wind of words

Fact: I don’t rank video games with our game types; I see digital games and I see tangible games. I have not been into video games since my son who is now 36 had an Atari.

I was vaguely aware of this Gamergate shit when I saw some seminars were cancelled at an event in Austin. I thought they were some sort of electronic bullies or vandals; I had no idea of the misogyny involved. I deplore their behavior; they seem to be a bunch of teen-aged cyber-bullies and assholes. I have not read any of their manifestos, so I had no idea that they had made an otherwise ordinary word used in medicine and science to describe one half of our species into a pejorative.

I think more people that are not male (just what term can I use?) would find a lot of enjoyment playing RPG’s. (BTW, an apostrophe to indicate plural acronyms is correct by all the style books I have followed. It might be changing, but it is not there yet; it is not indicative of the possessive case.) As a former teacher (a real teacher, not someone with honorary degrees and being brought up on sexual abuse charges; thanks for that comparison) I was quite good at crafting teaching aids and handouts, as well as having developed a very effective tool that involved role-assumption/playing  in the classroom.

In my opinion, role playing has become too rules-heavy. Most of the excessive rules are about stuff you may never do or encounter as a Player Character, or only do so after a considerable time playing. In that instance, you learn by doing. I do not like Skills and Abilities ratings for that reason; I am firmly entrenched in the ethos of the Old School about learning by doing and never being afraid to try something. So I figured out a method to boil it down to the basics needed to have fun.

I wanted to run games for only not-males; Jim Ward and Merle Rasmussen have done so in the past and related how much fun they were; I briefly sat in on one of Jim’s, observing. I wanted to try it for myself and thought to accomplish two tasks, teach the basics and run a fun adventure.

Through innocent use of otherwise ordinary words I have offended some people, for which I apologize. I did not know that the word “Female” had been used as a pejorative in a war of words of which I was ignorant. I did not know that offering to boil down the mass of rules was going to be seen as some sinister insinuation that not-male gamers are too dumb.

By restricting to only beginners that were not male, I thought to provide a friendly and fun atmosphere. This is based on classroom experiences; nobody wants to sit there thinking they are missing out on something or the only one not getting it. Frankly, I do not wish to introduce RPG’ing to a bunch of younger males (at least not below 12 or 13); that is based on classroom experience. In that regard, and that one only, you can label me sexist.

I was vilified by someone I do not know in a public forum, instead of being contacted (God knows I am easy enough to get hold of) and informing me of the concerns my listing apparently raised.  Had that happened, I absolutely would have done a quick edit (I sent the same description to GaryCon and have not heard a thing about it except several inquiries about signing up.) Attacking a stranger, in a public forum is a cheap shot, in my opinion. (I do not consider myself some sort of celebrity and am constantly humbled by the people that see me as that); I’m just an old dude that still plays games,  likes to write adventures and was once involved in the beginning of our modern hobby, involved with a minute section of the population.

When attacked, I defend vigorously. I felt I was unjustly attacked and attainted for a word that has more than one meaning and is a pejorative in a tiny percentage of the population. I hope my attacker got a warm rush of satisfaction.

I really am sorry, and a bit befuddled, by all that has transpired over a listing in a convention website. I am not guilty of any of the behaviors that my words have been twisted into, and never have been.

I have been told that the instigator of this likes to stir the pot. I would not know because I cannot recall having met her; I did Friend her on FB when I saw a bunch of mutuals but I probably “know” less than 10% of my “Friends”; there are over 2000 of them. I never even saw her initial post on my Wall.

So what is the “politically correct” term for members of our species possessing ovaries and not testicles? I still intend to call infants baby boys or baby girls; if they change their mind later I will change what I call them.

So, having gotten all of that off my chest, I reiterate that I am sorry some people were offended when they read what I wrote. But this game is still off-limits to males.

Much ado about nothing- PC in RPG's

It seems that I have become the January Whipping-boy for some disgruntled female gamers for a description I submitted for a game I plan to run at TotalCon for ladies only. This is what I submitted

:

For Ladies Only—This adventure is written specifically for the wives, girlfriends and daughters of gamers, as well as those females wishing to delve into the field without a lifelong commitment. It has been boiled down to the basics of role-playing as it used to be: A sheet of paper, some dice, a pencil and some numbers on that paper accompanied by an open mind and a sense of adventure. Ladies, come see what the fuss is about.

Apparently that description makes me something of a misogynist in some eyes. Why?

The adventure I have created sprang from a favor I did for my wife. She came home one night from her Zumba class and asked if I could put together a small adventure for some of the ladies from her class, which I did. The ladies were interested in seeing what all the fuss, or interest, was all about. We had a great time and I think one or two might do it again with others of their acquaintance.

I have been a gamer for close to 53 years. Until the advent of D&D, followed by its many clones, the gaming hobby was at least 97% male. At GenCons in ’74 and ’75, I can recall no more than half a dozen females (not named Gygax) present and a couple of them were clearly either bored girlfriends or an older sister stuck with taking a younger brother for the day. RPG’s came along and the ratio of females began to increase. In all the adventures I have run at all the cons I have attended since 1975, the percentage of females at my table has never, ever, exceeded 30%. (And I am pretty sure I have never gotten a rep for being nasty to ladies, in games or in real life.)

Since 2006, when I got back into the industry, I have been fortunate enough to have been invited to cons all over the US, east of the Rockies. I have had the pleasure of working the GenCon Auction for several years. I bring this up only to point out that I have had a lot of contact with gamers all over at least half of the country—a pretty wide polling sample.

Lots more ladies are now gaming; I think that is wonderful because in RPG play they often bring a different perspective to the table. I base this on my experience running games that had ladies in them. When thinking back about parties that have survived con adventures of mine, I think the preponderance of them contained females. Given that I am noted for lethal games, and given the fact that many con gamers seek a glorious Viking’s death to provide yarns for those left behind, I think the survival of those particular parties is worthy of note.

When I have spoken to many lady gamers I know that do not RPG, but are wicked-good boardgamers and some great minis players, not to mention a couple of chariot racers I have lost to, their most common response to why they don’t RPG is something having to do with being intimidated by “All those rules and rulebooks.” (I paraphrase a little here, but the gist is true.)

When I started my first campaign in 1974, I had the only set of rules for at least eight or nine months, and the only set of “funny” dice for about two months. We had outrageous fun without all the paraphernalia so common today. At my con games, the only things allowed on the table are writing utensil, character sheet, dice and the compendiums of all the OS spells and prayers that I put together. This is what I am rendering it back into-simple fun.

There are any number of other reasons why ladies might be reluctant to “force” their way into what they see as a “guy thing”, or what they have been told is a male thing. Ridicule and snide remarks are the two I heard most often cited; just being made generally uneasy or being made to feel an interloper are others. Some just don’t want to embarrass themselves in a roomful of guys. (Nor would I care to embarrass myself in a room full of ladies.)

(I have also been taken to task for calling them “lady gamers”. A 15 year old girl playing at my table is not a “woman” yet; when she turns 18 she is legally an adult. I would not dream of calling female gamers “girls”, either. I always treat, and refer to, a female as a lady until she proves otherwise.)

So, NO, I do not think all the ladies present at cons are “just girlfriends drug along”, or any other such silly crap attributed to me or my words.

ALL I want to do is offer a safe, fun and easy intro into RPG’s for those of the female sex that might be interested in learning from someone that has been doing it longer than most.

Why do some people see insult and offense when none is meant, or inferred?  The little bit about “lifelong” commitment should have tipped you that I had my tongue at least partially in cheek.

Another question: why do some people take to social media without first talking to the individual involved? How dare they presume what my motives are?

By the way,  I hold a Master's in Education; I am reasonably certain that I know what I am doing.

Gaming in 2015

Gaming, in all its forms, is alive and well going into 2016. The increasing popularity and sales of games of all sorts, but particularly boardgames, is a continuing phenomenon defying traditional models. The last three times boards did really well were during recessions. Hasbro is running ads that entice families to play a game together. This is wonderful; we have known the social value of gaming for decades.

Goodman Games continues to kick butt with their “…Crawl Classic” titles; they have a new Kickstarter kicking off any day now for a post-apocalyptic beauty called Mutant Crawl Classic; I have seen early manuscripts and it is a gem.

Asmodee and Fantasy Flight have combined, which I view to be a good thing as it will strengthen them both. Maybe we will see reprints on what would appear to be orphan titles. ‘15 saw several smaller companies fold their tents and steal away into the night, while other merged, combined or worked out co-op deals to streamline costs.

In 2015 the gaming hobby called out a serial offender on Kickstarter who has now changed his name and is again soliciting money to fulfill things he already got the money for. What a bozo; we’re not that gullible, Ken.

Iron Wind Metals, the spiritual successor of Ral Partha, had a successful KS and revived an entire line once RP’s called Chaos Wars; minis, rules for using them and an RPG adventure I wrote as a stretch goal for them that has bad-guy PC’s.

As 2015 winds down, there are three movies dealing with RPG’s in work, although two are locked in legal wrangling that has been going on seemingly forever. The whole situation stinks; movies do not belong in court suing each other. What bullshit…

Speaking of bullshit, the end of the year saw some very pointed questions being voiced concerning the long-awaited and long overdue Gygax Memorial to which so very many of us contributed. The answers I have seen have been most unsatisfactory; vague, dismissive and illusionary. Questions concerning why the website has been virtually dead since Spring, why there has been no effort to keep the public informed as to any progress or plans—none were fully or openly answered. Other questions have been raised about the legality of actions not taken by the 501-c-3; it would appear that is has been illegally run, not according to the laws and regulations of Wisconsin concerning the transparency of not-for-profits charted in that state.

One reason for the lack of action might be that Gary’s 2^nd wife spent months and 10’s of thousands of dollars to steal Luke’s, Ernie’s and Alex’s surname from them, or at least the free use of their name in anything whatsoever remotely connected to games and gaming; there are dozens of areas; I saw the legal filings. This led to a fracas with Gygax Magazine, where apparently she “graciously allowed” the magazine published by two sons named Gygax. As part of a settlement with the mag and TSR Games, the parent company, she demanded that all parties to the mag and all shareholders in the company sign a thing saying we would never talk nasty about her. As I was the Contributing Editor for the mag, and a tiny stockholder in the company, I was told I had to sign. I essentially told them “that’ll be a cold day in Hell.” My name was removed; Luke and Ernie left the company.

I am baffled at the lack of perspicacity by her, thinking that I would sign away any future journalistic endeavors or rights to speak out whenever I choose about what I choose. But when I think about it a moment, it becomes less of a surprise when I consider that this is the person that pulled every one of Gary’s products off the market upon his death, as well as tried to go around and commandeer anything he had collaborated on with anyone. Speaking impersonally and objectively, anyone with the slightest hint of familiarity with history knows that upon the death of an artist or author the demand for their creations is immediately spiked. For someone seemingly out to milk every nickel out of her dead husband’s name, you’d think she would have milked that cow dry, too. Now she owns the trademark on a brand that has decreasing recognition value with each year. Right now I would speculate that a full 30% of gamers have no recognition of the name; that number increases every year. She killed his final system, the system he was proudest of.  There is a lasting tribute…

2015 Year End Blog

As I have become older I have begun to pay more attention to those end-of-the-year lists of   “…famous or important people that died last year…” that all the magazines and news shows love to compile. I also find myself occasionally looking at the obits in the paper.

A shrink might tell me that I am learning to face up to my own mortality; maybe it is just morbid curiosity. It is an undeniable fact that each year I recognize more names and faces on the lists.

In no particular order, this is a compilation of those departed that had an influence of one kind or another on my life:

Spock—No offense intended to the incredible Leonard Nimoy, but does anyone my age see his picture (with or w/o pointy ears) and think anything else? Yes, he became a skilled director and producer; no, he sucked at singing.

Donna Douglas  --Never again will Elly May Clampett take her critters to the “ see-ment pond”.

Maureen O’Hara – Even when her movies were in B&W, you just knew she was a ginger. Bold, brassy and sure of herself, she bested Errol Flynn and John Wayne, not once but several times.

Anita Ekberg—Just when the hormones began to kick in, I saw a semi-nude, B&W photo of her. She was my second really hardcore crush/puppy-lust actress. (My first was Sophia Loren.) Anita inspired thoughts in my fevered young mind that the nuns would have had to beat out of me had they but known.

Yogi—When I was growing up a White Sox and Cubs fan, I hated the Yankees with a deep and visceral loathing. Every damned year the damned Yankees were in the Series, or so it seemed to the rest of the baseball world, but nobody hated Yogi Berra. His “Yogi-isms” are legion, and many attributed to him not his, but he was always smiling. He was a fierce competitor who really turned it up two notches in the Series, but I still loved it when the Pirates beat them in ’60.

Frank Gifford – I remember the first Monday Night Football broadcast. My wife and I were entertaining another couple, playing cards, when it came on; I don’t think the cardgame was ever finished. Counterpoint to the often-bloviating Howard Cosell and the loopy folksiness of Dandy Don Meredith, Gifford told us what was going on in clear and concise words; that he also had the bona fides of a stellar career in the NFL made what he had to say important.

Rowdy Roddy Piper—Piper aspired to be an actor, not in the ring but on the screen. He was a very popular pro wrassler’, mostly a bad guy but sometimes good, headlining some of the biggest pay-per-view cards. He changed the face of pro wrestling when he got into the feud with Hulk Hogan, involved Cyndi Lauper and ushered in the age of Rock’n’Wrestling. He also appeared in a bunch of movies, mostly forgettable, and several TV shows

Omar Sharif—What a consummate actor, and one hell of a bridge player. When he rides up on that camel from the haze of the desert, who can forget Sherif Ali of Lawrence of Arabia? When he marvels at the crystalline sculpture of the ice on the windows in that frigid winter in Dr. Zhivago, who can forget that intensity? The fact that he was once one of the top bridge players in the world and spoke six languages fluently only added to his cosmopolitan appeal.

Geoffrey Lewis— His was a face you kept seeing in films and on TV; he was a masterful character actor, usually playing a bad guy but not always. He seemed to pop up regularly in Westerns and he worked with Clint Eastwood a lot. I admired the way he slipped in and out of the skins of those characters

James Best—It is a crying shame that Best will most likely only be known to later generations as Rosco P. Coltrane of Hazzard. He was a very good character actor in the movies, appeared nearly 300 times on TV and taught in college after he semi-retired, as well as becoming a respectable painter. Once asked on a talkshow I saw but do not remember the name of, why he had “stooped” to The Dukes, he was refreshingly honest; he said the money was too good to pass up.

Percy Sledge  --I just loved this man’s voice—pure liquid gold.

Rod Taylor We traveled through time and fled the Morloks with him, and we ducked indoors to flee The Birds. He made lots of movies, some good, some not. Taylor was interesting, no matter the film; sort of the old “mans man”.

Leslie Gore—She cried at her party because she wanted to. I don’t know why but that song left a deep impression on me.

Grace Lee Whitney—Yeoman Rand- She only played in 8 of the first 13 episodes of Star Trek, but she left a leggy, blonde impression on us all.

Fred D Thompson—This guy led one hell of a life, and I mean that in the best possible way. He was an eyewitness to history as a staffer in the Watergate Hearings who later became a State Senator for Tennessee for two terms, a presidential contender/candidate and later a TV star on Law & Order. That must have been one hell of a ride.

Robert Loggia—Even though he had 231 TV and screen credits, his was another “face” that you recognized from other stuff. He was in TV in the ‘60’s, nominated for an Oscar in the ‘80’s and continued working until his Alzheimer's manifested. He had a very distinctive, gravelly voice.

Louis Jordan—When he started appearing in American films, suddenly smooth and sophisticated became cool. Clever, good-looking types could win the girl easier than the big “beat ‘em up” dudes could. Manners and charm became important

Gary Owens—I laughed (or at least chuckled) every time I heard his voice, a sort of stereotypical “this is important stuff” spoof. He epitomized, as well as satirized the role of the Studio Announcer on Laugh In. A lot of us wanted to sound just like him.

B.B. King—The man could play blues guitar like no other. His influence runs so deep it is nearly impossible to encompass it all; there are damned few guitarists playing today that have not known his influence, whether they knew it or not. He was legendary for giving new talent a chance to shine; he had Joe Bonamassa opening for him before Joe was old enough to drive. I leave it to future generations of musicologists to measure the depth of his influence I just know that it is HUGE.

Christopher Lee---Where do you start to lost his creds? WWII vet, singer, actor, producer and director, Sir Christopher did it all. He was a consummate bad guy in dozens of roles. He was nearly a stock player for Hammer Horror for years. He made two heavy metal albums and was awarded a "Spirit of Metal" award at the 2010 Metal Hammer Golden God awards ceremony.. While never an avid fan of horror movies myself, his work in the Tolkien movies as Saruman was superb.

Well, hell, that was pretty depressing. But I think it is increasingly important to note not just the passing of time but also the passing of those that helped fill that time with sorrow and joy, delight and anguish, amusement and entertainment. My one consolation? I won’t see my name on any lists like this because when it happens, I’ll be dead.

Tales from The Red Road--Gamehole 2015

I did not go to this con last year with the rest of my partners from Eldritch Enterprises; I was not going to spend 8 hours in a vehicle going to Wisconsin in Nov.; it just seemed counter-intuitive, ya’ know? Wisconsin, November, Winter—not necessarily ingredients for a happy recipe. And I have had to face the fact that I am just too damned old to do these trips alone anymore; too much danger of nodding off on the way home and such.

This year, I had my favorite accomplice in mischief and mayhem for my boon travelling companion, The Mad Mage, a.k.a. Jim Wampler. Jim and I have now made several con treks together but have not yet strangled one another, run out of BS stories or otherwise grown to loathe and despise each other. In other words, good travelling companions not married to each other; a rare distinction, in my mind.

In terms of route, this trip was a no-brainer; I-74 W through Indy and on to Bloomington, IL; from there I-39 N to Madison. None of the crap associated with having to go anywhere near Chicago. (Alas, no Chicago dog at Corky’s, either.) With the construction on the bridges on I-65 being the incredibly horrid situation that it is (poor Lafayette is damned near embargoed) we were not going through that again.

Eight lo-o-o-o-ng hours after departure, we arrived in Madison. (I spent the trip in an elastic, wrap-around  back-brace. I’m not too sure but what it would have been less painful without it.) Good old Dennis got us to the Clarion with no trouble (I have the voice of Dennis Hopper downloaded to my GPS). Jim went off to his solo room upon check-in a couple of floors above where I was rooming with Frank Mentzer in a nice little suite with kitchen amenities. So far, so good.

Now comes the only gripe of this tale. It is true that there was a covered passageway from the hotel to the Exhibit Hall. It is also true that it was one damned long walk. When I go back, which I most certainly will probably do if asked, I am going to look into one of the little motorized scooters like Tom Wham and Jim Ward had; we can have races and pari-mutuel betting.

On Thursday night, the Con had organized a bus for a bunch of us Special Guests (their distinction, not mine) to go out to see the warehouses of ACD, one of the larger game distributors. It was a bit overwhelming as the place is huge; wall-to-wall, nearly floor-to-ceiling games and game stuff. And, we got anything we wanted wholesale. I picked up a promising six-player (Provincia Romana) and an odd little card game about who’s the better person based on the gifts you give at Christmas. (There are six of us in my twice-monthly boardgame group; I am always on the scout for good games for 6.)

When we had sated our gaming appetites, it was back on the bus to satisfy another appetite. We were whisked off to a reception at the Free House Pub where we were treated. Thanks, Alex. There was a time when I could have punished you for that, but those days are long past; I no longer drink like a fish, nor eat like once I did. Alas and alack…

The con had a very respectable Dealer Area, and I saw independent designers with a table all over the place, showcasing their games. The hall seemed to do a good business; every time I could get by it held a respectable crowd. I found another 5-player eeuro-game based on trading in the Med that was marked down 75%. At that markdown, if it is a stinker I am not out so much.

My first game was Friday at high noon. Somewhat out of character I had entered this simple minis game into the schedule rather late in the process, so it did not get much face time and had a scanty sign-up. Too bad, because the few that did sign up seemed to have a good time.

A few years back, WizKids came out with their sailing CSG Pirates (of every body of water we can think of)…. The hook to this CSG (Collectible Strategy Game) was/still is the pretty ships, hundreds of them. The rules were awfully simple (some might argue to reverse those two words), about what you would expect from something this entry-level. In Gygax Magazine #3 I published my upgraded rule set called Master Mariner. [1] The rules could be favorably compared to Chainmail in complexity. The game went well; the two sides swanned about a bit trying to get position, closed and ended it in about a four turn bloodbath. Most satisfying. I have plans to run this game at any con I drive to, and already have plans on how to make it bigger and bloodier.

RPG’ers continue to surprise me in the ingenious ways they can come up with that get them wiped out. I ran three RPG’s: two TPK’s and one survived through my magnanimity. In one of them which I had run at least eight or nine times they found a whole new, never-before-tried way to get slaughtered. Seeing this, all new waus to die, is part of what keeps me coming back to the table, as well as writing.

The con seemed to me to very well run; the organizers seemed to have a really good handle on things. They had a special little refuge for us Guests that was quite nice and very welcome. I saw lots of minis games of various stripes, lots of boardgames, a plethora of RPG’s (some a bit too many too tightly crammed into too small an area), Chris Clark had his Starship Bridge thingy that seemed to be quite popular, there was a special painting area and Dan “the Bard” Marcotte had a Bard Camp set up. (For those that don’t know any better, he’s not some dude wandering around trying to look like a Ren Faire luterist. He writes hilarious songs about RPG’ing that only a player could pen. Check him out online.) The Fight in the Skies Society was very visible (they have a killer banner) and many, many biplanes were riddled with bullets. There was a huge DCC tournament that featured much bloodshed and was enjoyed by all the combatants; one-on=one mayhem reigned.

There were a bunch of seminars and panels going on that had quite a few interesting topics and many, many game authors were present answering questions about their games and talking about new stuff coming.

The consortium that puts together Gamehole Con should all spend a small amount of time patting themselves and each other on the back for a job well done. OK, that’s enough. It was hard to credit that this was only their third convention, so smooth was the operation I saw. I had a hell of a good time, saw old friends and made new ones; can anyone reasonably ask for more from a con?

---

[1] Several years ago I had submitted them to Wizards, where they supposedly sat un-looked-at in two different persons’ file cabinets. When I finally tracked them down, through three different employees (two had left), I was told WotC was not interested. Oddly enough, their last releases and expansions were about 80% of what I had submitted. As far as I am concerned they were lifted from my submission and the Hasborg can try and sue me over them. 

What we really meant—Pt. 1--AC

In recent weeks I have found myself, as part of an exciting new project I have embarked upon, doing a lot of synopsizing what some have come to see as complex or confusing concepts. One example that springs to mind is the old stat known as Armor or Armor Class (AC). In OD&D it was a really simple system that ranked plain old street clothes as AC9, while at the other end of the non-magical spectrum was plate mail and a shield at AC2

If Hit Points (HP) are considered to be your ability to avoid/evade a mortal blow (which they were in OD&D), then AC was how hard you were “to hit” (in this case threaten your well-being to some degree).

“To Hit” is another term that does not exactly mean what it seems to mean based on just the words. Confused yet? Consider “the Mountain” from Game of Thrones on HBO. This is one HUGE dude encased in metal. If three or four puny (normal-sized) guys attack him, chances are that their weapons will actually make physical contact with The Mountain lots of times; this is not what is referenced in “To Hit”. Of those several physical contacts, only a small proportion of them will actually strike with a potential to do actual damage; i.e. pierce the armor at a weak point or joint, or slice or pierce some flesh. Those are what are winnowed out of the combat to be represented by the To Hit number.

Back t0 AC; something as small and ephemeral as a pixie or sprite, or small and quick like a stirge would be somewhat difficult to simply swat out of the air like an over-sized wasp. To simulate that facet of their being I make them hard “to hit” by giving them a very good AC.

(OD&D had a descending AC system starting at 9 and going down; other systems use an ascending system, where 1 is street togs and 7 or 8 is really buff. Readjust this in your head to match your system; the concepts remain constant. Something slow and ponderous, such as a pachyderm, would be easier to strike, but the thickness of the skin somewhat mitigates this as well as the high number of HP an elephant or mammoth might have.)

AC does not always indicate what is being worn. AC is a combination of several concepts, not only the weight of the metal being worn.

To maintain perspective remember this: we were trying to bring miniatures to the table top. Several of the seemingly complex considerations and calculations were second nature to miniatures gamers. We tried to abstract a lot of what was second nature in minis to a whole new milieu—Table-top Role-playing (and this before it was even called role-playing).

Once this concept is grasped in the abstract, it then becomes more clear why extraordinary attributes can affect AC, or otherwise make the PC harder “To Hit”. These same attributes also can grant the PC more HP, all in recognition of how that last, fatal blow is just that, fatal. I have never counted anything more than “dead”; hit 0 HP and you died. Whether or not your PC can be Raised or Resurrected is another matter entirely. We had PC’s brought back from dead several times, although not always with absolute best results.

But anyway, that’s what we meant.

Gamers & Their Toys: Of Dice & Men*

The cliché of the frustrated golfer chucking his putter into a water hazard after a missed “gimme” or wrapping his wedge around a sapling after yet another shanked chip-shot is fairly well known. Archers discard “arrows that miss” (as though they maliciously acted), and anglers will leave an expensive lure hanging in a tree “… cuz it wasn’t catchin’ nothin’ anyhow”.

There is a very old saying that goes something like “It is a poor workman that blames his tools.”

But we gamers do it a lot. Gamers want to feel a mystical connection to their dice; that their dice are “with them” and provide good numbers when needed.

Gary Gygax was quoted several times about dice and our connection to them. The gist of his comments had to do with DM’s rolling dice more for the sound they make than anything else. In OD&D, that can certainly be true. I have often picked up a couple and ostentatiously rolled them to get a quibbling party of adventures re-focused.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far away, I wrote a completely tongue-in-cheek article about dice lice. The wee, tiny critters live in the spots or numbers of dice. They live on dead skin cells and dust, with the occasional comfit of felt or velvet lint. Too much direct sunlight could be deleterious to their continued well-being, so games were better played at night or in the basement. If you were “feelin’ the same vibe”, they would give you the number you need. If you had angered or neglected them, well, whatever happened, you had it coming for the callous treatment of your platonic solids.

While I am not saying it has never happened, I will say that I have never known a bowler that named his ball or an angler that named a lure, nor a carpenter that named a hammer. Hold that thought.

We might have a favorite hammer or driver, or have confidence in a given lure type or color, but that is a preference usually arrived at over time in most cases.

Fishing lures and dice have a lot in common. For one thing, they rely on eye-catching colors. There is a saying amongst us fisherman that new lures first have to catch the fishermen; it requires testing to see if they actually catch fish. The manufacturer only cares that it is purchased. Fair enough. The same is true today about dice; they come in a zillion colors and combinations and are made to various standards. I myself own only one set of dice that I absolutely trust to be accurate; a trio of icosahedrons certified to be accurate by the Japanese Standards Association and manufactured in the ‘70’s.

Lest you think that these weird fetishes are the purview of RPG’ers alone, let me assure you they are not. I used to play Fight in the Skies (now re-titled Dawn Patrol) a lot, and only flew if I had my three FITS dice: two black with white spots and one orange with black spots d6’s. I still favor black dice with white spots and numbers; pouring all those sinister dice out on the table at the beginning of the game is a big psych-out sometimes (along with my thoroughly deserved reputation for TPK’s at cons; it’s like letting the condemned see the axe beforehand).

In Jolly Blackburn’s delightful comic, The Knights of the Dinner Table, the protagonists are sometimes slaves to their own dice and dice superstitions. They name some of them; certain dice types (colors, speckles, streaks, etc.) are considered to be intrinsically classier or better or more reliable, which we all know is bunkum. Don’t we?

What happens when a given die, usually the overworked and oft-maligned d20 (icosahedron), goes “sour” and starts delivering horrid results? I have heard of some rather interesting rituals designed to get back the die’s mojo or punish it.

Sometimes at cons you will see a single die, more often than not the d20, sitting forlornly in the center of an empty table. This is a severe form of “dice-shaming”, as though being exposed to all the con for providing poor numbers on crucial rolls will somehow rectify this behavior. Alternately, they could have been purposely abandoned so as not to infect/curse the rest of the dice in the bag.

Then there are those that resort to capital punishment by drowning, being smashed to smithereens with a hammer and death by microwave radar. The first is pretty much self-explanatory; chuck the offending die into a large body of water. Insofar as drowning, how exactly do you drown something anaerobic? Just askin’…

I have met several gamers that claim to have done variations on the second; some refer to it as decimation, a not-quite-correct usage of the word. The tales go generally that all the dice are lined up/taken out of the bag, the miscreant is isolated and subsequently smashed with a mallet or hammer. One guy claimed to put a few shards back in the bag to “serve as a reminder”.

Not solely limited to SF gamers is death by microwave, wherein the die is bombarded with energy waves until it forms a puddle. Make sure that speckley die contains no metal flakes; they can arc-out the magnetron (according to one tale I heard).

Oddly enough, I ran across a third method to enact dice reform that does not involve any dice losing their existences. The big question for you to answer is: Do you believe bad dice can be rehabilitated? A company called Etched It has presented us with a more humane option; their Despicable Dice Dungeon. https://www.etsy.com/listing/249858884/despicable-dice-dungeon?ref=shop_home_active_1&campaign_label=convo_notifications&utm_source=transactional&utm_campaign=convo_notifications_010170_10683759063_0_0&utm_medium=email&utm_content=&email_sent=1443461274&euid=ZO1vWioH9hRON_3t-5susWXrs_fx&eaid=31138463749&x_eaid=bc279336ff

Disclaimer: I have not met these folks and have no financial interest in their operation. But if you want to tell them you heard about it here, I'm cool with that.

What a clever idea. Perhaps a few days in Dice Jail will bring them round. For serious failures I could see where two weeks in solitary in the bottom of the bag might just do  the trick. Would it not be better for “Ole Rosey” to get a second chance after a stint in the cubical hoosegow than be melted to a puddle of goo? It would certainly be cheaper, because as we all know, if you have a set of “matched” dice, e.g., a 4-, 6-, 8-, 12- and 20-siders all of matching material, the remainder of the set becomes sort of superfluous once it is incomplete.

With all of our harsh reactions when the dice let us down, this offers a more temperate response. Come on, it’s not as though our  dice are inanimate, unthinking platonic solids of various material and compositions incapable of any actions on their own, is it?

*I salute all the ladies that play; you weren’t in the book title I am parodying