Well, what did you expect?

It’s a very busy time of year at my job, and the main thing getting me through it is the fact that we finally rid ourselves of the most toxic member of the staff. Over the past year and a half, this guy–let’s call him Chungus, because seriously fuck this guy–has stuck around despite making the lives of everyone else in the office miserable. No indoor voice, no sense of boundaries, no concept of what’s appropriate for a work conversation. He probably only lasted that long because he’s related to someone on the board. Yay, nepotism (not today’s word).

And lest you think I’m being too harsh toward someone whose worst crime is having a voice like if Rocky Balboa was a frat boy, and a laugh like Woody Woodpecker with a traumatic brain injury, there’s also the fact that Chungus was caught driving drunk with a loaded gun in his car, which he may or may not have had a license for. But even that wasn’t what finally rid us of him–no, that happened after Chungus got drunk again and started harassing one of our female coworkers outside of work, and she filed a police report. At which point, I really have to ask, just what did you think was going to happen, you stupid prick? And that brings us to today’s word.

query, verb – to ask a question (also noun – a question, itself)

Learned from: Space Rogue (Apple II, Amiga, Atari ST, Commodore 64, PC, FM Towns, Macintosh, PC-9801)

Developed by Origin Systems

Published by Origin Systems (1989)

Most people, if they’re familiar with Origin at all, probably know them as the developers of the Ultima games, but they did have other credits to their name. The Wing Commander series (which I’ve sadly never played), is probably the best-known of their other projects, but they had the odd standalone title here and there, too. Space Rogue is one of those, and for being a one-off project, it was surprisingly ambitious.

You start as a crew member aboard a ship that was sent to investigate a distress beacon (if memory serves). While you’re out on a spacewalk to investigate the small, derelict vessel, aliens attack and destroy the ship you flew in on, leaving you alone and in command of the abandoned ship you were sent to find. From there, you can…well, kinda do whatever. Try to discover why your other ship was attacked; become a pirate; learn the economies of various star systems and try to become rich as a merchant; help a robot find love; wile away your time on the game-within-a-game you can play on various space stations; just explore the galaxy, wherever the wormhole network happens to take you; etc. and so on. Space Rogue was an early example of what we think of today as an open-world sandbox; there’s no right way to play, and the story is largely optional if you want it to be. Exhausted everything to do in one star system? Pilot your way through a wormhole, and query your computer for points of interest where you end up–there’s always something new at each destination.

Speaking of the star systems, kudos to the development team for trying to account for actual physics and space hazards. Wormholes aside, planets would move in their orbits as you plotted courses to them; velocity was constant unless you fired your thrusters; inertia in dogfights felt believable; radiation and space debris were real concerns; you could crash if you tried to land too fast at a space station–this was impressive stuff for a game with 4-color CGA graphics that came on a couple of floppy disks.

The free-form open universe felt a little too open to my 7-year-old self, and I don’t think I ever beat this game, insofar as there was a way to “beat” a sandbox, sci-fi space adventure. But it was certainly different from anything I’d played at the time, and it left an impression on me, even all these years later.

*Look* at this guy, like he’s getting ready to drop Aldeberan’s hottest album of 1989.

Are you ready for some football?!

I’ll take “Questions I am almost guaranteed to answer ‘no’ to,” for $800. It’s Super Bowl Sunday, which I only really know because some people at work haven’t shut up about it for a week. And in case the fact that I’m sitting here, posting about nerdy crap isn’t enough of an indication, I really, really don’t care about football. But that wasn’t always strictly the case. Which brings us to today’s word.

forfeit, verb – to give up, to admit defeat

Learned from: Mutant League Football (Sega Genesis)

Developed by Mutant Productions

Published by Electronic Arts (1993)

Throughout my life, sports have never really appealed to me. I’ll make the occasional exception for hockey, because it’s so fast-paced, but for the most part I never saw the appeal of watching a bunch of guys spending 3-4 hours throwing a ball to each other, or smacking it with a stick–but mostly standing around between plays. Especially when video games offered spaceship battles, dungeons filled with monsters to fight and treasures to find, and countless other things that were actually interesting. So if anything was going to make football at all noteworthy to me, it was going to be video games.

Enter Mutant League Football, a game that still might not have shown up on my radar if not for the surprisingly robust ad campaign it had. There were full-page magazine spreads, and even mock trading cards for the players you could cut out if you wanted to (I can neither confirm no deny that I did this). But suddenly, football wasn’t just a bunch of dudes running into each other, trying to move a ball a few yards for an entire afternoon; it was skeletons and aliens running through stadiums pockmarked with craters and strewn with firepits and land mines. I miss the days when Electronic Arts was (believe it or not) a pretty experimental company, willing to take chances with ideas.

I credit Mutant League Football with the fact that I know the rules to the sport at all–even if the real game doesn’t let you murder the refs or the other players, and games in the NFL generally don’t get forfeited for one team’s roster being too depleted to put a full line on the field. The fact that I rented this game more than once is a testament to how fun it was. I’d say I wish the franchise would make a comeback, but I guess we do have the Warhammer-derived Blood Bowl now, to fill the gap. Maybe I should give that one a try sometime….

Look at this gloriousness! The football has *spikes* for crying out loud! How could I not be interested?

You can’t win if you don’t play

It’s Christmas Eve, and since I have the day off, I thought it would be a fine time to do an update. I couldn’t think of any seasonal words off the top of my head, but I and the gents over at the Friends Occasionally Not Disagreeing podcast recently took a look at the indie smash hit, Balatro, which made me think back to a much, much older poker game I played as a kid. It’s back-to-back Intellivision games with today’s word.

ante, noun – the minimum bet required to play a round of gambling;

verb – to put forth the minimum bet required to play a round of gambling

Learned from: Las Vegas Poker & Blackjack (Intellivision)

Developed by APh Technical Consulting

Published by Mattel Electronics (1979)

People sometimes make a fuss about how loot boxes in games today are essentially gambling, but when I was a kid growing up on the mean streets of Not Having A Nintendo, I was learning the ropes of actual gambling. And I know “ante” generally refers to card games, but I’m stretching the definition a bit, considering you also need to pay before shooting craps, or spinning a roulette wheel.

Las Vegas Poker & Blackjack was never my favorite game on the Intellivision, but I did spend plenty of afternoons alone or with my father, trying to beat the dapper, yet shifty-eyed dealer at his own game. The game offered blackjack, and several variants of poker, all of which I ended up with at least a working knowledge of, while I was still in elementary school. Despite this early exposure, you might be relieved to know that I did not grow up to have a gambling problem. Maybe being introduced to card games at the same time as games where I could shoot aliens, or explore dungeons showed me there were more entertaining options out there. Compared to fighting monsters and venturing to different worlds (or, decades later, playing a roguelike version of poker), the prospect of sitting in a smoke-filled room with a bunch of strangers and (likely) losing all my money seems downright boring.

Come together

Hey, it’s been awhile. Sorry about that. Life’s been kind of crazy lately, but what happened last night really takes the cake. I’m not going to make this post overly political, but it’s undeniable that in the aftermath of the 2024 US election cycle, a lot of people are feeling lost, angry, scared, confused, etc. It really does seem that our political system is fully off the rails, and in times like that, I think the only thing any of us can do is refocus. Concentrate on yourself, and the people closest to you: your friends, family, neighbors, and try to do what you can to make their lives better, as well as your own. In this case, I count whatever small audience I have for this blog as part of that–and neither education nor entertainment are ever a bad thing. If nothing else, it’s a lot better than getting swept up in an endless wave of negativity.

And, in a very tangential way, that brings us to today’s word.

pool, verb – to aggregate things into a common supply

Learned from: Advanced Dungeons & Dragons: Champions of Krynn (Apple II, Amiga, Commodore 64, PC)

Developed by Strategic Simulations, Inc.

Published by Strategic Simulations, Inc. (1990)

Champions of Krynn played by old school, 2nd Edition D&D rules, where a lower armor class was a better armor class, you had to visit a trainer/mentor to level up, and I’m pretty sure they included encumbrance, where carrying too much incurred severe penalties. This, if memory serves, included money. Because metal coins get pretty heavy after awhile.

Enter the pool option, after combat. Selecting this would combine all the various bits of copper, silver, gold, etc. dropped by enemies into one big pile, which you could then disperse to your individual party members as you saw fit, without having to do quite so much math.

Small concessions like that, automatically assigning XP, and calculating THAC0 for you made the game somewhat more accessible for a seven-year-old than the tabletop version, but it was still a pretty dense game. I don’t think I ever did beat it, but it was still my first real introduction to the hobby of tabletop roleplaying games–a hobby which I hold near and dear to my heart to this day.

And on that note, if you’re struggling with current events, there might be no better time to try out the hobby for yourself and your friends. If fantasy isn’t your thing, there are systems out there that tackle sci-fi, horror, the wild west (with or without zombies and such), or even where you play as a crack team of vampire commandos on a mission to drain Hitler’s blood during WWII. If this world sucks, there’s nothing wrong with finding solace in another one.

Tabletop RPGs really do offer something for everyone.

Jinkies

The 1990s were an interesting time in the United States. The “Satanic Panic” of the ’80s was dying down, but panic over AIDS and street crime was kicking into high gear. Sleeping with an intern was somehow enough to trigger impeachment hearings for a sitting president. The “war on drugs” was unironically going full-steam ahead, and even before the “war on terror” kicked off, the military was beginning to dabble in wars–excuse me, “military operations”–for oil. And despite all the chaos and absurdity of that decade, looking back at it, those were simpler times. Which brings us to today’s word.

jink, verb – to abruptly change direction

Learned from: Desert Strike (Genesis, Amiga, Game Boy, Game Gear, Atari Lynx, Mac, PC, Super Nintendo, PSP)

Developed by Electronic Arts, Foresight New Media (PC version), Ocean Software (Game Boy version)

Published by Electronic Arts (1992)

Operation Desert Storm, the quick assault on Iraq after they invaded Kuwait, was the first thing approaching a war that kids in the ’90s were really exposed to, and to say that it captured the public consciousness is an understatement. I mean, just look at how many platforms this hastily-coded game released on. Still, despite capitalizing on a contemporary, real-world conflict, Desert Strike created a splash (and several sequels) for good reason.

First, it was different from pretty much everything else on the console market at the time, with impressively large maps and complete freedom of movement. Desert Strike wasn’t really a shmup; it was slower-paced, the levels didn’t auto-scroll, and you could move your helicopter forward, back, left and right, and even jink on a dime to try and dodge projectiles. Add in a decent array of weapons and enemy vehicles, and the experience was really quite memorable.

I couldn’t really see something like this getting released today, for a variety of reasons: the problematic game-ification of a questionable military assault; giving the leader of a fictitious Middle Eastern country the name “Kilbaba”; etc. But like I said, simpler times.

Also, back then we used to at least *pretend* we were fighting against tyranny…

Trundling through life

So, there’s a little game called Dredge, that’s coming out in just a few days. It’s kind of like if H.P. Lovecraft wrote Animal Crossing: You find yourself on an island, and your boat is wrecked. The townsfolk there are willing to loan you another vessel, on the condition that you pay for it by fishing…totally normal fishing, and not trawling the seas for unnamable horrors that might drive you mad before your debt is squared away. It sounds like fun. And to try and get in the best mindset for it, I’ve spent the past week or so reading classics like “The Shadow Over Innsmouth,” watching movies like The Lighthouse, and digging through my Steam library for nautical-themed horror games. Which brings us to today’s word.

lollop, verb – to move in an unsteady, clumsy fashion

Learned from: Hunter’s Journals: Pale Harbour (PC)

Developed by Grindwheel Games

Published by Grindwheel Games (2019)

The Hunter’s Journals series apparently comprises five games, casting you as a monster hunter in a variety of different settings–a monster hunter who, despite the game’s assurances of your skill and renown, seems quite likely to die at the slightest misstep or lapse in judgment. At least, if Pale Harbour is any indication. This one tasks you with discovering the source of the abominations from the sea that have driven the inhabitants of a small fishing village from their homes. One such encounter with one of these beasts has it lolloping out of a house in pursuit of you, after you’ve wounded it.

I know this is the exact thing that it does, because this game (and series, I’d imagine), is more or less a digital Choose Your Own Adventure-style book, with some light RPG mechanics thrown in to give it some replayability. Aside from Stamina, your character really only has one stat: Skill. On most difficulties, these are determined randomly at the start of the game. Stamina is health, and Skill is your base competency at most things, which you roll two six-sided dice and add them to this value for your result. Both of these attributes will diminish as you play, but neither of them will save you from the instant-death dead ends you’ll find yourself at before you die in combat, most of the time. The story’s interesting enough, and it’s all narrated…though the voice actor’s delivery sometimes leaves a little to be desired.

The sudden deaths may be off-putting to some, but if you grew up with these kinds of books, there’s a lot to like here.

The art is also a bit…YA graphic novel-y, but there are worse ways to spend six bucks.

Don’t let the door hit you

So, we’re down yet another teller at work. Granted, this particular guy was no huge loss; he had a tendency to wander away from his window if there was nothing going on, his attempts to call people over to his window when he was there were half-hearted at best, and he barely seemed to know how to do the job when he had to do it, anyway. Still, we can’t seem to keep a decent staff, because people keep getting fired or leaving. Which brings us to today’s word.

egress, verb – to leave (also noun – an exit)

Learned from: Shining in the Darkness (Sega Genesis)

Developed by Climax Entertainment

Published by Sega (1991)

Shining in the Darkness is a game that took me years of renting to beat. Back in the days before standardized game pricing, you might get lucky and find a game for $40, or you might get gouged for as much as $90, depending on the title, its development costs, number of copies produced, and the alignment of the stars, for all I know. This one fell closer to the pricy end of that spectrum, though my parents probably spent close to its retail price on rental payments, by the time I finally finished it. Yay, irony.

Objectively, the game wasn’t anything special from a story standpoint: the king’s daughter has been kidnapped by an evil wizard, and you take up the quest to delve into an enormous dungeon and rescue her. But it was the presentation that kept me coming back. The artwork in this (and the later Shining Force games) had a style I loved, the soundtrack occasionally pops into my head even today, and the characters actually had interactions beyond simple “here’s your quest, now go, brave adventurers!” And again, the dungeon was HUGE–requiring you to draw your own maps if you had any hope of figuring out where you were going. If you didn’t (or if you got too beat up), you could cast the Egress spell to pop back to the entrance and regroup.

A map to the credit union where I work, if any brave adventurers want to take up a quest.

Is it too late for New Year’s resolutions?

Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated, though man, this past year was a doozy. I must have spent 3/4 of it either working longer hours to train people in, or working longer hours because we flat-out just didn’t have enough people. This shortage seems like it might finally be behind us (for the moment, at least), so I wanted to finally get back to some creative projects. In all honesty, I probably could’ve picked this back up a few weeks ago, but well, bodies at rest and all that. Which brings us to today’s word.

skiving, verb – progressive tense of “skive,” to slack off or avoid one’s duty

Learned from: Xenoblade Chronicles (Nintendo Switch, New 3DS, Wii)

Developed by Monolith Soft

Published by Nintendo (2010)

The fact that I haven’t finished Xenoblade Chronicles yet makes this word even more fitting. It’s not that it’s a bad game, or anything–far from it. With its mix of sci-fi and fantasy, engaging combat, and unique setting (pretty much all land masses are on the backs of two dead titans), it’s actually a very enjoyable title…even if the antagonists were more menacing before they started talking in thick, Cockney accents. That just feels weird, coming out of a hulking, murderous machine. But I digress. Some other game came out that distracted me while I was playing it (maybe Shin Megami Tensei V), and I just haven’t gotten back to it yet. I’d like to, though.

Anyway, in one of the earlier parts of the game, the main character is getting berated for not pulling his weight. Admittedly, in a world under the constant threat of invasion by nigh-unstoppable, mechanical behemoths, skiving is a bit more egregious than neglecting a little Internet blog, but I can still identify somewhat. And while I won’t be saving the world from a looming danger, I’m still going to pick up the slack and get back to doing things that matter to me. Expect more updates soon!

When your only tool is a sword, all your problems become things that need stabbing. Like this looming embodiment of procrastination.

How fitting.

I was working on making dinner today, when an onion I was slicing up slid under my hand, and I ended up doing the knife-equivalent of whacking my thumb with a hammer. For such a relatively small wound, it bled a surprising amount. Which brings us to today’s word.

imbrued, verb – past tense of imbrue, to stain, particularly with blood

Learned from: Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night (Playstation 4, PC, Switch, XBox One, mobile)

Developed by ArtPlay, Wayforward

Published by 505 Games (2019)

When I found my first Imbrued Skull, I thought it was a typo of “imbued.” But the rest of the translation had been pretty solid, and nothing in the item’s description suggested it was imbued with anything (except perhaps blood). So, on a whim I looked it up, and yeah, it’s just a very tongue-in-cheek play on words, considering the game it’s from.

I actually kind of respect that, because while <i>Bloodstained</i> is <i>Castlevania</i> in everything but name, it’s got enough self-awareness to give it a slightly playful identity all its own. Sure, there’s themes of human experimentation, and demonology, and all that, but you’ve also got a bumbling villager who keeps getting lost, despite all your efforts to help him get home, an old lady who just wants to eat all her favorite foods one last time before she dies, and the occasional fourth wall-breaking joke. And somehow, it all works.

What a terrible night to have a bloody hand injury…

Actions need to have consequences.

I’m not sure how funny this post is going to be, but I’m writing it for several reasons. First, because of the reprehensible and sadly unsurprising siege that was laid to the Capitol Building in Washington D.C., today. I’ve been unable to concentrate on anything else, as democracy in my country nearly came apart entirely at the seams. I need to focus on something else, but I also need to vent some of the maelstrom of emotions I’m feeling right now. Which brings us to tonight’s word.

imprison, verb – to confine or jail

Learned from: Archon II: Adept (Apple II, Amiga, Amstrad CPC, Atari 8-bit, Commodore 64, ZX Spectrum)

Developed by Free Fall Associates

Published by Electronic Arts (1984)

I know that you might be thinking this word seems unlikely, as it’s a simple derivation from “prison.” But I was maybe five years old when I first played Archon II; I knew what a prison was, but I’d never heard “imprison” until seeing the spell here, that immobilized an enemy unit.

That’s about all I can muster for backstory right now, because current events are so much more pressing. Thousands of rioters descended upon one of the most iconic government buildings in my country this afternoon. And by and large, the police just let them. I can understand this at the onset, to some extent: While it’s absurd that there wasn’t a larger security presence, the fact is that the police who were there, were vastly outnumbered. It’s the fact that they more or less just…let these criminals just walk out and go wherever, rather than making any concerted effort to make arrests–that is what has me angriest.

There need to be consequences for this, for as many people involved as possible. If authorities aren’t going through the abundant footage of this, seeking to identify and prosecute as many rioters as they can, then this situation is even worse than it seems. Because it implies a tacit approval for actions like this, and I don’t know how things can move forward, if that’s really how things are.