2008/09/08 06:23:24
Liveblog: PAX, day 3
1506: I'm in the PC Freeplay line.
The line, which I dismissed as being absurdly long the previous two
days is now easily twice the length. But I will perservere!
1513: As usual, the line's bark is worse than it's bite.
1543: Interesting half hour match of TF2. The pings were low, but the equipment was actually worse than the stuff I have at home, and there was no voice chatter. So, by "interesting", I mean "shitty".
1604: This time, I'm going to wait in the SCII line until I get to play.
1625: Oh god, what have I gotten myself into.
1629: Challenged dude in line next to me in a three round rock paper scissors match, for a DTS button. He played rock all three rounds, and beat me.
1706: I get to play!
1720: Let this be a lesson in humiliating defeat. I was given 20 minutes in which to defeat a Zerg AI player set to "Easy". In the following 16 minutes I discovered that a single battlecruiser does not acquit itself honorably against the Zerg Horde. With four minutes left, and zero resources, I gave up like a pussy, and ran away to cry about it.
1734: Man, I am absolutely starving. I'm headed to the Pioneer Square food court to get somethin to eat.
1757: I had some shrimp tempura rolls, but they weren't that filling.
1801: Apparently everything starts closing at 6:00 PM. I guess I wasn't that hungry?
1809: Looking through my expo guide, I discover that PAX closes at 6:00 PM as well. AWESOME!
Post-PAX debrief: I played (sucked) Starcraft II, participated in the LAN, and didn't do much else. Was it worth it? Sure, but next year I'll BYOC, and try to attend with someone. I didn't see Ben this day, which was a shame, since I was planning on doing some quality hardware-gloating, inre: the HD 4870 I just bought.
tl;dr: A++, will attend again.
1513: As usual, the line's bark is worse than it's bite.
1543: Interesting half hour match of TF2. The pings were low, but the equipment was actually worse than the stuff I have at home, and there was no voice chatter. So, by "interesting", I mean "shitty".
1604: This time, I'm going to wait in the SCII line until I get to play.
1625: Oh god, what have I gotten myself into.
1629: Challenged dude in line next to me in a three round rock paper scissors match, for a DTS button. He played rock all three rounds, and beat me.
1706: I get to play!
1720: Let this be a lesson in humiliating defeat. I was given 20 minutes in which to defeat a Zerg AI player set to "Easy". In the following 16 minutes I discovered that a single battlecruiser does not acquit itself honorably against the Zerg Horde. With four minutes left, and zero resources, I gave up like a pussy, and ran away to cry about it.
1734: Man, I am absolutely starving. I'm headed to the Pioneer Square food court to get somethin to eat.
1757: I had some shrimp tempura rolls, but they weren't that filling.
1801: Apparently everything starts closing at 6:00 PM. I guess I wasn't that hungry?
1809: Looking through my expo guide, I discover that PAX closes at 6:00 PM as well. AWESOME!
Post-PAX debrief: I played (sucked) Starcraft II, participated in the LAN, and didn't do much else. Was it worth it? Sure, but next year I'll BYOC, and try to attend with someone. I didn't see Ben this day, which was a shame, since I was planning on doing some quality hardware-gloating, inre: the HD 4870 I just bought.
tl;dr: A++, will attend again.
2008/09/08 05:54:52
presenting: a transcript of a youtube video
In the spirit of Sam512's transcript of
>9000, I present, "The Scout's" Sexy Suspender Striptease";
a youtube poop of
the Meet The Scout video. Watch them in order for maximum context,
or not!
Typographic conventions: "Text:" denotes on screen text added by the editor. "--" denotes a jump cut. Four repetitions of anything is taken to mean "many", to avoid having to count a specific number.
Meet the Scout:
The Scout's Sexy Suspender Striptease:
The TF2 Sting plays over the title card. --ing --ing --ing --ing
The Scout taps a Heavy, eating a sandvich, in the head with a baseball bat.
Scout: Yo, what's up?
The Scout hits the heavy in the stomach with a baseball bat.
Scout: Bonk! -onk onk onk onk onk onk!
The Scout, in front of the title card.
Scout: Grass grows, grass --flies, grass --shines, and brother, grass --hurts people. --pl --pl --pl --pl
Scout: Wooooo! --ooo! --ooo! --ooo! --ooo!
Scout: If I --ooo! was from --ooo! where grass --ooo! was from? --ooo! I'm a force of nature. --ooo!
Scout: Bonk!
Scout: And brudda, if you? --ooo!
Heavy: Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrgh!
Scout: --ooo!
Scout: Birds --grow --grass.
The scout taps the camera repeatedly, forming a musical scale.
Scout: I'm a f(BEEP)ckin--
Heavy: Arrgh!
Scout: Nee-- grow, Nee-- grow, Nee-- grow, Nee-- grow, Nee-- grow, Nee-- grow.
Text: NEGRO
Scout pauses.
Scout: Okay.
The Scout screams "Woo!" repeatedly, forming a musical scale.
Scout: Aggggg! -g! -g! -g! -g! -g!
Scout: Okay.
Scout: --g --g --g --g --g --ass --ass --ass --ass --ass --s --s --s --s --s
The Scout screams "Woo!" repeatedly, forming a melody.
Scout: That's beautiful. Uuf --uf --uf --uf --uf
Scout: Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrgh!
Heavy: Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrgh!
Scout: Abu --dabu --dabu --dabu --dabu
Scout: I mean --uh --do you have any idea, --a --a --a --a --who I am.
Heavy: Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrgh!
Scout: Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrgh!
Scout: Arrrrrrrrrgh!
Heavy: Arrgh!
Scout: You listening? You listening? --ng --ng --ng --ng. You listening?
The Scout pauses.
Scout: You listening?
Scout: Woo --ooo! --ooo! --ooo! --ooo!
The Scout taps a Heavy, eating a sandvich, in the head with a baseball bat. --taps --taps --taps The heavy turns to look, then turns away.
Scout: --ta --ta --ta --ta --DoyouhaveanyideawhoIam. --Grass grows --Grass grows --grows --grows --Grass grows --Grass grows
Scout: Bonk!
Scout: Birds --shines, and brudda, I hurtya --brudda --brudda --brudda
Scout: --ya --ya --ya --ya --ya
Scout: I --grow --grass
Heavy: Arrgh!
Scout: Bonk!
The scout surveys the building housing the central capture point in cp_well, in slow motion, while a song plays in the background. He smirks, cycles the action on his shotgun, and begins to sprint forwards. A Blu, level one sentry tracks, and fires two shots.
Text: AND THEN HE DIED.
The TF2 sting plays over a group shot of the Red team.
Typographic conventions: "Text:" denotes on screen text added by the editor. "--" denotes a jump cut. Four repetitions of anything is taken to mean "many", to avoid having to count a specific number.
Meet the Scout:
The Scout's Sexy Suspender Striptease:
The TF2 Sting plays over the title card. --ing --ing --ing --ing
The Scout taps a Heavy, eating a sandvich, in the head with a baseball bat.
Scout: Yo, what's up?
The Scout hits the heavy in the stomach with a baseball bat.
Scout: Bonk! -onk onk onk onk onk onk!
The Scout, in front of the title card.
Scout: Grass grows, grass --flies, grass --shines, and brother, grass --hurts people. --pl --pl --pl --pl
Scout: Wooooo! --ooo! --ooo! --ooo! --ooo!
Scout: If I --ooo! was from --ooo! where grass --ooo! was from? --ooo! I'm a force of nature. --ooo!
Scout: Bonk!
Scout: And brudda, if you? --ooo!
Heavy: Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrgh!
Scout: --ooo!
Scout: Birds --grow --grass.
The scout taps the camera repeatedly, forming a musical scale.
Scout: I'm a f(BEEP)ckin--
Heavy: Arrgh!
Scout: Nee-- grow, Nee-- grow, Nee-- grow, Nee-- grow, Nee-- grow, Nee-- grow.
Text: NEGRO
Scout pauses.
Scout: Okay.
The Scout screams "Woo!" repeatedly, forming a musical scale.
Scout: Aggggg! -g! -g! -g! -g! -g!
Scout: Okay.
Scout: --g --g --g --g --g --ass --ass --ass --ass --ass --s --s --s --s --s
The Scout screams "Woo!" repeatedly, forming a melody.
Scout: That's beautiful. Uuf --uf --uf --uf --uf
Scout: Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrgh!
Heavy: Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrgh!
Scout: Abu --dabu --dabu --dabu --dabu
Scout: I mean --uh --do you have any idea, --a --a --a --a --who I am.
Heavy: Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrgh!
Scout: Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrgh! Arrgh!
Scout: Arrrrrrrrrgh!
Heavy: Arrgh!
Scout: You listening? You listening? --ng --ng --ng --ng. You listening?
The Scout pauses.
Scout: You listening?
Scout: Woo --ooo! --ooo! --ooo! --ooo!
The Scout taps a Heavy, eating a sandvich, in the head with a baseball bat. --taps --taps --taps The heavy turns to look, then turns away.
Scout: --ta --ta --ta --ta --DoyouhaveanyideawhoIam. --Grass grows --Grass grows --grows --grows --Grass grows --Grass grows
Scout: Bonk!
Scout: Birds --shines, and brudda, I hurtya --brudda --brudda --brudda
Scout: --ya --ya --ya --ya --ya
Scout: I --grow --grass
Heavy: Arrgh!
Scout: Bonk!
The scout surveys the building housing the central capture point in cp_well, in slow motion, while a song plays in the background. He smirks, cycles the action on his shotgun, and begins to sprint forwards. A Blu, level one sentry tracks, and fires two shots.
Text: AND THEN HE DIED.
The TF2 sting plays over a group shot of the Red team.
2008/08/31 05:01:19
Liveblog: PAX, day 2
1335 hours: Arrived at PAX. Found the
classic gaming freeplay room. There is all kinds of neat
shit in here. Toploading NESes! Original Pong knockoffs! Right now
I'm watching some people suck at N64 Mario Kart.
1410: PAX enforcer asks me about the EEE, bringing the total up to five. We have an awkward conversation about linux.
1630: EEE count six. Representative convention conversation snippet, "Don't you mean irregardless?"
I'm sitting in the North exhibition hall lobby typing this, watching an endless torrent of people flow past. 36 people counted in 20 seconds, which is 6480 people an hour. Mirror's Edge looks interesting in person, but it's kinda hard to figure out who's shooting you, which is bad when you die so easily. Seems to be more cosplayers today; I've seen a Medic, an Engineer, and a Scout so far; as well as the vault 13 Exile, the Riddlier, etc. I've also seen, like, five Enforcers wearing kilts.
There's no paxnet signal here! Guess I'll be moving on.
1716: Ran into Ben! He has changed very little. This is a clever euphromism for "he is still a dick".
I am currently lurking in the Rock Band contest room, which has an oddly high concentration of women. I guess even virtual rockers get the girls.
Apparently they are a band, and I am a evil sexist.
All the drummers remove their right shoe, for the kick drum; either to keep from destroying the controller or for greater control.
EEE count seven, or perhaps 6.5, since it was more of a passing mention this time.
A dance fight has broken out! The power of Rock has possesed the bystanders.
1727: This drummer has gone entirely barefoot.
1840: Street Fighter: The Movie: The Video Game! It's just like the Street Fighter game, only based on the movie that's based on it.
1903: Waiting in line for the Saturday Night Concerts.
1904: The adhesive tag on the concert wristband has attached itself to my arm hairs.
1905: Tearing it off now.
1906: My neighbors are expressing concern for the little girl who seems to be crying in their immediate vicinity. I try to ignore their jeers.
1955: A neighbor wanders by me to interrogate a fellow outside of my field of vision who has been typing ryhmically for the last twenty minutes. I turn around to spectate, and discover him to be holding the keyboard in an inverted posistion, gripping it by the first five function keys. I correctly identify him as playing Frets On Fire, to general hilarity.
2100: Ladies and gentlemen, the Sex Generals!
2101: They suck! But the crowd loves them anyway!
2117: After them came the two Omeganaut teams, Omegadeath and School Of Hard Cocks, both playing the Eye Of The Tiger. Omegadeath went first, so they were fresh, but the Hard Cock's drummer threw his sticks into the crowd! And, presumably, blinded someone. Omegadeath wins! This is what comes from having a penis-based band name.
2121: At least it isn't taking them too long to change equipment.
2122: It occurs to me that this is the first concert I have ever attended. A rite of passage! Rather, a rite of deafness.
2125: We hear a guitar note from behind the curtain, and me and the three nerds near me start going "Uhp! Uhp! Uhp!" in unison. lol hive mind.
Everyone has sat down and pulled out portible electronic devices.
2128: Dude next to me retrived one of the Hard Cock's drumstricks from the eye socket of a bystander, and is now tapping it on the floor. I contemplate murder.
2130: A chiptunes/rock fusion band (consulting my program, I discover that they call themselves "Anamanaguchi") has taken the stage. They are loud!
2131: They are so loud that, whatever they are playing, is reduced to a jagged crash of distored guitars and hideiously piecing tones. I listen to loud, angry music professionally, and yet I cannot tolerate this. My "rite of deafness" joke is proving unplesantly prophetic.
2135: I have retreated to the farthest corner of the theater, and they are still intelerably loud. Covering both ears with my hands reduces this to merely crushing level of loudness. It is now offical: I am a woman.
2144: I have fled the venue, determined to return when Frontalot shows up.
2158: Ben shows up to complain about the loudness. A fellow woman!
2202: An actual female girl has shown up to comisserate. Ben expounds upon his "square wave" theory.
2204: <&QuiQafooQey> i refuse to read your blog until the sentence "QuiQafooQey is a greek god" has been uploaded into it.
QuiQafooQey is a greek god. Specifically, the Greek god of homsexuality.
Ben and this girl are actually conversing, in a civil manner, even. Either she is extraordinarily accomidating, or Ben has mellowed, and I just refuse to see it.
Nahhhh.
0032: Just got off a fucking intense, and apparently hour plus game of Ten Man Bomberman in the classic console freeplay room. Dude from IGN came by and interviewed me while playing, and I probably came off like a moron.
What's Ten Man Bomberman, you ask? Why, it's a Genesis with two multitaps, and ten screaming fiends of men playing it. Is it crazy insane? Fuck yes it is crazy insane!
0033: Side effects of extended bomberman include: Lightheadedness, body chills, and extreme blogginess.
0101: Awright, I'm outta here.
0112: Apparently the bus shows up at 0123, not 0110.
0117: A couple of PAX attendees ask me where they could buy cigarettes at such an hour. Hilarity is shared when I point out that I, too, am a PAX attendee.
Post-PAX debrief: I still haven't actually played any unreleased games, and I waited in line for a couple of hours to almost immediately walk out on the actual event; but I did play a couple of games, and Fun was Had.
1410: PAX enforcer asks me about the EEE, bringing the total up to five. We have an awkward conversation about linux.
1630: EEE count six. Representative convention conversation snippet, "Don't you mean irregardless?"
I'm sitting in the North exhibition hall lobby typing this, watching an endless torrent of people flow past. 36 people counted in 20 seconds, which is 6480 people an hour. Mirror's Edge looks interesting in person, but it's kinda hard to figure out who's shooting you, which is bad when you die so easily. Seems to be more cosplayers today; I've seen a Medic, an Engineer, and a Scout so far; as well as the vault 13 Exile, the Riddlier, etc. I've also seen, like, five Enforcers wearing kilts.
There's no paxnet signal here! Guess I'll be moving on.
1716: Ran into Ben! He has changed very little. This is a clever euphromism for "he is still a dick".
I am currently lurking in the Rock Band contest room, which has an oddly high concentration of women. I guess even virtual rockers get the girls.
Apparently they are a band, and I am a evil sexist.
All the drummers remove their right shoe, for the kick drum; either to keep from destroying the controller or for greater control.
EEE count seven, or perhaps 6.5, since it was more of a passing mention this time.
A dance fight has broken out! The power of Rock has possesed the bystanders.
1727: This drummer has gone entirely barefoot.
1840: Street Fighter: The Movie: The Video Game! It's just like the Street Fighter game, only based on the movie that's based on it.
1903: Waiting in line for the Saturday Night Concerts.
1904: The adhesive tag on the concert wristband has attached itself to my arm hairs.
1905: Tearing it off now.
1906: My neighbors are expressing concern for the little girl who seems to be crying in their immediate vicinity. I try to ignore their jeers.
1955: A neighbor wanders by me to interrogate a fellow outside of my field of vision who has been typing ryhmically for the last twenty minutes. I turn around to spectate, and discover him to be holding the keyboard in an inverted posistion, gripping it by the first five function keys. I correctly identify him as playing Frets On Fire, to general hilarity.
2100: Ladies and gentlemen, the Sex Generals!
2101: They suck! But the crowd loves them anyway!
2117: After them came the two Omeganaut teams, Omegadeath and School Of Hard Cocks, both playing the Eye Of The Tiger. Omegadeath went first, so they were fresh, but the Hard Cock's drummer threw his sticks into the crowd! And, presumably, blinded someone. Omegadeath wins! This is what comes from having a penis-based band name.
2121: At least it isn't taking them too long to change equipment.
2122: It occurs to me that this is the first concert I have ever attended. A rite of passage! Rather, a rite of deafness.
2125: We hear a guitar note from behind the curtain, and me and the three nerds near me start going "Uhp! Uhp! Uhp!" in unison. lol hive mind.
Everyone has sat down and pulled out portible electronic devices.
2128: Dude next to me retrived one of the Hard Cock's drumstricks from the eye socket of a bystander, and is now tapping it on the floor. I contemplate murder.
2130: A chiptunes/rock fusion band (consulting my program, I discover that they call themselves "Anamanaguchi") has taken the stage. They are loud!
2131: They are so loud that, whatever they are playing, is reduced to a jagged crash of distored guitars and hideiously piecing tones. I listen to loud, angry music professionally, and yet I cannot tolerate this. My "rite of deafness" joke is proving unplesantly prophetic.
2135: I have retreated to the farthest corner of the theater, and they are still intelerably loud. Covering both ears with my hands reduces this to merely crushing level of loudness. It is now offical: I am a woman.
2144: I have fled the venue, determined to return when Frontalot shows up.
2158: Ben shows up to complain about the loudness. A fellow woman!
2202: An actual female girl has shown up to comisserate. Ben expounds upon his "square wave" theory.
2204: <&QuiQafooQey> i refuse to read your blog until the sentence "QuiQafooQey is a greek god" has been uploaded into it.
QuiQafooQey is a greek god. Specifically, the Greek god of homsexuality.
Ben and this girl are actually conversing, in a civil manner, even. Either she is extraordinarily accomidating, or Ben has mellowed, and I just refuse to see it.
Nahhhh.
0032: Just got off a fucking intense, and apparently hour plus game of Ten Man Bomberman in the classic console freeplay room. Dude from IGN came by and interviewed me while playing, and I probably came off like a moron.
What's Ten Man Bomberman, you ask? Why, it's a Genesis with two multitaps, and ten screaming fiends of men playing it. Is it crazy insane? Fuck yes it is crazy insane!
0033: Side effects of extended bomberman include: Lightheadedness, body chills, and extreme blogginess.
0101: Awright, I'm outta here.
0112: Apparently the bus shows up at 0123, not 0110.
0117: A couple of PAX attendees ask me where they could buy cigarettes at such an hour. Hilarity is shared when I point out that I, too, am a PAX attendee.
Post-PAX debrief: I still haven't actually played any unreleased games, and I waited in line for a couple of hours to almost immediately walk out on the actual event; but I did play a couple of games, and Fun was Had.
2008/08/29 22:33:04
Liveblog: PAX, day 1
1447 hours: I got off at the wrong
damn bus stop.
1458: I'm here! There's so many white people around here I'm afraid a Republican national convention might break out.
1503: Gee, maybe I should have preregistered. This line is fucking huge? Pictured: The outside portion of the line, with the vast majority being in the south lobby.
1510: Apparently this is the preregistered line. I have been redirected to the new registrations line.
1514: The "buy tickets with cash" line has literally three people in it.
1518: Sitting in keynote line, reading the marketing fluff in the swag bag
. 1543: Did you know that the keynote is taking place at 1630? Because I didn't.
1544: My neighbors have asked me to stop screaming obscentities.
1622: They're letting us in! Finally.
1629: Oh god they've inflicting game trailers on us. Ken Levine, you had better be awesome.
[links to be added later]
1631: Superman doesn't bleed, morons!
1632: Lord of rings MMORPG? Mo like Lord of Warcraft! UH OH
1634: Oh shit, a funny trailer? Too bad it looks like its got a five dollar budget.
1638: DS games don't look too hot on a 20 foot screen.
1639: Bah ha ha, a afro samurai video game. In before snakes on a plane mmorpg.
1641: A CAS game? Thrill in slaughtetering civilians, revel in creeping uselessness!
1644: FarCry 2 is looking awesome as usual. The old trailer is somewhat enhanced by watching it on a big ole screen.
1647: Prince of Persia is looking silly, as usual.
1650: Ecocism! Like Sim City, only with plants! So, Sim Farm.
When are they going to get to the damn keynote?
1655: Warhammer online? Mo like Dorkhammer Online! Of Warcraft!
1656: Golly, a Naruto game. At least I assume there's a Naruto game, since this is a gaming convention, and they haven't actually shown any in game footage, prefering instead cuts from the anime.
1657: Apparently it's coming out for the wii, whatever it looks like.
1658: Pirates vs. Ninja dodgeball? Really? Really?
1701: Wow, Ken's voice is surprisingly nasal. And he swears! And he's talking about... buying Rome Total War? And comparing it to gay porn?
1704: Sudden awkward silence when he mentions "second base".
1706: He describes Baywatch as the "fuckin' shit". CLASSY
1707: "I wanted to fuck the Scarlet Witch." SO VERY CLASSY
1709: New slide: "My sexual development". Actually, it's pretty classy.
JUST KIDDING.
1712: Extended metaphor comparing D&D to masturbastion.
1715: Extended metaphor comparing playing D&D in grade school to the French Underground.
1717: "I stared at Darth Vader, not sure what to do next. But when the Dark Lord of the Sith offers you five, you give him five."
1718: Old school nerd references are flying.
1719: Annnnnd he's back to sex.
1721: Ken: Raraghag I hate women.
1726: Ken Levine as: Failed Hollywood writer!
1727: Cell phones ringing!
1731: Whoop, guess Ken's done. So, are the lights going to come up, or...
1732: Loud noises just as I start leaving!
1734: Oh, I guess it's going to be a PA Q&A.
1740: Oh no, Jerry's singing.
1743: Gotta charge my laptop. Where the fuck is an open outlet?
1747: Somehow I've wandered into the main exhibitation hall.
1748: Fuck yeah, Left4Dead! These are Xbox 360 demo stations, so I can't play. It looks like a polished, less shitty Zombie Master.
1754: Gee, there sure are a lot of console games round here. I'm watching people in the Rock Band booth. They've got everything in those big black tour cases, including the console and the televisions. Nice.
1800: Found an outlet near the brawndo booth. Booth dude rolls out to ask about the EEE, which makes him the third to do so, so far, but there's no free wifi here, so I must travel on.
1854: I have gazed upon Starcraft II, and found it to be Starcraft, in 3D; which should be consolation to the hundreds of thousands who dedicated their life to the original Starcraft. I have also gazed upon Fallout 3, and found it to be shiny as hell. I have gazed upon the Pirates vs. Ninjas booth, and found it to contain people dressed as the respective sides.
I have also gazed upon thousands of gamers, and found them to be sterotypical. There's also a fairly large contigant of children who have dragged their mothers along, which is... something, all right. Sure is.
EEE questions have reached 4. I also spent $22 on an "Exterminate!" shirt with a Dalek on it. I am really tired! I don't know if I'll make it much longer.
1957: Watching the Omegathon Boom Blox round will cause me to miss the first part of the TF2 tourney! SO BE IT
1959: The crowd is excited! Lots of shaved heads among the Few.
2002: The screens are too damn low. Can't see what's going down.
2003: Technical gliches! Someone accidently quit.
2005: This isn't exactly the most exciting thing to watch. But everyone's cheering! Golly, I wish I knew what the hell was going on. Makes me wish I owned a Wii.
2009: Wuh oh, someone got eliminated. Middle fingers all around. Professional! I'd say we needed a color commentator to explain what the hell was happening, but I hate color commentators, so.
2016: I paid for the whole seat, but I only needed the edge. Since I sat on the edge trying to gain some height the whole time. Also! My pocket protector seems to be coming apart at the seams. On to TF2!
2112: Apparently you can't just spectate, you have to participate; and of course the participation line is friggin enormous. Thinking about going home andcrying going to bed.
1458: I'm here! There's so many white people around here I'm afraid a Republican national convention might break out.
1503: Gee, maybe I should have preregistered. This line is fucking huge? Pictured: The outside portion of the line, with the vast majority being in the south lobby.
1510: Apparently this is the preregistered line. I have been redirected to the new registrations line.
1514: The "buy tickets with cash" line has literally three people in it.
1518: Sitting in keynote line, reading the marketing fluff in the swag bag
. 1543: Did you know that the keynote is taking place at 1630? Because I didn't.
1544: My neighbors have asked me to stop screaming obscentities.
1622: They're letting us in! Finally.
1629: Oh god they've inflicting game trailers on us. Ken Levine, you had better be awesome.
[links to be added later]
1631: Superman doesn't bleed, morons!
1632: Lord of rings MMORPG? Mo like Lord of Warcraft! UH OH
1634: Oh shit, a funny trailer? Too bad it looks like its got a five dollar budget.
1638: DS games don't look too hot on a 20 foot screen.
1639: Bah ha ha, a afro samurai video game. In before snakes on a plane mmorpg.
1641: A CAS game? Thrill in slaughtetering civilians, revel in creeping uselessness!
1644: FarCry 2 is looking awesome as usual. The old trailer is somewhat enhanced by watching it on a big ole screen.
1647: Prince of Persia is looking silly, as usual.
1650: Ecocism! Like Sim City, only with plants! So, Sim Farm.
When are they going to get to the damn keynote?
1655: Warhammer online? Mo like Dorkhammer Online! Of Warcraft!
1656: Golly, a Naruto game. At least I assume there's a Naruto game, since this is a gaming convention, and they haven't actually shown any in game footage, prefering instead cuts from the anime.
1657: Apparently it's coming out for the wii, whatever it looks like.
1658: Pirates vs. Ninja dodgeball? Really? Really?
1701: Wow, Ken's voice is surprisingly nasal. And he swears! And he's talking about... buying Rome Total War? And comparing it to gay porn?
1704: Sudden awkward silence when he mentions "second base".
1706: He describes Baywatch as the "fuckin' shit". CLASSY
1707: "I wanted to fuck the Scarlet Witch." SO VERY CLASSY
1709: New slide: "My sexual development". Actually, it's pretty classy.
JUST KIDDING.
1712: Extended metaphor comparing D&D to masturbastion.
1715: Extended metaphor comparing playing D&D in grade school to the French Underground.
1717: "I stared at Darth Vader, not sure what to do next. But when the Dark Lord of the Sith offers you five, you give him five."
1718: Old school nerd references are flying.
1719: Annnnnd he's back to sex.
1721: Ken: Raraghag I hate women.
1726: Ken Levine as: Failed Hollywood writer!
1727: Cell phones ringing!
1731: Whoop, guess Ken's done. So, are the lights going to come up, or...
1732: Loud noises just as I start leaving!
1734: Oh, I guess it's going to be a PA Q&A.
1740: Oh no, Jerry's singing.
1743: Gotta charge my laptop. Where the fuck is an open outlet?
1747: Somehow I've wandered into the main exhibitation hall.
1748: Fuck yeah, Left4Dead! These are Xbox 360 demo stations, so I can't play. It looks like a polished, less shitty Zombie Master.
1754: Gee, there sure are a lot of console games round here. I'm watching people in the Rock Band booth. They've got everything in those big black tour cases, including the console and the televisions. Nice.
1800: Found an outlet near the brawndo booth. Booth dude rolls out to ask about the EEE, which makes him the third to do so, so far, but there's no free wifi here, so I must travel on.
1854: I have gazed upon Starcraft II, and found it to be Starcraft, in 3D; which should be consolation to the hundreds of thousands who dedicated their life to the original Starcraft. I have also gazed upon Fallout 3, and found it to be shiny as hell. I have gazed upon the Pirates vs. Ninjas booth, and found it to contain people dressed as the respective sides.
I have also gazed upon thousands of gamers, and found them to be sterotypical. There's also a fairly large contigant of children who have dragged their mothers along, which is... something, all right. Sure is.
EEE questions have reached 4. I also spent $22 on an "Exterminate!" shirt with a Dalek on it. I am really tired! I don't know if I'll make it much longer.
1957: Watching the Omegathon Boom Blox round will cause me to miss the first part of the TF2 tourney! SO BE IT
1959: The crowd is excited! Lots of shaved heads among the Few.
2002: The screens are too damn low. Can't see what's going down.
2003: Technical gliches! Someone accidently quit.
2005: This isn't exactly the most exciting thing to watch. But everyone's cheering! Golly, I wish I knew what the hell was going on. Makes me wish I owned a Wii.
2009: Wuh oh, someone got eliminated. Middle fingers all around. Professional! I'd say we needed a color commentator to explain what the hell was happening, but I hate color commentators, so.
2016: I paid for the whole seat, but I only needed the edge. Since I sat on the edge trying to gain some height the whole time. Also! My pocket protector seems to be coming apart at the seams. On to TF2!
2112: Apparently you can't just spectate, you have to participate; and of course the participation line is friggin enormous. Thinking about going home and
2008/08/18 05:31:27
bbot's adventures in load shedding
So I was changing lightbulbs on floor
26, which is entirely taken up by offices of the Washington State
Court of Appeals, whose court is on the lobby floor. It had
apparently been a while since they had been graced by the presence
of a lighting maintence technician, since I was seeing a ton of
light bulbs, and people kept leaving post-it notes on my clipboard,
asking me to change some particular fixture. I'm doing the whole
floor, guys, you don't have to draw my attention to every single
fixture with a dead bulb.
When but should we recieve an annoucement over the security intercom that PSE had experienced a series of transformer failures, and that we urgently needed to reduce power consumption by 40% or suffer a brownout. To wit: we would shut off all the lights. (Except for the emergency lights, which cannot be shut off, except via axe.)
Now, you would think that I, being a lighting maintence guy, and thus not an actual electrician, would have no duty to play in the "shutting off lights" phase, and, as a corrolary, would not be able to fufill my normal duties, since changing lights is hard if you have no way to determine which ones are dead. You would be wrong, because as a Union Square employee, I did have a valuable role to play in the "intimidating tennants" phase.
You see, the lights are shut off through the building automation system, which turns the lights on in the morning and turns them off at night. For the purposes of working late, an override switch is provided, to override the automatic shutoff and keep the lights on.
But this switch harbors a sinister secret, for it not only overrides the timers, but all commands from the management computer; say, if it was attempting to shut off the lights to prevent a brownout.
My job was thus: Track down these people, and gently point out that we had a contractual obligation to the city of seattle to shed load, and if they kept overriding management commands, we would unfortunately be forced to shut down all power to the floor; which included power to computers, critical servers, life-support machines, (also known as "coffee machines") etc.
This had the unfortunate side-effect of making me feel like a jackbooted thug.
After properly browbeating the offending tennats, I proceded to the One Union engineering office, where Don Wildes[*] and Mitchell (coming to us live by speakerphone) were manning the building management computer. I fielded calls on Don's phone while he resoved some alerts, then we proceded to 17 to clear a taped override switch.
*: My immediate supervisor for the filter changing and relief fan maintence project of 12/2007-03/2008.
Now, to me, the procedure to clear a taped override switch[**] is:
1. Remove the tape.
2. Leave.
But Don switched it up, and added a third item:
3. Stick around and tell the tennant how walking into their suite and shutting off their lights is good for them.
**: If you tape an override switch in the "on" position, then it'll constantly increment the timeout counter, and the lights will, as a result, never turn off. This is a fairly bad idea, since it means that the lights will never turn off, and thus, you know, remain on. So, removing the tape benefitted the tennant in three ways: It prevented a brownout, it saved them money on their power bill, and it saved them money on lamp replacement costs.
The person closest to the door took this as an oppratunity to point out that it was dark, that he didn't like it being so dark, and that he would rather it be brighter. At one point in his increasingly hostile rant he speculated that it "was bad engineering" for there not to be one light fixture per office. He, of course, couldn't know this, but Don is an Operating Engineer, and this is more or less a direct insult.
Don, remaining remarkably calm, replied that he should contact the architects who designed the building in 1982, and express his concerns to them, rather than the two people with the least possible ability to affect the situation. In response, he told Don that he was "tired of your sanctimonious shit", and told us to leave, which we did.
Nothing much of interest happened after that. The "crisis" ended a couple of hours later, just as I was leaving, and Mark got to turn all the lights back on. EXCITING
When but should we recieve an annoucement over the security intercom that PSE had experienced a series of transformer failures, and that we urgently needed to reduce power consumption by 40% or suffer a brownout. To wit: we would shut off all the lights. (Except for the emergency lights, which cannot be shut off, except via axe.)
Now, you would think that I, being a lighting maintence guy, and thus not an actual electrician, would have no duty to play in the "shutting off lights" phase, and, as a corrolary, would not be able to fufill my normal duties, since changing lights is hard if you have no way to determine which ones are dead. You would be wrong, because as a Union Square employee, I did have a valuable role to play in the "intimidating tennants" phase.
You see, the lights are shut off through the building automation system, which turns the lights on in the morning and turns them off at night. For the purposes of working late, an override switch is provided, to override the automatic shutoff and keep the lights on.
But this switch harbors a sinister secret, for it not only overrides the timers, but all commands from the management computer; say, if it was attempting to shut off the lights to prevent a brownout.
My job was thus: Track down these people, and gently point out that we had a contractual obligation to the city of seattle to shed load, and if they kept overriding management commands, we would unfortunately be forced to shut down all power to the floor; which included power to computers, critical servers, life-support machines, (also known as "coffee machines") etc.
This had the unfortunate side-effect of making me feel like a jackbooted thug.
After properly browbeating the offending tennats, I proceded to the One Union engineering office, where Don Wildes[*] and Mitchell (coming to us live by speakerphone) were manning the building management computer. I fielded calls on Don's phone while he resoved some alerts, then we proceded to 17 to clear a taped override switch.
*: My immediate supervisor for the filter changing and relief fan maintence project of 12/2007-03/2008.
Now, to me, the procedure to clear a taped override switch[**] is:
1. Remove the tape.
2. Leave.
But Don switched it up, and added a third item:
3. Stick around and tell the tennant how walking into their suite and shutting off their lights is good for them.
**: If you tape an override switch in the "on" position, then it'll constantly increment the timeout counter, and the lights will, as a result, never turn off. This is a fairly bad idea, since it means that the lights will never turn off, and thus, you know, remain on. So, removing the tape benefitted the tennant in three ways: It prevented a brownout, it saved them money on their power bill, and it saved them money on lamp replacement costs.
The person closest to the door took this as an oppratunity to point out that it was dark, that he didn't like it being so dark, and that he would rather it be brighter. At one point in his increasingly hostile rant he speculated that it "was bad engineering" for there not to be one light fixture per office. He, of course, couldn't know this, but Don is an Operating Engineer, and this is more or less a direct insult.
Don, remaining remarkably calm, replied that he should contact the architects who designed the building in 1982, and express his concerns to them, rather than the two people with the least possible ability to affect the situation. In response, he told Don that he was "tired of your sanctimonious shit", and told us to leave, which we did.
Nothing much of interest happened after that. The "crisis" ended a couple of hours later, just as I was leaving, and Mark got to turn all the lights back on. EXCITING
2008/08/13 15:15:39
a pox upon both your houses
So
O'Reilly Radar posted about the upcoming Ignite event at
Gnomedex.
"Awesome!" thought I, "An Ignite in Seattle! Where do I sign up?"
From Gnomdex's site:
Gee, this is starting to sound like one of those insanely expensive bullshit marketing "conferences". Just how much do these tickets cost, anyway?
"Awesome!" thought I, "An Ignite in Seattle! Where do I sign up?"
From Gnomdex's site:
This summer, hundreds of the world’s leading bloggers, podcasters, and tech-savvy enthusiasts will once again descend upon the city of Seattle, Washington.Hrm.
The eighth Gnomedex conference is generating buzz in the blogosphere, which underscores our reason to produce it. Indeed, we will once again become the crossroads between producers and observers, between users and developers.Uh oh.
What Do You Get?Uh oh.
* A single-track conference with quality content
* A full conference pass
* Breakfast, lunch, snacks, and beverages (unlimited)
* Wi-Fi, professionally managed
* Your own electrical outlet for power
* The official Gnomedex t-shirt
* Business networking opportunities
* Free online promotion in the Gnomedex Blogroll… and more!
Gee, this is starting to sound like one of those insanely expensive bullshit marketing "conferences". Just how much do these tickets cost, anyway?
New GnomedexerProtip, jackasses! Bloggers don't attend $600 a head conferences; people with expense accounts attend $600 a head conferences. If you want to be hip and cool, try charging about five hundred dollars less.
If you've never been to Gnomedex before, this is the ticket for you!
Aug 21, 2008 $599.00
2008/08/09 07:42:28
another day in the life
So what happened this week? Not
much!
Wednesday: My eee pc arrived, and oh my god it is just as cute as hell. Reading about it on the internet failed to convey its size, so here's some size comparisons, using random crap from around the office. (water bottle, two gig ipod nano)
And one with one of my enormous mitts covering the keyboard.
It's friggin tiny! The ergonomics are a predictable trainwreck, and it sure ain't fast, but what do you want for three hundred and ninety nine US dollars?
There was a bum violently objecting to be thrown out of the building just outside of my office today. It was a nice way to start the day.
Also, I shocked myself for the first time at work! I was replacing a ballast (for the second time, since the first one was DOA) and I brushed up against the hot wire.
Q: Why didn't you cap it off, jerkface?
A: I did, assface, but the wirenut fell off.
We use 277 volts for the lighting circuits, so it was pretty spectacular. I let out a kind of "Augh ugh ugh ugh" noise and stumbled off the ladder. I, of course, had a witness, which was great. I taped that son of a bitch wire nut back on, which was somewhat unwise, in retrospect, since I only had one more connection to make before bringing the fixture back online; but I would be damnned if I let that little bastard shock me again.
Nothing else of interest, except that the 15:40 301 was both unusually early (by a full three minutes) and unusually uncrowded.
You want more Failtrain drama? Heck yes you want more failtrain drama!
Kyonko defends himself against my vile accusations.
What happens when you shut down a server in response to widespread abuses of power? Why, people copy you. And then they impersonate you. For the record, my IP is 71.112.185.202, and I still don't know the rcon password. That didn't stop Dr. O, however. The logs are of #tf2, which is linked to the failtrain via FailtrainRelay. Comments to be relayed to the server are prefaced with !failbot.msg.
Wednesday: My eee pc arrived, and oh my god it is just as cute as hell. Reading about it on the internet failed to convey its size, so here's some size comparisons, using random crap from around the office. (water bottle, two gig ipod nano)
And one with one of my enormous mitts covering the keyboard.
It's friggin tiny! The ergonomics are a predictable trainwreck, and it sure ain't fast, but what do you want for three hundred and ninety nine US dollars?
There was a bum violently objecting to be thrown out of the building just outside of my office today. It was a nice way to start the day.
Also, I shocked myself for the first time at work! I was replacing a ballast (for the second time, since the first one was DOA) and I brushed up against the hot wire.
Q: Why didn't you cap it off, jerkface?
A: I did, assface, but the wirenut fell off.
We use 277 volts for the lighting circuits, so it was pretty spectacular. I let out a kind of "Augh ugh ugh ugh" noise and stumbled off the ladder. I, of course, had a witness, which was great. I taped that son of a bitch wire nut back on, which was somewhat unwise, in retrospect, since I only had one more connection to make before bringing the fixture back online; but I would be damnned if I let that little bastard shock me again.
Nothing else of interest, except that the 15:40 301 was both unusually early (by a full three minutes) and unusually uncrowded.
You want more Failtrain drama? Heck yes you want more failtrain drama!
Kyonko defends himself against my vile accusations.
<Kyonko_> what was this one man attack on tf2chan
<Kyonko_> what is this
<Kyonko_> and when did this happen
<Kyonko_> i do not remember doing this at all
<Breakable> i remember that lol
<Kyonko_> i only read the parts that were near my name
<bbot> when they didn't show up for the scrim, and you micspammed their server
<Breakable> it was the day we had the scrim against mantrain
<Kyonko_> well
<Kyonko_> i chatspammed
<Breakable> you went to their server and ran around
<bbot> and they got pissed, and saz had to talk them around
<Breakable> and yeah
<Breakable> did that
<bbot> and they left after a few rounds anyway
<Kyonko_> i just remember chatspamming
<Breakable> yeah it was pretty lame
<Kyonko_> i don't remember what else you guys are talking about
<bbot> that is perhaps due to your exceptional stupidity
<Kyonko_> or
[time passes]
<bbot> nice rebuttal
<Kyonko_> i know right
What happens when you shut down a server in response to widespread abuses of power? Why, people copy you. And then they impersonate you. For the record, my IP is 71.112.185.202, and I still don't know the rcon password. That didn't stop Dr. O, however. The logs are of #tf2, which is linked to the failtrain via FailtrainRelay. Comments to be relayed to the server are prefaced with !failbot.msg.
19:52 <%FailtrainRelay> (| *TKM* | Dr. O): you gonna write about it in your blog some more bbot?
19:52 < bbot> !failbot.msg WILL DO
19:53 <%FailtrainRelay> ([TGIF] Balki Bartokomous): do you have a journal?
19:53 <%FailtrainRelay> ([TGIF] Balki Bartokomous): actually
19:53 <%FailtrainRelay> (jclark): dammit, I don't get uber from you if you god mode :(
19:53 <%FailtrainRelay> ([TGIF] Balki Bartokomous): a diary seems more appropriate
19:53 <%FailtrainRelay> (| *TKM* | Dr. O): bbot does
19:53 <%FailtrainRelay> (Scruffy): !slay kermit
19:53 < bbot> !failbot.msg bbot.org/blog/
19:53 < bbot> !failbot.msg quick, alt+tab out of tf2 and go there
19:53 < bbot> !failbot.msg or, you know, not
19:54 <%FailtrainRelay> (shanitos): SPIES EVERYWHERE
19:54 <%FailtrainRelay> (OhshiAppledrink): !slay Dr. O
19:54 <%FailtrainRelay> (OhshiAppledrink): !slay Kermit
19:55 <%FailtrainRelay> (shanitos): noscope'd
19:55 < bbot> !failbot.msg !slay !@me
19:55 <%FailtrainRelay> (Ambassador Dick von Butticus): !slay some
19:55 <%FailtrainRelay> (| *TKM* | Dr. O): !slay shan
19:55 <%FailtrainRelay> (shanitos): aww
19:55 <%FailtrainRelay> ([TGIF] Balki Bartokomous): GO SAZ YOU CAN DO IT
19:55 <%FailtrainRelay> (Tach'ko): Wait for it...
19:55 <%FailtrainRelay> (King of the Internet): timeleft
19:55 <%FailtrainRelay> (Tach'ko): Got 'em
19:55 <%FailtrainRelay> (King of the Internet): nextmap
19:56 <%FailtrainRelay> (俞坤霞Eva=HKC=): lol
19:56 <%FailtrainRelay> (King of the Internet): !god kermit 0
19:56 <%FailtrainRelay> (OhshiAppledrink): !slay Saz
19:56 <%FailtrainRelay> (Scruffy): /godmode scr
19:56 <%FailtrainRelay> (Sazpaimon): !god @all 0
19:56 <%FailtrainRelay> (King of the Internet): !god @all 0
19:56 <%FailtrainRelay> (King of the Internet): !god @all 0
19:56 <%FailtrainRelay> (shanitos): ;_;
19:56 <%FailtrainRelay> (jclark): dammit, you wait until I die
19:56 <%FailtrainRelay> (King of the Internet): !slay @blue
19:56 <%FailtrainRelay> (Ambassador Dick von Butticus): doh
19:56 <%FailtrainRelay> (MajorMcOaf): lol
19:57 <%FailtrainRelay> (Justin): !noclip @all
19:57 <%FailtrainRelay> (shanitos): OH GOD
19:57 <%FailtrainRelay> (OhshiAppledrink): !unfreeze Apple
19:57 <%FailtrainRelay> (俞坤霞Eva=HKC=): D:
19:57 <%FailtrainRelay> (King of the Internet): !god king 1
19:57 <%FailtrainRelay> (| *TKM* | Dr. O): !kick @!me
19:58 <%FailtrainRelay> (俞坤霞Eva=HKC=): hurrr
19:58 -!- Scientus [chatzilla@nin.ja] has joined #tf2
19:58 <%FailtrainRelay> (shanitos): :C
19:58 <%FailtrainRelay> ([TGIF]Kermit The Frog): GO MAN, GO
19:58 <%FailtrainRelay> (King of the Internet): !god @blue 0
19:59 <%FailtrainRelay> (King of the Internet): !slay dr.
19:59 <%FailtrainRelay> (shanitos): D:
19:59 <%FailtrainRelay> (shanitos): ADMINS = FAGS
19:59 <%FailtrainRelay> (Scruffy): /slap @all 50
19:59 <%FailtrainRelay> (OhshiAppledrink): !slay Dr. O
20:00 <%FailtrainRelay> (| *TKM* | Dr. O): !ban tach'ko 30 existing
20:00 <%FailtrainRelay> (俞坤霞Eva=HKC=): D:
20:00 <%FailtrainRelay> (shanitos): BAWWW
20:00 <%FailtrainRelay> (俞坤霞Eva=HKC=): oh god
20:00 <%FailtrainRelay> (Justin): sm_rcon quit hurrrrrrrrrrrrr
20:00 <@Scruffy> /r/ removal of dr. o's cheat commands
20:01 <%FailtrainRelay> (shanitos): dohohoho
20:01 <%FailtrainRelay> (bbot): YOU GUISE R MASSIVE FAGGOTS!!! I HAET YOU ALL!!
20:01 -!- FailtrainRelay [failbot@muffins.rawr-A915721F.onlinehome-server.com] has quit [Client exited]
20:01 <@Scruffy> RAGE SERVER SHUTOFF
20:01 <@Scruffy> RAGE SERVER SHUTOFF
20:01 <@Scruffy> RAGE SERVER SHUTOFF
20:01 <@Scruffy> RAGE SERVER SHUTOFF
20:01 <@Scruffy> RAGE SERVER SHUTOFF
20:01 <@Scruffy> RAGE SERVER SHUTOFF
20:01 <@Scruffy> RAGE SERVER SHUTOFF
20:01 <@Scruffy> RAGE SERVER SHUTOFF
20:01 <@Scruffy> RAGE SERVER SHUTOFF
20:01 < bbot> !failbot.msg oh god I'm in two places at once
20:01 <@Scruffy> RAGE SERVER SHUTOFF
20:01 <@Scruffy> RAGE SERVER SHUTOFF
20:02 <@Scruffy> RAGE SERVER SHUTOFF
20:02 <@Scruffy> RAGE SERVER SHUTOFF
20:02 <+Sazpaimon/cultnet> that was great
20:02 < bbot> fucking saz inpersonating me
20:02 < bbot> er
20:02 < bbot> impersonating?
20:02 <%RMC> Wage souvah shutowff
20:02 -!- jclark [Josh_Clark@muffins.rawr-15317BAF.dynamic.ip.windstream.net] has joined #tf2
20:02 <@Scruffy> and it was dr o
20:02 <@Scruffy> not saz
20:02 <+Sazpaimon/cultnet> even without access to the server
20:02 < jclark> hurfa durf
20:02 <+Sazpaimon/cultnet> rcon from "24.240.93.5:3730": command "exit"
20:03 <@Scruffy> not my address
20:03 -!- FailtrainRelay [failbot@muffins.rawr-A915721F.onlinehome-server.com] has joined #tf2
20:03 -!- ServerMode/#tf2 [+h FailtrainRelay] by cultnet.janus
20:03 -!- DocO [Doctor@cult-ac7fcc0a.wi.charter.com] has joined #tf2
20:03 -!- ServerMode/#tf2 [+h DocO] by cultnet.janus
20:03 <%DocO> yea
20:03 <%DocO> YEA
20:03 <%DocO> YEA
20:03 <%DocO> YEA
20:03 <%DocO> YEA
20:03 <%DocO> FUCK YEA
20:03 -!- mode/#tf2 [+b *!*@*.bbot] by DocO
20:03 -!- mode/#tf2 [-b *!*@*.bbot] by Scruffy
20:03 < bbot> lol wut
20:03 <%DocO> ;_;
20:03 <+Sazpaimon/cultnet> that was the best 10 minutes of failtrain
20:03 <+Sazpaimon/cultnet> ever
20:03 <@Scruffy> yes
20:03 <%DocO> bbot why'd you crash the server?
20:03 -!- mode/#tf2 [+oooooooooooo DocO FailtrainRelay RMC Sazpaimon/cultnet bbot coleco Cryomancer/cultnet janus jclark K2 MajorMcOaf Ovolbrod] by Nikki
20:03 -!- mode/#tf2 [+oooo poe_ QuiQafooQey Quisty Scientus] by Nikki
20:03 -!- mode/#tf2 [-o+b bbot *!*@*.bbot] by DocO
20:03 -!- bbot was kicked from #tf2 by DocO [DocO]
--- Log closed Tue Aug 05 20:03:55 2008
--- Log opened Tue Aug 05 20:04:48 2008
20:04 -!- bbot [bbot@bbot.bbot] has joined #tf2
20:04 -!- Irssi: #tf2: Total of 17 nicks [5 ops, 1 halfops, 0 voices, 11 normal]
20:04 <%DocO> FUCK YOU RAXO
20:04 -!- Irssi: Join to #tf2 was synced in 3 secs
20:04 -!- mode/#tf2 [+b *!*@*.bbot] by DocO
20:04 -!- mode/#tf2 [-b *!*@*.bbot] by Scruffy
20:04 < bbot> I didn't crash the damn server, I'm still banned.
20:04 -!- mode/#tf2 [+b *!*@*.bbot] by DocO
20:04 < Vu> so
20:05 < Vu> whats going on
20:05 < Vu> over here
20:05 -!- bbot was kicked from #tf2 by DocO [DocO]
2008/08/02 22:31:08
drama triple shot
To steal part of a phrase from
Joel;
moderation is not just walking a thin line, it is walking a line of
negative width. You are damned if you do, damned if you don't and
damned if you do nothing at all.
There is a fellow on the failtrain who goes by the name of Kyonko[*]; who has been loudly proclaiming his suitability for moderatorship for quite some time now; at least since he staged a one man attack on the tf2chan server when he perceived that they had backed out on an obligation.
It is clear that he pursues mod-hood, not in the sense that he sees wrongs that need righting, but because it represents wonderful power; power that he would absolutely love to exercise in any way he could get away with.
This is the old dilemma of public office, the ones qualified wouldn't do it for any sum of money; and the ones who seek it out must never be allowed to gain it.
It strikes me, as it has another internet nutjob, that the current model[**] of administration is entirely unsuited for the task at hand. What takes the place of it could be a modified form of corporate governance.
Sell shares in a server. Each shareholder pays a portion of monthly costs in proportion to their holdings, and in return, receives moderatorship. The entire board conveners to vote on important issues, such as amendments to the server's charter, or the admission of new shareholders. Disbanding the server corporation could be through the normal process, a shareholder's meeting to liquidate their assets, then a final amendment passed to void the charter and dissolve the partnership.
For a true operating corporation, it would be ideal to actually incorporate an operating entity, then pay for the server via checks drawn from an account owned by that entity. Unfortunately, this would introduce a legal overhead, as well as possibly violate SEC regulations on issuing shares in a privately owned company. If these problems are resolved, then the corporate governance model would prove ideal for operating a server, providing enhanced oversight and continuity of operations, at the (minor) cost of significantly more inefficient decision-making processes.
*:
There is a fellow on the failtrain who goes by the name of Kyonko[*]; who has been loudly proclaiming his suitability for moderatorship for quite some time now; at least since he staged a one man attack on the tf2chan server when he perceived that they had backed out on an obligation.
It is clear that he pursues mod-hood, not in the sense that he sees wrongs that need righting, but because it represents wonderful power; power that he would absolutely love to exercise in any way he could get away with.
This is the old dilemma of public office, the ones qualified wouldn't do it for any sum of money; and the ones who seek it out must never be allowed to gain it.
It strikes me, as it has another internet nutjob, that the current model[**] of administration is entirely unsuited for the task at hand. What takes the place of it could be a modified form of corporate governance.
Sell shares in a server. Each shareholder pays a portion of monthly costs in proportion to their holdings, and in return, receives moderatorship. The entire board conveners to vote on important issues, such as amendments to the server's charter, or the admission of new shareholders. Disbanding the server corporation could be through the normal process, a shareholder's meeting to liquidate their assets, then a final amendment passed to void the charter and dissolve the partnership.
For a true operating corporation, it would be ideal to actually incorporate an operating entity, then pay for the server via checks drawn from an account owned by that entity. Unfortunately, this would introduce a legal overhead, as well as possibly violate SEC regulations on issuing shares in a privately owned company. If these problems are resolved, then the corporate governance model would prove ideal for operating a server, providing enhanced oversight and continuity of operations, at the (minor) cost of significantly more inefficient decision-making processes.
*:
(Kyonko.): DO ANY OF YOU EUROFAGS EVEN KNOW HOW TO PLAY THIS FUCKING GAME? (Kyonko.): THIS IS AMERICAN SERVER**: Typically, one person pays for the server, then appoints moderators as he sees fit. These moderators typically have unlimited discretion and zero oversight. If the actions of a moderator incite user protest, which is rare, since it's effectively impossible to contact the server owner if they don't set a contact e-mail and if the mods are unhelpful; then he'll terminate the tenure of that moderator, since he owns the server, which makes him the final authority.
(Kyonko.): GET OUT
(Kyonko.): THIS IS AMERICAN SERVER
(Kyonko.): GET OUT
(Kyonko.): THIS IS AMERICAN SERVER
(Kyonko.): THIS IS AMERICAN SERVER
(Kyonko.): GET OUT
(Kyonko.): THIS IS AMERICAN SERVER
(Kyonko.): GET OUT
(Kyonko.): THIS IS AMERICAN SERVER
(Kyonko.): GET OUT
(Kyonko.): THIS IS AMERICAN SERVER
(Kyonko.): GET OUT
(Kyonko.): THIS IS AMERICAN SERVER
(Kyonko.): GET OUT
(Kyonko.): THIS IS AMERICAN SERVER
(Kyonko.): GET OUT
(Kyonko.): THIS IS AMERICAN SERVER
(Kyonko.): GET OUT
(Kyonko.): THIS IS AMERICAN SERVER
(Kyonko.): GET OUT
(Kyonko.): THIS IS AMERICAN SERVER
(Kyonko.): GET OUT
(Kyonko.): GET OUT
(Kyonko.): GET OUT
2008/08/02 08:47:03
drama double shot
(This is going to be mildly
technical, and severely boring, if you do not have the benefit of
context regarding the issues at hand. Beware.)
So a couple of days ago, Justin and Apple were behaving in a manner I felt unbefitting their status as moderators. Their behavior, though unseemly, did not justify the use of a ban, and kicks tend to inflame. So I shut down the server by using sm_rcon to remotely execute the quit command; something that I wouldn't normally be able to do, since sm_rcon is an enormous security risk. This had the dual advantage of stopping the abusive behavior, and exploiting the vulnerability in such a manner that the server admin, Sazpaimon, had no choice but to fix it. He messaged me a couple of hours later, pointed out that that was a dick move, and we preceded to have a nice discussion on the topic of rcon. (Read: screaming argument) My position is thus: sm_rcon allows privileged elevation of non-privileged users, since rcon'ed commands run at superuser level, and also obfuscates accountability by removing the initiator's name from the executed command. At the time of writing, sm_rcon has not been disabled, nor have my privileges been revoked.
So either:
1.) My arguments in favor of removing my access to sm_rcon were so well-reasoned and persuasive that I convinced him of my sound judgment in all things, obviating the need to remove it.
Or
2.) He hasn't gotten around to it yet. (Update: He did get around to it. Then he banned me from the server.)
Whatever the reason, I am still presented with the problem of sm_rcon. We have a tool to remotely execute commands, and it's called rcon. This is a common element in sourcemods. What isn't poorly designed or half-thought-out is actively unconscionable. Take sm_blind, or sm_drug, or sm_mute, or any of a dozen similar commands. If someone is breaking the rules, you should warn, then kick them. Slaying them, or blinding them, is cruel and unusual punishment in the truest sense of the word; designed purely for the amusement of the administrators.
The critical flaw here is that moderating TF2 is hard, for two reasons. One, it's a video game. Since you pull moderators from the pool of heavy users, you end up with a moderation team consisting entirely of people of play video games all the time; which isn't a recipe for finding stable, well-adjusted members of society.
And two, people playing a video game, are, wait for it, playing a video game. It's not like running a dramafest over IRC or in a forum, where logs are trivially easy to reproduce and evidence is made public. In a video game, drama takes place over in-game chat and voice communications, both of which and ephemeral and difficult to document. If that wasn't enough, everyone is busy. Half the people in the server won't be paying attention, a non-trivial fraction don't speak English, and a couple of people will be AFK; leaving four or five people who have to speak in clipped sentences or else they'll be killed while typing.
This is not an environment which fosters justice and well-reasoned discussion; it is one that encourages the admins to ban people so they can get back to playing. This is not the fault of the moderators, it is the fault of architectural flaws inherent to the system.
But I'm not just whining! These problems can be fixed, if not entirely trivially. First, rip out all the eighth amendment violating crap. This also includes sm_god, sm_noclip, and their vile ilk. Secondly, enhance accountability for moderators. Currently, kick messages are printed to chat console, and are less than visible, especially given their importance. It would also be nice if the server logs were automatically parsed for admin actions, and digests published to a web server.
So a couple of days ago, Justin and Apple were behaving in a manner I felt unbefitting their status as moderators. Their behavior, though unseemly, did not justify the use of a ban, and kicks tend to inflame. So I shut down the server by using sm_rcon to remotely execute the quit command; something that I wouldn't normally be able to do, since sm_rcon is an enormous security risk. This had the dual advantage of stopping the abusive behavior, and exploiting the vulnerability in such a manner that the server admin, Sazpaimon, had no choice but to fix it. He messaged me a couple of hours later, pointed out that that was a dick move, and we preceded to have a nice discussion on the topic of rcon. (Read: screaming argument) My position is thus: sm_rcon allows privileged elevation of non-privileged users, since rcon'ed commands run at superuser level, and also obfuscates accountability by removing the initiator's name from the executed command. At the time of writing, sm_rcon has not been disabled, nor have my privileges been revoked.
So either:
1.) My arguments in favor of removing my access to sm_rcon were so well-reasoned and persuasive that I convinced him of my sound judgment in all things, obviating the need to remove it.
Or
2.) He hasn't gotten around to it yet. (Update: He did get around to it. Then he banned me from the server.)
Whatever the reason, I am still presented with the problem of sm_rcon. We have a tool to remotely execute commands, and it's called rcon. This is a common element in sourcemods. What isn't poorly designed or half-thought-out is actively unconscionable. Take sm_blind, or sm_drug, or sm_mute, or any of a dozen similar commands. If someone is breaking the rules, you should warn, then kick them. Slaying them, or blinding them, is cruel and unusual punishment in the truest sense of the word; designed purely for the amusement of the administrators.
The critical flaw here is that moderating TF2 is hard, for two reasons. One, it's a video game. Since you pull moderators from the pool of heavy users, you end up with a moderation team consisting entirely of people of play video games all the time; which isn't a recipe for finding stable, well-adjusted members of society.
And two, people playing a video game, are, wait for it, playing a video game. It's not like running a dramafest over IRC or in a forum, where logs are trivially easy to reproduce and evidence is made public. In a video game, drama takes place over in-game chat and voice communications, both of which and ephemeral and difficult to document. If that wasn't enough, everyone is busy. Half the people in the server won't be paying attention, a non-trivial fraction don't speak English, and a couple of people will be AFK; leaving four or five people who have to speak in clipped sentences or else they'll be killed while typing.
This is not an environment which fosters justice and well-reasoned discussion; it is one that encourages the admins to ban people so they can get back to playing. This is not the fault of the moderators, it is the fault of architectural flaws inherent to the system.
But I'm not just whining! These problems can be fixed, if not entirely trivially. First, rip out all the eighth amendment violating crap. This also includes sm_god, sm_noclip, and their vile ilk. Secondly, enhance accountability for moderators. Currently, kick messages are printed to chat console, and are less than visible, especially given their importance. It would also be nice if the server logs were automatically parsed for admin actions, and digests published to a web server.
2008/07/30 23:55:07
this bike is a pipebomb
"Emotions still running high after Critical Mass confrontation"
from the Seattle
Times.
In any event, it'll be interesting to see the official fallout.
A melee erupted Friday night in Seattle's Capitol Hill neighborhood between a motorist and a group of Critical Mass cyclists. The driver and cyclists blame each other for escalating the incident into a violent clash that sent two men to local hospitals, two men to jail and a battered Subaru Impreza to an impound yard with $1,500 in damages.I'm commenting on this four days after it happened, which officially makes me the slowest blogger ever; but speaking as someone who commuted by bicycle for six years, bicyclists hate cars. Fucking hate them! And I can guarantee that the kind of crazy biker who attends a rolling protest isn't going to be happy about some fat asshole who is killing the planet to get to a restaurant faster. Hitting a bicyclist with your car in such an environment is somewhat equivalent to holding forth on the genetic deficiencies of Africans in South Central Los Angeles circa 1992.
In any event, it'll be interesting to see the official fallout.