25 March 2009

When life gives you shit...

You, um, can't really do much, sometimes. This has got to be the most unlucky guy in the world. Either that or he's a cyborg.

23 March 2009

Babblestar Galactica

Title link contains spoilers.
The sad part? I saw this coming when the series started. In fact, I saw every major plot twist in this series coming. Lame. The only thing that makes me kind of like it is the "lol spacebrawls" factor. The storyline? Crap, pure and simple. Macross Frontier has a better one.

17 March 2009

Fuck my neighbors.

I hate them. One of them decided to crack my wireless network last night and as a result, I had to spend 8 hours today trying to get things back to the way they were, unsuccessfully. Apparently my hacked Airport Express is now broken, irrevocably, and will no longer boost my network. Which means I am basically holding everything together with spit and duct tape, and it will no doubt break as soon as I leave. I hate life.

16 March 2009


I'm sitting at my family computer, enjoying some music on my old speakers I donated to the family, catching up on gaming news and webcomics, when a notification catches my eye-- "Wireless connection 2 is now connected to *****[SSID blanked for security reasons] (unsecured)"
Eh, whatever, my wireless is hiccuping. It does that, since I run a rather odd topology at home-- a router bridged to a hacked airport express, so I can get around the amazingly non-802.11-friendly walls in my house.
Wait. "(unsecured)"? I run WPA!
I sit there for about 5 seconds, my mind blanking. Someone is trying to subvert my network! I jump to my feet and dash through the house, up to my room, where the router is. Diving onto the floor, I smack the powerstrip's on/off switch in a blind panic. Blessed silence as the router and DSL modem die.
I grab my cell phone and keys, put on shoes, and dash out the front door, murder on my mind and a wardriver to find.
No luck, unfortunately. That means it's one of my asshole neighbors. Sigh.
And now I'm off to change the WPA passphrase and enable MAC filtering again.

13 March 2009

So you died?

There's something very disconcerting about getting an email from your former self.

There I was, sitting pretty, blasting through the interstellar black at 5 AU per second, and slowing by the second. The stargate was ahead of me, gleaming in the wan light from the system's primary, and I was working my way through one of the latest holodramas: "Station On Station," a classic medical drama from the early post-gate era, about a frontier starbase doctor. I had a Asteroid Brewing Corporation 'Amarrian Heritage Stout' open next to me (virtual, but it was almost as good as a real beer), and I had my legs up on the control panel, just enjoying the starscape and Doctor Station's occasionally cruel but entirely justified antics on-screen.
Then the holosim blinked out, abruptly, and tactical data started blasting into my retinas. I was locked up, hard. I swore and pivoted, tasking a camera drone, but he had me cold. I was still decelerating from warp, unable to do a thing, and he had obviously been following me for a system or two. I cursed my carelessness and locked him back, just as his first volley hit me, punching through the Uncharitable Remark's shields and armor. A Hyperion, I noted. Gallente blaster boat. Definitely overkill for a tiny frigate like mine. A priate, then, I thought, triggering the afterburners in a last vestige of hope. Maybe I could...?
The answer was a resounding no, as the second volley blew through my now-paper-thin armor and ripped into the reactor core. I sighed and hit the ejection command sequence, my pod exploding out of the wreckage of my ship, twirling in space as I cursed and resignedly replotted my course. But the targeting alarm did not abate. I checked it, and swore, vehemently. This was no simple pirate. He had targeted my pod, the thin meter of tritanium between my body and the cold void. I triggered my comms, trying to get through: Silence. As I saw his blasters charging for the killing blow, I couldn't help but wonder-- what would death feel like?

I woke up, feeling like I had forgotten something.. but it was so hazy, like an old dream. Then I realized I was in a clone tank, and I remembered the events surrounding my awakening all too clearly. Accessing my reno's email function, I saw a small, inoccuous mesage from... myself. Dated sixteen hours ago. I opened it.

2009.03.14 02:12
So you died? Well, you have a Clone Grade Eta at Akhragan VIII - Moon 5 - Ministry of Internal Order Logistic Support station. Enjoy your afterlife.

Shivering, I climbed out of the tank of gel, shrugging off the attendant's attempt to help. I had a life to reclaim.

Occasionally I'll post in-character stories from my travels in EVE Online, of which this is the first. I hope you enjoy them.

10 March 2009


So, I was going to log in, write an angry emo post about hate and wage wage wage, but then I accidentally went to the shack and found INTERNETS JESUS staring at me, offering me a long island iced tea in one hand and an amazing Russian call-girl in the other, and some cocaine on a mirror at his feet. I partook, and it was GOOOOOOOOD.
So, now that thou hast partaken of the awesome in the title link, bear with me.
A 2000% INCREASE IN PLAYERS? One free weekend. That's all. Oh right, and an expansion pack that substantially buffed the content offerings of the game.
Now UT3 has CTF, vCTF, DM, TDM, Greed, WAR, and my personal favorite, Betrayal. If you read my blog at all, you know how much I relish being a dick to people online. This gametype is made JUST FOR ME, AND NOBODY ELSE.
The gist of it is so very simple- You are on a team. Everyone else is fair game. You shoot them, you get frags, they go into the team pot. The twist? To KEEP the frags, and add them to your personal total, you have to KILL YOUR TEAMMATES.
Excuse me while I go laugh evilly in the corner.
Ok, better now.
In addition, when you kill a teammate, you become fair game for everyone in the game. If one of your former teammates get revenge on you, they get a bonus! If you avoid revenge for a full minute, you get a bonus! This gametype rewards not garden-variety asshattery, but STRATEGIC, CLEVER, PREMEDITATED asshattery. I LOVE IT!
The bots suck at it. But people, oh they are a joy. It is so satisfying when you suddenly realize that you have 20 frags in the pot, and you haven't seen a teammate in about 30 seconds. Suddenly, you get this evil smile and start thinking, "oh hai mister teammate, let's team up and... yeah... you go first." BLAM. +20 frags. And then the announcer roars "ASSASSIN!" in the most badass voice ever.
The crowning touch? In the scoreboard, and on your teamlist, you can see how many betrayals someone as committed as little knives next to their name. That really good nice, quiet teammate of yours? Yeah, he also happens to have SEVEN knives next to his name. Guess you should just tag along behind, huh?

In addition, Penny Arcade has now become funny again.

In addition, here is my rant from before, short though it now is after hearing the good news of internet jesus.
So, here I am in the Airport Lounge, working, and I see some devastatingly cute girl with short hair and a low-back top trying to get the print to work. Being the pathetic wretch I am, I immediately think of helping her. And this is where my troubles begin.
See, I have to wonder: Should I do something? It is so totally NOT my job. The monitor is sitting right there, but she's not doing jack. I could diagnose and fix it, I am sure. But I would have to go and DO it, and I am supposed to be doing my own work right now. But I cannot bear to see people, mostly just pretty girls, having trouble with computers. But if I do go and do it, how pathetic does that make me? Very?
I did it anyway. She was thankful. In one ear, out the other. I can't help but think of something I heard once- What's the difference between a friendless misanthrope and the life of the party with a steady non-crazy girlfriend?
Care to guess?
9 months of conscious behavior modification.
The only question that I have is this: Can the life of the party still live with himself when he's alone at night?
If it were me, the all-too-familiar answer would be "no," I think.

08 March 2009


I managed to stand three hours in a room with her without passing out from anxiety. Go me. Also, she's so wonderfully pretending nothing's happened between us.
Vile. Just vile.

04 March 2009

It still stuns me...

How, after so much, someone can still have such a strong effect on me. Except now it's fear and loathing, not love. It's astonishing how much her very presence disturbs me now. Ugh.