The Trust Game

Just got an email from the FBI informing me that the FBI agents I’m (apparently)  dealing with to obtain the money I’m (apparently) owed by the Nigerian Government as compensation for all the money I (apparently) lost to 419 scammers are fraudsters, and not the real FBI at all. Additionally the bank that these fraudulent agents are (apparently) dealing with on my behalf is not the actual Central Bank of Nigeria, and as such I should only deal with the Central Bank of Nigeria that these new, real FBI agents are (apparently) putting me in touch with.

I just don’t know who to trust anymore! ;D

The Red Castle

The Red Castle

Back in the day, the Red Castle Motel was the place to be in Perth. Situated just outside the CBD with river and city views, and on the main road to the airport, it was a medieval themed paradise. Many couples (this being in the days before cheap airfares made international honeymoons from one of the most isolated cities on Earth viable) spent their wedding nights there – numberless are the Perthites who claim to have been conceived with its walls. Not only a place to stay, the castle was also a well regarded nightspot, where you could dine beneath the watchful gaze of suits of armour in the revolving King Arthur’s Table restaurant, or wander the gardens where a hand grasping the sword Excalibur would emerge from a pond on the hour, every hour.

But alas, time moves on. Faux Arthurian medievalism went out of fashion as Western Australia slowly moved away from its British roots and started to look towards Asia. The Castle gradually changed from fashionable accommodation to slightly shabby, to a glorified truckstop, to a regular truckstop and eventually into a complete fleapit. The revolving restaurant struggled on under a variety of names before eventually shuddering to a halt and closing, and a fire that destroyed the penthouse level in September of 2012 was the final straw. The once iconic structure is soon to be demolished, and the site redeveloped for housing.

So naturally, as a badly decayed landmark that is soon to vanish I made some time today to go and photograph it.

The set can be seen here. The place is pretty well locked up. I would have been willing to try and find a way in, except for the fact that there was a car parked inside and some lights were on in the front building, so I decided that discretion was the better part of valour and just photographed from the street. Nonetheless you can tell that it would have been an impressive place back in the 60’s – particularly in sleepy little Perth. Burswood will never be quite same without that tower looming over the horizon, no matter how awful the establishment below it may have been.

It may be of some interest that among the photos is the 10,000th one in my photostream. How about that then?

They can *all* read my thoughts!

I had occasion to play the Firefly board game with Paula and Bek yesterday. It was a lot of fun – although we actually played it a bit wrong – but I am kind of miffed because the whole thing is quite obviously stolen from the Firefly card game that I started to develop some years back – Plyin’ the Black.

Now, obviously I kid. I do not actually think Gale Force Nine are stealing my thoughts. The fact that a good 75% of the mechanics and ideas in the board game are the same as in my card game is a fascinating example of congruent evolution, and clearly the result of people experienced with a large range of existing games working from the same source material. It’s just downheartening to realise that the time and effort I put into my system has been wasted, because even were I to dig it out and finish development Plyin’ the Black would forever look like blatant plagiarism.

But hey, the board game is really well done and I’ll be buying a copy as soon as I have collected the requisite funds. And the master Plyin’ the Black rulebook is signed by Jewel Staite and Summer Glau, so let’s see Gale Force Nine match that! 😉

Later: Hmmm, maybe I could create a mashup of both games and create a boardless version. Something to think about…

Updates

I haven’t been making any posts this week as I thought it’d be better to wait until I got everything transferred to the new server, but as is usually the case this is taking longer than anticipated. I now hope to get it sorted early to mid next week.

In the meantime, the video card on my home PC has given up the ghost, which means I’ll have to put it into the shop all weekend. No internet access for an entire weekend – especially one with temperatures tipped to get close to 40° – may well drive me mad, so when the Wyrmlog comes back up please don’t be surprised if it resembles Sixth World Problems.

On the subject of numerical world problems, please take a look at how much fun I had this week pretending to be a 14th century peasant who stumbled over an iMac and mistook everyone on Reddit for spirits and demons.

OK, that’s it. See you in the funny pages.

Don’t Panic!

I went to Canberra, had a good time, came back, and in the meantime the Wyrmlog got shut down as a precaution to do with some server security issues. You win some, you lose some I guess.

I’ve turned it back on so I can back it up and then make the switch to a brand new, up-to-date and altogether awesomer Wyrmlog on a more secure server. This means it may be down for a little longer, and it may take a while for the styling to get back up to its current standard. But hey, you come here for the content, right?

So bear with me for the next couple of weeks…

A New England

People ask me when will you grow up to be a man? But all the girls I loved at school are already pushing prams.

So, on Saturday night it was my 20 year high school reunion.

I didn’t go to the 10th year reunion. I was – as blog entries from that far off era will attest – still bitter and twisted out of shape about the less enjoyable aspects of my high school career. But I’ve mellowed out over the last decade and decided to put in an appearance at the Rose and Crown in Guildford at 7:00 in the evening to see what could be seen.

As it turned out, what could be seen was a really good turn out, including in particular my old friend Mark who hasn’t been in Perth for a good five years. Justin also turned up (after I phoned him on the Friday to remind him it was on) and I divided the evening between lurking with them and wandering out to inveigle my way into various conversations and catch ups.

It was a really good night. Our principal Mr Mulchay turned up for a while, as did chemistry teacher Mr Sorge. About half the people looked the same – with some extra weight, a few wrinkles round the eyes and (for the guys) less hair (apart from Daniel who had a beard Ned Kelly would be proud of). The rest looked like complete strangers, but a good half of those were identifiable after comparing nametags (I had no idea who the hell the remaining 25% were, but that’s the way it goes I guess ;))

Particularly gratifying from my viewpoint was catching up with Renee, who’d been one of the main organisers of the event. She was a major part of my high school experience in that she was the most popular and beautiful girl in the year to pay me any attention at all. I was constantly half in love with her and remember being more or less struck dumb in her presence, but she apparently remembers me as being really smart and funny, and us sitting together at the back of the room in English with me continually making her laugh. So that’s nice to get another perspective on 🙂

She’d also read the Tales of the Geek Underclass at some point (I suspect due to Ryan’s pimping it on Facebook), thought they were great and demanded that I write more. As my old PCG associate Lincoln also complemented them I probably shall.

It was also nice when later in the night she wandered over to the table I’d sat down at (my feet were killing me at that point – one of the perils of letting yourself age for twenty years) put her arm around me and repeatedly told everyone “I love this guy!”. I must admit she was a bit worse the wear for drink at that point, but it still had the tiny ghost of 17 year old me doing cartwheels somewhere deep in my soul ;). As one of the major social hubs of the event her presence summoned a wide variety of people to the table and that same tiny ghost was overawed at hanging with all the cool kids for a while – including Sherri and Rebecca which along with Renee made up a two thirds reunion of my year 10 English table.

I caught up with plenty of other people too. One person I was particularly happy to see was the girl (I suppose I should really say woman shouldn’t I?) I had a major crush on all through year 12. In contrast to most of the rest of the attendees she hadn’t changed a bit – I recognised her immediately, and was surprised to find my heart briefly skipping a beat when I did so.

She also had exactly the same laugh, which – again to my surprise – made me come over all… well I can’t think of a suitable adjective, but you know how it feels when you hear someone you’re crazy about laugh. It took me back for a moment to when I was an awkward, nerdy 17 year old still trying to figure out the world – as opposed to an awkward nerdy 37 year old beaten down by it. That alone was worth the admission cost.

(Of course, even if I were to mistake those emotional echoes for anything real, she – like most of my former classmates – is married with a couple of kids. She seems to be doing really well for herself, which is the best you can really wish for anyone.)

The evening went on, with the crowd thinning out, until midnight, when the Rose and Crown staff explained that they’d really prefer to close. Someone who I recognised and had spoken to earlier in the night but whose name has escaped me took it on himself to climb up on a table and draw the night to a conclusion with three cheers for the organisers, and a call for those who wanted to keep partying to reconvene at the Casino. I was so tired by that point that I was becoming positively gregarious, so after some goodbyes (including hugs from Renee and Rayanne who… well, any guy who was there would agree that she certainly changed… I mean, wow!) got a lift home with Justin, with a stop off at Alfred’s kitchen on the way.

It was a great night, but in the end there was a little touch of melancholy. For one evening we were again those bright, brilliant, amazing kids of twenty years ago with our whole lives ahead of us. I think that’s why the night went on so long – if our 37 year old bodies would have held out and the Rose and Crown stayed open I think we would have stayed till the sun came up, just to try and hold on to who we used to be. But reality calls and we had to go back to our lives and on our separate ways. I suppose that’s always the way it is with reunions. You can’t go back, and – in the clear light of day – would you really want to? One night is enough.

That said, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. Roll on 2023!

Sweet Liquor Eases the Pain

Goddamn I love codeine!

That sounds good doesn’t it? What I actually mean is that my shoulder (which has been problematic for years) has really been playing up for the last couple of days and making my life a misery. I popped into the pharmacy this morning, bought some codeine and now I can actually use my left arm without feeling like someone’s been hammering nails into my scapula.

Now of course, I’m being careful. Codeine is one of those drugs that you don’t mess around with. It actually only does what it does because your body metabolises it into morphine (assuming you have the correct genes of course – some individuals lack the requisite enzymes and hence codeine does nothing for them), and we all know how badly that stuff can mess you up. I also have what is commonly referred to as an addictive personality type, so I’m generally reluctant to break out the serious medication without carefully watching what I do with it. But hey, for now my pain is relieved and I’m a much happier chapie.

(I’ll let you know if I feel any sudden urges to wrestle octopuses…)

Oh yeah, new heir to the throne and such. Boo! Hooray! Boo! Hooray! Call me when you’re finished…

Malaise

One of my work colleagues has been extremely ill this week. He’s come into the office for a few hours this morning and informed us that on Monday night he was so delirious that he hallucinated the characters from Animal Crossing trying to sell him sleep.

In terms of my own health I spent a couple of hours in hospital that same night with the same old anxiety attack masquerading as a heart attack symptoms that I know and love so well. I was pretty sure it was just an anxiety attack but the problem is that no matter what I may think intellectually, the anxiety (and symptoms) won’t actually go away until I have some kind of medical confirmation that there’s nothing wrong and I’m not actually going to keel over dead.

Now I’d be happy with a simple ECG, but they have this annoying “duty of care” concept in the health system and wouldn’t let me leave until a couple of blood tests came in, so I was stuck in an observation ward for a couple of hours when I’d much rather have been at home looking for horses in Minecraft. But hey, whatever.

Two interesting observations. To calm me down (although frankly after my ECG came back as normal I was perfectly calm) they gave me a diazepam. This is apparently quite popular as a recreational drug – I can’t imagine why as all it did for me was make me feel unpleasantly disorientated, give me a headache and get NoFx’s Creeping Out Sarah stuck in my brain. Since alcohol makes me feel the same way (with the exception of the bit about aging Los Angeles punk musicians) I rather suspect that my autistic brain just isn’t wired up in such a way to enjoy getting high. Eh. No great loss.

The other observation is related to evolution. Goosebumps are often mentioned in science texts as an evolutionary relic of the time when humans had fur. When we get cold, we get goosebumps because our bodies are trying to fluff up our fur to trap a layer of warm air. This obviously no longer works, except – as I have maintained for years – in my case it does work, because I am hairy enough for some air trapping to take place.

She asks me why, I’m just a hairy guy…

It’s not anything that will stand up to even a slight breeze, but if the air is still I can warm myself up a degree or so by switching on my goosebumps (I have some slight conscious control over them).

As X-Powers go it’s not going to get me hanging out with Wolverine any time soon, but it’s a hell of a lot better than being one of those normal people.

The reason I mention this is because in order to attach the various sensors for the ECG they had to shave some patches of my chest hair. And stomach hair. And side hair (I’m hairy high and low, don’t ask me why, don’t know…). Ever since, I’ve been acutely conscious of exactly where they did this, as walking down the street I can feel those areas as cold patches, even under a shirt and coat.

Weird huh? Who would have thought a nice, modern gentleman such as myself could rely so heavily on left over parts from the apes and monkeys.

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