Eating Bees

Google gets in the act. GoogleSpaceBook!

Wonder what this will do, if anything, to the walled gardens.

FWIW, my vote is “not much.” Look at internet dating - you have eHarmony and Match, and you also have Jdate and Atlasphere. (The latter is a site, with a dating service for people trying to live their lives by Ayn Rand’s philosophy. Wow, a dating service for those who say they’re into open marriages, but later turn out to be less enthusiastic when they get moved to the back burner for a younger sex toy?) Look at internet news. You have the CNN, the BBC, and yet people read Matt Drudge on purpose. Just saying, sometimes people want to specialize.

I am filled, FILLED I SAY, with loathing for Verizon, Sprint, Long Fence, moving in general, and above all, Maryland. But I finally have a real internet connection, my yard is beagle proof, and really, Maryland is pretty nice except for the weird smell of Yankee you get this close to the border.

It is in support of one of my favorite Yankees that I herald my return to blogging today.

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[12:02] (name redacted): http://www.moorgard.com/?p=186
[12:02] (name redacted): !
[12:04] Sanya: /peer
[12:05] Sanya: *I* am not going to say anything about MMO players being too sophisticated for peer pressure, given that MMO players also think the slutty elf armor in WOW is hot.
[12:05] Sanya: But still. Words fail.
[12:05] (name redacted): yeah
[12:05] Sanya: I should make this into a blog entry.

I… I want a pair. No, really.

(We got a buyer for our house, we’ve made an offer on another, it’s nine degrees outside, and I have sundry other bits of personal drama going on - pardon the unnatural quiet around here.)

Top MMO list at F13.

Please follow the damn directions. I’d be disgusted if one of my seven readers didn’t get his list counted because he could not READ.

Someday I’m going to write a Defense of LOTRO post, though, because if one more person makes fun of me in IM, I’m going to go totally nazgul.

I really am trying not to laugh.

Full disclosure: I have worked with, and quite like, several people at this PR firm.

Side note: Raise your hands if you thought a PR firm was supposed to do anything BESIDES generate positive buzz for their clients. Lordy. What a non-issue this is. Even if it’s not a typo, and the PR kids were going to get bonuses for actual positive reviews, I still refuse to clench my underpants up to my lungs in angst. A positive review, even from a perfectly honest journalist, is often a function of the environment in which they reviewed the product. The PR firm that places a pre-armored, pre-buffed character on an account (and possibly arranges to have an actual developer helping the reviewer over the rough spots) is merely being proactive. ESPECIALLY with MMOs, which are impossible to review in two hours. Don’t like it? Make sure you only read reviews by someone who played through the whole beta in their own basement instead of playing for two hours at a press event. Caveat emptor.

Who gives a shit about Ike Turner, Terry Pratchett’s still with us. But that sound you heard this morning was me going Aaaa-OOOOOOOH!!! Oh yes. Multiple exclamation points. I believe that in this case, multiples are called for.

True story:  After I read Monstrous Regiment, I realized I could occupy myself at game conferences, interminable meetings, and podcasts by imagining the sort of socks the speaker had. Tennis anklets with little pom pom balls on them came up a really disturbing amount of the time. (Do they still make those?) One person, who thinks he is The Man but I generally question whether or not he is even *a* man, given his propensity for whining, totally has gold toe space age fiber wicking action socks with padded heels and reinforced arches. And when I’m feeling generous, I kind of want to say, listen, they’re just socks. You don’t have to prove anything. You could probably just have cotton crew socks. They’d be just as comfortable and you’d worry less about losing them, or having people laugh as soon as you walk away.

Unfortunately, these days I’m usually feeling a touch petty (not knowing where I’m going to live in sixty-eight days will do that), and I snicker a bit at what a small little package these supposed socks of the future are when they’re rolled up.

For the record, I have black cotton socks with little red Scottie dogs knitted in. No idea what that MEANS, really.

Oh, wait, I’m not that shocked.