dezzyparrish

[dezzyparrish]

We gotta get out of this place, if it’s the last thing we ever do.

I’ve been working on a world-setting since November 2015 (really December, since my notebook reminds me that the technical inception date is Nov 30).  I’m usually working on some sort of world setting or a campaign background or musing about the Universe in my imagination.  Anyone whose known me more than a week has figured that out.  Fahr Ryasc is the latest iteration.  It keeps getting larger and deeper the more I go on.  Because I’ve realized over 40 years of TTRPG gaming, that there are *plenty* of fantasy worlds out there.  Everything from Middle-Earth and Narnia, the lands of Faerie, Avalon, up to Greyhawk and the Forgotten Realms and Wildmount or Eberron.  Designed my much better authors and writers than myself.  In the case of the IPs owned by companies, those worlds are the work of hundreds of authors.. maybe thousands over decades.  My point is.. 13th-15th Century Western Europe Fantasy analogues are super-well represented.  I can’t use shorthand when developing Fahr Ryasc.

Since we’ve started lockdown, Fahr Ryasc is my escape.  I dream about it, think about it, waste perfectly good time daydreaming about it.  Hell, I spent a lot of Friday Morning just thinking about how Farms look in the various realms and regions in Fahr Ryasc. 

(if you’re curious.. I haven’t designed anything firm yet, but the farms which support the Irex of the Old Xjinn Empire are very specialized, large plantations which have evolved to provide specific food and raw material products for the Irex to manufacture into the things necessary to sustain their large populations and industries.  Whereas the Tuath of the Bryndffolk still maintain much smaller, more diverse Farms and Ranches worked by single extended families for their own benefit. For the Kharzian Empire, agriculture is an extension of their Stratocracy and supports the Kharzian armies and fleets)

Point is, I exhausted my brain this weekend.  The moment I’m off work (from home), I transition over to diving head-first into Fahr Ryasc and push myself to produce.  I gotta pour it all out ya see.  And then I have to shape what comes out into some sort of “thing” that other human beings can comprehend.  It’s a lot of work.  On top of the lot of work that the job I enjoy expects from me, which - because I can’t hear the usual work chatter in the office - No matter how hard I push myself on that front, my anxieties continually remind me that I’m the weak link on the team and I go to slow don’t focus nearly well enough and don’t have the knowledge base or skills to do my job effiiciently.

You know.. delusional privileged first world problems.

And on top of that, every time I’ve come up for air and looked around the rest of my community or my state or my country.. it’s on fire.  So I don’t do that as much as my mind will let me.  Which sends me back into Fahr Ryasc. Because there.. that little subcontinent hasn’t been on lockdown for four months.  Their people aren’t facing an avalanche of cascading catastrophes.  I can try to live in and among the world inside my own head.  Did you know the recently arrived Yarl have taken so well to their new home that the language they speak is cross-integrating with the Xjinn language of Irexi and the Bryndffolk dialects in the Khorian Basin?  Furthermore because the Bryndffolk and the Tralfolk have been rivals since the Black Shroud was dispelled generations ago, those two languages have freely been exchanging words and dialects. 

I want to share this with the world. I *need* to share this with the world.  And that’s why I can’t just be content with having it all in my head, I need it in yours too.  So when I reach the point of my life where I am no longer to distinguish fantasy from reality.. there’s at least a chance that someone will understand when I go on and on about how the seafood chowder in the New Dock Ward of Kaaros is the best chowder that can be found anywhere on the Marakhor Sea.

What would really make me happy is if someone humored me in that far-off time and made an old man a bowl of seafood chowder in Kaarosi style.

I spent most of Sunday napping and rising and napping.  Never really able to focus on anything I wanted or needed to accomplish and when I got up for work today, I really wasn’t refreshed from my three-day weekend.

[dezzyparrish]

Six Months to go

I still have friends and family who steadfastly remain Republican (”Conservative” they insist, they aren’t drones who follow the GOP blindly...  they follow Fox News blindly!).  For five years, since the last election began in earnest, I’ve argued with this group.  Sometimes I provoke them, sometimes I allow myself to be provoked.  I gave up trying to change their mind when the administration opened concentration camps in Texas (and elsewhere.. and they’re still open.. and there’s children still separated from their parents living there).  I spent a couple of years trying to shout into the wilderness of Social Media, hoping that the undecided voters, the inactive voters might hear and lend their voice towards the better angels of our country.

That latter crowd, the undecided and inactive, is really small in our polarized environment.  But why I’m speaking out again, with six months to go before November’s elections is an ugly resurgence of “both sides are wrong, both sides are right, it’s just a matter of the ideals we hold” argument coming from my Conservative friends.  I’m sharing it here instead of Facebook, because... *sigh* The World is on Fire, we’re in the middle of a pandemic, giant murder hornets have invaded the Olympia Coast in Washington, a POLAR VORTEX has formed over the Northeast in MAY, and Facebook is a trash fire of bile and hatred.

But back to “both sides”.  Don’t get sucked in to it.  Especially now.  “Joe Biden is alleged to have sexually assaulted an aide.  Donald Trump is alleged to have sexually assaulted women over his long career.  Aren’t all these powerful men the same?  It doesn’t matter that one’s a Democrat and the other is Republican,if you don’t condemn Biden after condemning Trump, how big of a partisan hypocrite are you?”  When the bait is taken, we’ll launch into a block of text about details, we’ll compare the allegation against Biden against those against Trump and so on and so forth.  The right then turns to anyone in earshot and shouts “CHECKMATE LIBERALS!”

Joe Biden has a serious allegation to deal with right now.  Tara Reade shouldn’t be dismissed in the public debate. How Joe Biden manages these allegations in the public square, in a Presidential Campaign is a factor in what sort of Chief Executive he will make.  If these allegations move to legal action, Biden will need to defend himself.  That being said, the choice WE as voters have to make in November is between Joe Biden and a second Donald Trump term.  They are NOT even close to being equivalent.  This is NOT a coin flip, where one is no better than the other.  Between Joe Biden and Donald Trump, Joe Biden is the candidate who is best qualified, as a politician, as a HUMAN fucking BEING to be President of the United States.

Vote blue.  Vote deep blue.  Four years of the Republican party running our Federal Government has been Four years too many.  Register and Vote.  Stay involved in Politics for 2022 and 2024. Vote!

[dezzyparrish]

Rambo, John J. ! (all 5 of the Bloods)

... This is not a review.  This is more of a rant.  Content Warning.  This post is going to have so many bad things in it.  Racism, mysogyny, graphic violence, rape, forced drug use, post-traumatic stress, torture, war, and hate.  I can’t stress this enough and I’m serious, there is some seriously ugly shit that I’m discussing. Don’t read if you don’t want it in your brain.

I also might need to get better at my Content Warnings, when I’m nervous I try to be entertaining, and the above elements are not entertaining subjects.

I saw Rambo: Last Blood while Physically Distancing (I misspelled that Psychically Distancing and it’s kind of appropriate too!)

If you have not seen this movie, don’t.  It leaves a stain on your soul.  I’ve been worried about even writing about it, because in the writing, I’m giving it attention and as POTUS45 has shown us in SPADES for the past 4 years plus, Bad Attention is just as good as Good Attention.

Sigh.  I hate this. It’s just a matter of time that someone is gonna discover this blog and give me shit.

So, the Rambo flicks.  I watched the first four. Except for the first movie, First Blood, they’re all mediocre to bad movies, but fun.  First Blood is a good movie, it deserves all the credit it gets.

I watched the trailers for Last Blood and was really interested in this movie.  It looked like a book-end to the long (damn near 40 year) story of Captain John Rambo.  When we meet John, he’s a drifter, a Vietnam Veteran only a few years out of his war.  He’s hitch-hiking and visiting his old brothers-in-arms from the war, finding that, over the years many have died, others are in the same PTSD place he’s lived in.  We learn, by “drifter”, we mean “homeless”.  He wanders into the wrong small town, the sheriff and his deputies arrest him, abuse him, trigger his trauma as a Special Forces soldier and a Prisoner of War, and Rambo snaps and falls into his dark and scary mental spot where he is *back* in the Jungle fighting for his life.  The movie ends with the Sheriff’s office destroyed, the Sheriff machinegunned by an M-60 and bleeding out on the roof, and John’s old unit Commander, Colonel Trautman talking him back to reality and the present world.  John gives a monologue that gives powerful voice to the injustice, frustrations and rage of the soldiers who came home from Vietnam only to find that they couldn’t really come home.  This was in 1982, and as a society, the US was still wrestling with the divide over Vietnam, First Blood is fully in the “Vets are forgotten and hated by their country” camp.  My personal politics have evolved over the decades but even today as a long-haired pinko almost-Commie in California I still find it powerful.  This is John Rambo’s first story, he came home from war and found no peace, no end to his war.

Rambo: First Blood part II went from a drama with a little action to a full blown blockbuster style action flick.  Trautman recruits John from jail (since.. in the first film he destroys a town, and shoots the shit out of everything) for a special mission to return to Vietnam and win the war by saving forgotten POWs.  First Blood part II is two hours of explosions, stabbity, arrow grenades, strafing the ground from a helicopter, betrayal from the CIA, Russkies!  blood, blood and more blood.  First Blood part II really establishes the franchise as movies that aren’t very deep and John Rambo as an Action Superhero (with an Action figure toy line and a Saturday Morning Cartoon).  It’s “fun!” and ridiculous.   Rambo kills the Bad Guy (TM) by shooting him *WITH AN EXPLODING ARROW*, blowing Bad Guy to Hell in a shower of gobbity bits.  John Rambo’s second story, he starts in social isolation (prison), gets dragged back into War, then ends up walking into the distance searching for peace.  Remember that, it’s gonna come back over and over again.

Rambo III finds John in a Monastery somewhere in the world trying to find peace.  Trautman finds him (which is another recurring theme.. no matter where John goes in the world, War finds him and drags him back) and recruits him to fight the Russians in Afghanistan.  John refuses and Trautman has to start the secret mission on his own, and is captured by the Soviets, drawing Rambo into the conflict.  We’re gonna pause right here to bring up some history and some theming..

Rambo III tried to pay off on two real life promises.  The first is a theme in the franchise.  First Blood was about Vietnam, which the Soviets are indirectly referred to as a power using the war as a proxy for the US.  The Soviets are at this point are indirectly an antagonist.  In First Blood Part II, we see a Russian Spetznaz (spelling) “advising” the Vietnamese army on how best to use all those American prisoners.  The Soviets aren’t the main antagonist of Part II, but they make an appearance.  Rambo III pays this off by finally squaring Rambo off directly against the Red Army in a slug-fest.  The Hollywood version of the prize-fight war between the United States and the USSR for the SUPERPOWER CHAMPIONSHIP OF THE WOOOOOOORRRRRLD!  hypehypehype!  Rambo III also makes a second promise because in 1989 the Soviet Union was fighting a 10 year long Guerilla War against the Mujahidin in Afghanistan.  The US was supporting the Mujahidin fighters with support and modern weapons, tipping the balance against the Red Army.  Rambo III was supposed to be the cinematic Call to Arms for the US to enter Afghanistan and throw a knock-out blow against the hated Russians.  Except, in 1989, just before the movie was released, the Soviets *withdrew* from Afghanistan.  They ended the war and went home.  There was an historic profession of the last column of Soviet Tanks crossing back into the USSR, and in the last tank, the Red Army Commander was the last soldier to pull out in defeat.  Before Rambo III was released, but after it was made.  So that movie flopped.  It was a call-to-arms for a war that was over.

CONTENT WARNING: HARD CORE RACISM HERE

Ok, back from that aside. Rambo III starts to get more cringy, but we’re still in the ‘80s, almost the ‘90s and This was Reagan’s America as it became Poppy Bush’s New World Order.  So, John Rambo coming to Afghanistan and becoming a better Afghani than the people who live there is pretty par-for-the course.  I mean there’s a scene where John plays Horse Soccer with all the fighters and using a severed goat head as the ball.  Bloody, severed goat head. (Message: Brown People in other parts of the world are unsophisticated, and savage.)  John almost single handedly wins the sport for his team and is accepted as one of the fighters.. all the Mujahidin surround him with cheers and congratulate him in broken English.. because again, when you are in your home freaking country playing your own sport, you must try to appease the American Demigod by only talking to him in English, the language of Awesome!  There’s more wartime violence and torture with shooting, and stabbity and explosions.  

At one point John is wounded (OH NO) and has to crawl into a cave by himself.. bleeding and dying. He pours the powder from a bullet into his wound and lights it on fire to cauterize it. He’s all better after the scene transition.  Everything is good. Then goes back to killing Russians, rescuing Trautman and winning the proxy war against the hated Commie Red Russians.  This is John Rambo’s third story, he starts in social isolation, is dragged back into war, and ends up walking into the distance looking for peace.

John Rambo, Rambo IV is more of the same.  it’s the first Rambo movie I didn’t see in theatres but, I did cue it up the first time I saw it pop on to the streaming networks.  It starts the same way that al the previous installments do.  John Rambo living a solitary life, trying to come to grips with his life.  This time he’s back in Southeast Asia when some Christian Missionaries contact him to serve as a guide into Myanmar (which was in the midst of a Civil War).  John warns them off and refuses the offer.  The Missionaries go anyway and vanish into the jungle, taken prisoner by the Army (strongly implied if not outright mentioned, I honestly can no longer recall, of the Real World Authoritarian Totalitarian Government that siezed power at that time).  Rambo is once again pulled into a war to save the White Christian Missionaries from the Evil Heathen People. 

CONTENT WARNING - RACISM, MYSOGENY, RAPE and GRAPHIC VIOLENCE.

During the movie, somewhere in Act 2, we see the Missionary Woman prisoner of the Army, locked in a little bamboo cell just like the ones in the Vietnamese POW camp in First Blood Part II.  In comes the guard to get himself some rapin’ done.  Leering and laughing, the woman terrified.. and just as the music gets to it’s most menacing, guard gasps in surprise and Rambo’s beefy hand grabs his throat from the darkness.  Then, over the next 20 seconds, John Rambo digs his fingers into the guy’s throat, blood gushing and going everywhere, then Rambo tears his god damn throat out.  With his bare hand.  Rambo has murdered his way through two and a half movies by this point we’ve watched countless faceless goons, soldiers and thugs shot, stabbed, blown up, gunned down.  In fact the only movie where John Rambo doesn’t commit mass murder is First Blood.  One guy dies, by accident, by his own foolishness and John doesn’t kill him, dude falls out of his helicopter.  There’s an argument that the sheriff dies of his wounds, but if he did it was off-screen after the credits and we see him wheeled out by paramedics. But this poor bastard.. rapey guard, we get to linger on his very bloody, excruciating death for 20 fucking seconds.  I mean at least the previous 400 guys died fast.  During the Escape of Act 3, Rambo commandeers a mounted heavy machine gun in a truck and turns it on the pursuing soldiers.  This is a huge gun, an old Soviet anti-aircraft weapon designed to shoot down Attack Helicopters and the first thing Rambo does is turn it on the poor guy in the drivers seat of the truck  like a foot and a half away from the muzzle and vaporize him (at least he went fast, if gruesomely), then turns the gun on the soldiers, who attack in waves and we get a montage of dudes getting blown to little bitty pieces by a Heavy Machine gun.  Missionaries saved, woman’s virtue preserved, lesson learned (don’t spread the white man’s faith to godless heathens in a war zone).  and John Rambo walks into the distance, looking for peace.

CONTENT WARNING - EVERYTHING

Rambo V: Last Blood had some promise.  I saw the trailers and they showed John back in the US, on a farm, with a family.  I was looking forward to the book-end of John Rambo’s story.  One last fight for an old soldier.  John would likely die in the end, he’s mortal man after all, and looking back through the movie history, he had to be seventy or more by the time this movie opens.

HOOO BOY WAS I WRONG

Look, I’ve spent a LOT of words giving context in detail of the four previous movies, and I’ve been critical of all of them.  But even the most problematic of the Rambo Movies, there was a break in the cringe.  Maybe they’re a product of the time in which they were made, maybe it was that the violence just became cartoon-silly after a while.  The Rambo movies were.. fun.  Stupid, hyperviolent, problematic fun, but there’s a whole pop-culture subgenre of making silly references to Rambo.  From Hot Shots to Tropic Thunder, a thousand short comedy skits.  This movie though.

I can’t go into detail like I did earlier.  It’s that bad.  But John Rambo has finally found a home in the Southwest of America.  His Country has taken him back in.  He is a father-figure to a daughter who is on the verge of going to college.  He breaks in horses like a cowboy.   He has a tunnel complex dug beneath the whole of the property where he has every personal weapon known to mankind and a forge where he blacksmiths knives and a damascus steel letter opener as a “go to college present for said young adult adopted daughter.

Girl learns of her birth father in Mexico, just across the border.  Daddy Rambo warns her not to go “You don’t know the DARKNESS in men’s hearts, I do”.  Girl ignroes Dad (of course) and goes in search of birth Dad.  Mexico in this movie is a Brietbart/ Alt-right Nightmare of unwashed hordes on our doorstep. Tragedy strikes, birth father is a slimeball, girl is kidnapped, cartels are evil, huaman trafficking, graphic violence, forced drug use, and rape.  Rambo goes in to save girl and murders his way through dozens of thugs, using anything at hand.  He finds girl, takes her home and she dies on the way back, from an overdose of drugs and all the torment.

John Rambo returns to Mexico and takes his vengeance.  It’s like an ‘80s slasher flick except the camp counselors aren’t innocent teenagers but harden cartel gang members and we’re expected to root for the Killer.  This draws the rest of the Cartel Soldiers back to John at his farm as act 3 opens.  Entering the United States through a Tunnel, kitting up like a Fortnite Group and heading out.

There is 10 solid minutes of Carnage filmed with the most skill and care that the film-makers, including Sylvester Stallone who has now a 44 year career of movie making under his belt.

John has a closing voice over monologue after killing the Last Bad Guy (TM). The last scene is John Rambo rocking on his front porch musing about how he will *ALWAYS* defend his country against all its enemies.  He Lives.  There’s an opening for a Sequel.

I had to shower.  its been continuing to bounce around in my head, which is why I’m writing it down here.  Rambo: Last Blood, in ANY OTHER UNIVERSE would be nothing more than an underground film passed around White Power rallies, “here’s your copy of the Turner Diaries, Hitlers speeches, and watch this bruthr”.  It seems like I might have went on for a long time when I started out that I couldn’t add details, I didn’t.  This was without details.

So, avoid this movie.  Just. Save yourself the stain in your brain and not watch this movie.

[dezzyparrish]

Wherein I hide my cowardly self from the meanies on FB

I have traveled far enough into the American Political Left that I am losing what little empathy or understanding I once had for my Conservative, Republican family and friends.

I used to believe that even if someone disagreed with me politically, that we still had the same desires in our hearts.  To make the world we’re in better for the children we’d leave it too.  That despite differences in tax policy, foreign policy, or... aaaahh fuck it.  I’ve said it all before.  Here even.

I’ve even lamented that I can’t write or speak to the people who should be hearing this anymore.  They don’t care.  THE REPUBLICAN VOTER DOESN’T CARE.  Not about anything but winning.

I can’t speak for every Republican, or “Conservative” out there.  Gina and Tom from the Twin Cities.. I can’t speak to whether or not they care.

But (aaaaaah fuck.. I just caught myself rolling off a list of names of all the people I know who vote Republican.. like it’s a Nixonian enemies list)

I can’t stand feeling like this.  It plays out in my head over and over.  “I’ll say this, then they’ll come back with that.. then I’ll realize that my loved ones are TERRIBLE PEOPLE BECAUSE OF TRUMP.. and I”ll be sad, and whine on Tumblr”

and here we are....

Not saying anything at home, because we’re all burned out on politics.  Not saying anything on the phone because it’ll cause a fight. Not saying anything on Facebook because I’ll start a flamewar with my 80 year old step-Grandmother if she has had too many glasses of wine.

Throwing myself back into projects and work only works for so long.

fuck.

P.S.  Ought to define a shorthand I’m using these days.  When I use the name “Trump” I’m not referring to the Orange Emminance as the sole catalyst of our woeful times.  He’s just the spokesperson, the facade of a greater, broader cancer.  Not going full “faceless star-chamber illuminatus” conspiracy theory.  But “Trump” represents the wing of the Right that has taken control of the Republican Party and right-wing political debate.  It’s the Rupert Murdoch - Steve Bannon - (late) Roger Ayles (good riddance) - Steven Miller - Alt Right - New American Century - Falwell - Graham cabal that takes marching orders from the Federalist Society.  OH GOD IT SOUNDS LIKE A CONSPIRACY THEORY.  I’m losing my damn mind. Might as well start wearing a tinfoil liner under my hat and saving my toenail clippings in jars.  I feel like a damn fool now.

[dezzyparrish]

Spoilin' for a fight

There are days.. really too many days and too often that I just want to insult my Conservative friends and family to their face. Or their Facebook y'know because Social Media is how we relate to one another nowadays. I dont want to convince anyone of anything, I just want to vent all my pent-up rage, shame and frustration.

God Damn! Kids in Concentration Camps, desperate people drowning in the river, dying in the desert, dying in pur care. And friends and family click their tongues shake their heads and just don't care. And my respect for them vanishes in a puff of smoke. I want to slap them. Punch them. Scream in their face that they've betrayed every value they taught me. I have been so ashamed of being an American, being Christian for so fucking long now. I want that Facebook Fight. But I know how it ends. With nothing changed. Just hardened hearts and derision and exhaustion. Another two or three relationships wrecked. More friends I cont speak to, more family I will avoid. So I come here, where I can vent, and where the people I want to vent at cant find. And so, they cant respond, and I can maintain the paper thin fantasy that my Conservative friends and Conservative family remain the people I think I know. It's a release without catharsis. And sometimes, briefly, I catch a glimpse of their frustration with me too. That sudden tension in their voice. They think I've betrayed them just as much as they betrayed me. I despise where the past forty years have taken us.

[dezzyparrish]

Done with the GOP

I originally tried coming up with a clever Fathers Day spin on the title. But y'know, all things considered, I had a pretty nice Fathers Day yesterday. I spent the evening with my fam, gave the co-parenting dad a nice bottle of Four Roses Burbon for the occasion and had some pretty yummy corned beef for dinner so, pretty good Fathers Day 2019.

My Dad, on the other hand, pretty much ground out the last ember of hope that I'll vote anything but Progressive for the remainder of my life. There was a time, and not long ago, that our political differences were a source of exchange. Dad was an anchor to another POV. Someone whose opinion I could take seriously about the deeper roots in Conservative Politics. He was why I could stomach Facebook for so long.

But the brief exchange we had yesterday quashed that. He's (unsurprisingly) a supporter of Trump. Not the President, though supporting the President and supporting Donald Trump are pretty much the same thing now. And not the Republican Party, though the same reasoning applies. No arguement matters because... well... you know the reasons. We've heard them daily for 39 years.. 50 if you go back to Nixon. No illustration of failing Trade Wars, Racism, Dictorial aspirations... none of it has even the least affect. The President is a Republican. Republicans are Virtuous. Democrats lie, and that's the way it goes. My Dad is still wrestling with the counterculture.

Not that I expected to persuade my dad. It is a rare moment indeed that a child is ever able to change their parents mind about much, and certainly never about something consequential. I just hoped for a glimmer of hope that there was some Christian empathy left in the GOP. It's not that My Dad was or is the only place I've looked... but he's the last.

You keep some doors tightly shut because it's less painful than looking behind them. So long as what's beyond is a mystery I can fantasize that what might be there is what I hope is there. That my Conservative family and friends share something, anything in common with me. That their conception of an America which is Great resembles mine. But it ain't. So I cant look any more. And I realize that there is no longer any realistic expectation that any conservative seeker of office will ever receive my vote.

[dezzyparrish]

On childhood influences and privacy.

I attend a bunch of game conventions. Two or three every year. And they're super-fun. I hang out on panels, try my best to shake hands with and/or speak with the special guests, when possible, ask them to sign a book that they've written.

The contact means a bunch to me. After all, I spend a pretty hefty portion of my day immersed in their work. I follow many of these folk on Social Media of all sorts. It leads to a trap of perception that I must remain conscious of.

For as much as I am a fan of their work, and as much as I can count a handful of these artists as friendly acquaintances, I am not their friend, in the sense that there exists a relationship beyond the artist and the audience. There is a subtle warp to the lens. For me, their names, faces, and work is a daily companion. In some cases, like the folks I've interacted with at GaryCon, these are people who have been a part of my life for 40 years almost. I'll be 50 in September. The old TSR, Game Designers Workshop, Chaosium, and Hero Games staff have been in my life for 3/4 of my life.

Sometimes I need to remind myself that the same isnt true in reverse. Having the privilege of a couple of hours sharing their time isnt a basis of familiarity. Recognizing a face in a restaraunt, doesnt mean that they recognize, expect, or are familiar with me.

There are a handful of writers designers and artists that I have developed friendships with. We know one another beyond the work they've published. But those relationships, like any real friendship took time to develop. And, (I cant stress this enough), that friendship was mutual.

Just a thought, because my Social Media feeds this morning have a few stories where creators are defining boundaries after a weekend of those boundaries being crossed. They're right to have boundaries. They deserve to have those boundaries observed and respected. They get to set the terms of their interpersonal interactions, not me, not you. No matter how much their work has meant to me or you, no matter how much their stories spoke to us or pulled us from the dark. That does not make the creator our friend, we don't get to hang out with them, or oblige them to share any more of themselves than they wish to.

[dezzyparrish]

Painted up a classic D&D Troll from the Nolzur's Marvelous Miniatures line

[dezzyparrish]

Rocket grabbed me in the feelz

There’s a load of spoilers for Endgame and Guardians of the Galaxy 2.  The former a leeeetle bit more sensitive than the latter.  So, if’n you don’t want spoiled, close this post.  Then go watch both films, they’re worth your time.

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..

...

ya good?

we good?

great!

...

..

.

At the end of Guardians of the Galaxy 2, we see Yondu’s Funeral.  It’s the culmination of a lot of heavy-duty growth for all the characters involved.  In short, the Guardians become the family each of these characters need, and have been searching for.  In this post, we’re gonna focus on Rocket.

Rocket looks out at Yondu’s funeral pyre(?) as the Ravagers honor him with the colors of Ogord. Then in a small voice says to no one in particular..

“He didn’t chase them away”

Quill - “No”

“Even though he yelled at them, and was always mean.. And he stole batteries he didn’t need”

Quill - “Well, of course not”

Rocket was talking about himself, amazed that there was forgiveness, even though he pushed everyone away so hard. That little Raccoon realizes that he’s found a home and a family.

Which, of course gets snapped away in Infinity War.  Rocket loses as much as anyone when Thanos snaps his fingers.  Tragically, he’s fully aware of what he lost. 

So when Endgame comes around, and Rocket is paired with Thor and they travel to Asgard where Thor loses his emotional grip (and I can’t blame him, the recent Marvel Films have been pretty rough on Thor), Rocket delivers a short monologue.  He slaps Thor to get his attention then appeals to the demigod.

“You think you’re the only one that lost people? What do you think we’re doin’ here?  I lost the only family I ever had.  Quill, Groot, Drax, the chick with the antenna- all gone! I get that you miss your mom, but she’s gone - *really* gone. And there are plenty of people who are only *kinda* gone. And you can help them.”

There is still so much to unpack from this movie.  This was the connection I ran into last night.  Twenty-three movies over 10 years... and it’s not just easter eggs, but connections and crossovers that tie the whole thing together.  Endgame was more than I’d hoped it would be, and I set my expectations *high* for this movie.

But in this moment, damn that raccoon got to me.  I’m happy he got his family back.

[dezzyparrish]

Nothing Gonna Change My World

I've all but given up on my Republican friends and family. Indeed, everyone who even leans right. Point is, I am so goddamned tired of being let down by the racism, phobia, and hate. Rather than acknowledging the overwhelming mountain of facts pointing to foreign interference, or that the world's climate has changed, or that Donald Trump is the exact same playboy-conman-grifter he's been for 50 years, my Republican friends just insist that this country is being returned to "greatness". Then they shake their heads at how disappointed they are. "How can you be against guns?" they ask "how can you be against Christians?"

And... I'm just done. So tired of the fight, the dogpile. Saddened that some of the people I loved seem so eager. Fucking EAGER to spend the relationship currency we've generated over a lifetime on bullying me for the empathy they planted in my heart in the first place.

God Damn that! On Easter Week! I cant live up to the example I was raised to emulate. Fuck 'em. Worst part is that right now. I cant shake the dread that Trump's gonna win Re-Election. That Pence is gonna get a follow up term. That this is some funhouse mirror reflection of the 80s.

My cowardice is that I'm ranting here, instead of Facebook where the people who should see this will. Because I cant fight with them any more. I cant. Not today.

[dezzyparrish]

Less than 3 hours to go and $13000 to raise to meet the Stretch Goal. Go on! Change your D&D game!

Arcana of the Ancients, a 5E science-fantasy sourcebook, via @Kickstarter https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/montecookgames/arcana-of-the-ancients-a-5e-science-fantasy-source

[dezzyparrish]

Homeland Insecurity

Upon first hearing if the abrupt resignation of DHS Secretary Nielsen I admit to a bit of schdenfreude. I mean, she was a horrible DHS Secretary for well-documented reasons! I cheered a bit internally.

Then I heard the reports that she resigned under pressure from the President over being "not tough enough" over immigration. At which point I poured myself another double-shot of Tequila, and crawled back into my hole of despair.

[dezzyparrish]

GaryCon XI and my “calling”

I’ve heard the term “missing my calling” in relation to my job and gaming a BUNCH over the last year.  That term has led, especially since the end of October, to me doing a Hard Press on making my hobby my career, and breaking into “the industry”.  Becoming one of the stars of Twitch, or You Tube, work the Convention Circuit and not only make a living, but make a very comfortable living sharing my imagination and experience with TableTop Roleplaying Games.  I felt, and very strongly, that the work I do for a paycheck, spending the old 9-5 working on my assigned projects at work was kind of a “placeholder” while I pursued gaming as a career.

I had decided that I wasn’t really any good at code testing, and my true vocation lay in my creative gifts. “Missing my calling” spoke to me that if I wasn’t making a living at storytelling and adventure writing, I was failing at life.  I was doing adult wrong. With that in my head I came to my Third GaryCon and I was intent on using the extensive network I have built over recent years to climb one step closer to the brass ring.  Friday Night I went to a seminar, I asked good questions, took notes, the hosts on the Panel were so kind as to keep going for an extra hour.. the panel closed at 11pm. Then someone mentioned going to the Hotel Bar for some drinks, and I asked to come with.

And the reaction I saw from the person was one of suspicion and worry.  The answer was “oooohh.. yeah.. ummm.. is there something you wanted to talk about?”  and I realized I was intruding.  I was “that guy”, one of those pushy and toxic fans hoping to use the celebrities in our community to pull myself up.  Maybe some of my desperation came through.  After all, with “missing my calling” echoing in my head, I was definitely hearing my life-clock counting down.

“You know Keith”, the clock told me, “even if you started publishing, streaming your work TOMORROW, how much of a career could you really have?  20 years, 30?  Look at that guy you’re talking to.  He’s maybe in his early 30s, if that.  He’s handsome, he’s in Hollywood, he’s already been a Script Writer, he’s a Line Developer for a legacy product for Wizards.. He’s got his whole life ahead of him and you.. well, I hate to tell you Keith, but your life is pretty much over.”

And the clock doubled down, “But don’t quit.. oh no!  Even if your career will be hopelessly short, every day you waste just being a *hobbyist* is just one more day that will join all those years since 1980 that you’ve been trying to be a game designer.  If you quit now, not only will you NEVER be a professional, your entire adult life will be a big.. glaring.. ZERO and everyone will know it.”

And I had a drink or two, and an awkward conversation and went back to my room feeling like a loser.  I mean.. a LOOOOO-HOOOOO-ZEEERRR.  I was considering not coming back to this convention next year, because I don’t belong here.. GaryCon is for successful, happy folks.

But somewhere in the middle of the night, something inside me, a calmer, way more rational voice, also in my head, talked me down.  It pointed out something simple that I had missed.  I haven’t missed my calling, not by a long shot.  I’m a community leader and have been for years.  I’ve brought fun, joy and imagination to more people than I can count, just by being with them.  People look for me at conventions, they want to play in the games that I run at game stores and the campaigns I run at home.  I held an impromptu 4 hour DM seminar for one player on Thursday.  At BigBadCon in 2017 I ended up giving an on-the-spot workshop about Middle Earth answering lore questions from players in my game, inspired by the trip to Middle Earth I took them on.  I have a Calling, that voice told me, beyond a shadow of a doubt, I am NOT missing it.  I’m in the middle of it, at that wonderful time when I am good, even great at passing my imagination on to others.  Many of the palyers who join my game have played in my games in prior years.. they still remember the experience they had and the story they played through.  I helped forge awesome memories among strangers and friends alike that last for 10 and 20 years.

There is a twisted standard of success in our society, and by society I refer to a much wider society than gaming.  And that standard is money.  “the amount of money one makes is the measure of success in your life”  And that is a very cynical and hollow way of looking at your life.  That attitude of overvaluing money devalues the everything else in your life.

My point is (and we took the long way to get here) I haven’t “missed my calling”.  My skill and imagination are honed to a razor sharpness.  And, in case you’re wondering.. my 13 year career in software testing is strong as well.  I’m good at my job and I’m worth the money they’re paying me.  I don’t have to make money to be successful in anything I do.  I have three brilliant and wonderful children.  I have dozens and dozens of loyal and loving friends.  I have a lifetime of stories that build on each other.  I still need work and help in dealing with this stage in my life in this time and place in history.  But so far as the old work life balance goes, I’m regaining my perspective.

Oh, and GaryCon XII?  I’ll be here in March 2020.  Though I’ll pack a lot lighter.

[dezzyparrish]

The TTRPG community has been active with the revelation that another prolific author and designer has been a serial abuser for a decade (and more). It has been rough to read, since IT HAPPENED. The individual has been mentally, emotionally, and sexually abusing his partner for a dozen years. He is now added to a growing list of men, in positions of authority, that have preyed on our friends, our community since the beginning.

It's hard for me to take this medicine, because some of these men are among the people who shaped my teenage years. I idolized many of those names. I wanted to BE those people "when I grew up". And learning that, did they not only have feet of clay, but many of these men turned out to be creeps.

The mantra I've adopted, as I've continued to pursue this ambition of making my calling my vocation, has become "be the change you want to see". Be a better friend, a better ally, a better gamer. Be a better person than the standard that was set by my elders and those who have entered the industry before me.

Though I look back on my own behaviour and I see where I've been a selfish, petty, creepy jerk. And it's very difficult for me to separate the acts of a Predator and an Abuser from the very Human Failings that we all get to own up to when we reflect on our lives. As the years of out lives stretch longer, the incidents of ugly behavior pile up.

I didn't call out names here. Though, I believe those names deserve to be called out, and should be. But today I'm not the person to do so. If you're reading this, a brief search on social media will reveal the predators, and in the near future, that list of names will grow. So long as we support the people who come forward and BELIEVE THEM, others will share their stories.

Believe them even if their abuser is a person you've admired. Even if they were good to you at a convention. Even, or perhaps especially, if you like them.

Believe Them.

[dezzyparrish]

An aside; modern days and yesterday's nightmares

In the late 80s I spent all my Saturdays in the Student Center of SIU-Carbondale playing tabletop role playing games till midnight, then hanging out with my Tribe until 2 or 3 AM. Then I'd drag my happy, exhausted butt home to my folks house to unwind, make a quick snack, then say Good Morning to my stepdad (who was heading out to Sunday Morning goose, duck, or deer hunting) before crashing out in bed till the noonday sun woke me up again. Aaahh youth.

One such Saturday, I flipped on the TV while I snacked, and saw a shot of the White House with Emergency Vehicles out front. The Secretary of Defense had suffered a heart attack while giving the President an Emergency Briefing over a military crisis with the Soviets in the Persian Gulf. I watched in growing horror during the pre-dawn hours as the situation turned from bad, to worse, to a nightmare. I became convinced that Nuclear War was happening right then. It was what my generation was raised to fear. Incoming ICBMs.. mushroom clouds, Nuclear Winter... THE END. I was terrified, and was half way up the stairs in a panic to warn my folks when I saw that I was watching Countdown to Looking Glass. A movie.

In the many years since, that anecdote became a story that showed how silly and gullible I was, and a glimpse into that slice of History. There was juuuust enough plausibility that a Crisis could escalate to Conflict and from there trigger Armageddon that for a moment even a mediocre TV movie aired as the Late, Late, Late Show was believable. For me, that was the Cold War in the 80s.

And that's what it looks like we as a world are going back to. A Nclear Arms Race, global tensions, and playing chicken with nuclear armed governments using thermonuclear weapons. It makes my soul go cold that I have to consider again that the world could be 30 minutes (or less) away from the end of Civilization. Again. I hate the thought that this was allowed to happen over the deification of a Reagan Presidency that never was. I feel like I've taken crazy pills. Because this President knows less about Nuclear War than Chuck Norris. And in his hubris and ignorance Donald FUCKING Trump is going to bring back the unthinkable.