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Brainstorming for a  new OSR game.  Anyone up for some playtesting?

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The LARP is gunna be LIT!

Come at me, ya filthy syrup sucking canuck.  I’ve got mah rake ready, locked and loaded!

Seriously, thought, I have no idea who Baby Stewie was targeting with his exclusionary rhetoric.  I’m the worst character in the OSR community, and I game down at the local nerd hatchery with all sorts of people.  Democrats, foreigners, Chinamen, pinkos, chinkos, fags, traps, commies, ragheads, and once I’m pretty sure I even gamed with a Mick!  So tolerant.

You square conformists don’t have anything to worry about in your dull, white, middle-class, gated communities.  Your privilege keeps you safe, so long as you stick to the long and ever changing list of rules and requirements.  So boring.  The only ones who have to check their tongues at the table are we underground Merry Pranksters pasting “It’s Okay to Be White” stickers all over the campus steam tunnels during our LARP runs.

Boy do those get the local college RPG club’s knickers in a twist when they find them.

But bear in mind that the current crop of kids knows all the dog whistles.  They know all the silent shivs and sly winks.  You’d shit your lacy undergarments if you knew how many times fresh faced teens snapped their focus on me, wide eyed with shock, because one of the adults dropped a sly, winking reference to That Which Must Not Be Discussed, and did it in polite company.  You’d panic if you understood that the kids are alt-right, and having grown up under the shadow of your forced conformity and mobs of harridan teachers and administrators, they’ve become adept at hiding in plain sight.

Just like old Uncle E. Reagan, who helps groom them along the dank paths of the seedy underbelly of the hobby.

You think you’ll outlast we happy few, we band of alt-right brothers.  And you might.  But we’ve got youthful rebellion on our side.  The tighter you clench your fist, the more young minds slip through your grasp.  You’re old.  And you’re boring.

And the kids are alt-right.

You’re just too dumb to notice it.

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The Rot Accelerates

Fat goth chicks everywhere are up in flabby arms about the latest nontroversy to rock the RPG world to its very core.  Sharp eyed reader and silver voiced ex-Geek Gab host Brian Kneemire brings us the two scoops:

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Sorry for the edit – gotta dodge them Meme Bobbies, you know?

How much stress is that gal’s corset under?  Don’t stand too close, if it lets go it’ll bring down the whole building.

UntitledsThe mob circles the drain ever faster in its hunt for targets of opportunity, and all the apologies in the world won’t save you.  Apologizing is just throwing more chum in the water when the sharks are lashing out in every direction.  This is habbening in the OG camp of the aint’s – the early-nineties White Wolfers were proto Ess Jay Dubs who sneered their way right past 2nd Edition AD&D (too much math, you see) and into the jiggly, tatted arms of the OG storygame “Vampire Colon The Masquerade” where they could focus on story first and game whatever, man.  Not even the storygamers are safe from the savagery of storygamers whipped up into a frenzy.

It’s not that big of a deal, really, because Vampire sucks and deserved to die and be buried with the consecrated host in its mouth wa-hay back in 1992, but it’s instructive as another sounding of the death knell of the entry-ridden hobby.  It’s a good sign – it means the predictions of eating their own continue to prove true.  And it’s good it happened in the White Wolf community.

If this had blown up in a real part of the RPG hobby instead of the gross patchouli oil and black leather corner, somebody that matters might have gotten hurt.

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Good Luck Wi’ Dat!

It’s all over, boys. Close up shop and find a new hobby.

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Three hours later, the peanut butter went on his crotch.

“The hashamatag HomOSR is for everyone. Not so fast, normal person! I’ve got virtue signaling to do so that I can be the last one to get the full diversity (aka chasing down the last white guy) treatment. Please don’t ostracize me, I’m one of the good ones!”

You ain’t the boss of me, Baby Stewie, and I ain’t going nowhere.  Get ready for my first professionally published adventure that starts with a 30×30 room with a pit in the center, then twists around a few familiar corridors all done in a nice pale traditional blue.

You know blue, Stewie, it’s the traditional color for boys.  Oh, wait, you probably don’t.  You should make a rainbow version of that little logo to signal harder what a good little lickspittle you are to the cultural tyrants.  That’ll show ’em.

Frickin’ nerds, man.  Why’d we ever let them in this hobby in the first place?

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OK

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More later.  The drain in the men’s bathroom at the porno theater is clogged with pubes again.  Gotta go snake it out.  If you don’t know what fresh hell of stupidity this is, brace for incoming.  I’ll explain more fully in a few hours.

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Tard Fight! Tard Fight!

From alert members of the seedy underbelly of the internet, the inimicable degenerate and inveterate huckster of the best stripe, Venger Satanis, and Kaz the Spaz, Mister “Ted Bundy” Pundy his own self, comes word of the latest tale of two titties:

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ACK-chyullee.  There are three great gobbing tits in this flaccid fracas.  Foam mouthed and chlamydia ridden leftist Zak attacked milk-toast and rather agreeable leftist James “Baggy” Raggi for palling around with weird cult-leader and leftist-approved alt-right fifth columnist Jumping Jordan H. Christ.  It’s a perfect storm of the left eating their own crabs in a trainwreck of a bucket!

Woman!  Whar’s mah popped corn!?

The shamefullest part about the story is that there’s not a lot to see here.

  1. Like a good little servant of the forces of suck, Raggi folded like a UFC fighter following the pre-written fight script.  So brave.
  2. Zak claims another notch on his disease caked bedpost, but this one on the “internet mob instigated” fighty side of things rather than the “banged a HB 3 (on a good day bumped up to a 4 in the right lighting with lots of makeup and the combined efforts of multiple teams of Industrial Light and Magic) whore” side of things.
  3. L. Ron Jordan, the Pied Piper of sad sack incels desperate to find meaning (but not desperate enough to enter a church because they’d be expected to doff thier fedora) dances through the raindrops oblivious and starry-eyed as ever.

Even the left-wing controversies are boring these days.  But take heart that the real winner in this mess…is you!  You aren’t any of those Three Muskestards, and any day you can wake up and say that to yourself in the communal YMCA mirror is a good day.  You also get to add another log onto the burning fire that shines like a beacon, always there to remind you that Derby-Derbs was right: “anything not explicitly right-wing will be skinned and worn by Buffa-left Bill.”  Raggi thought he could drift along in neutral gear, but the Coalition of the Aggrieved cannot long run without it’s engine fueled by the souls and self-respect of decent human beings.  So as soon as the more obvious square-jawed, uncucked, Not-Today-Satan types like us had been run off the reservation, they turned their guns on each other.  To his shock and d’aww!, Raggi’s little stunt there attracted the lidless, flaming brown-eye of Sauron on The Puget Sound* and like all proud nails climbing to close to the sun, he had to be fed into the wood-chipper of the internet rage machine.

It would be kind of funny…if it wasn’t so hilarious.

Remember, moderates of the RPG world, they are coming for you.  “I just want to play some games,” means nothing.  The Goddess of the Narrative demands tribute, and you will be made to renounce goodness and decency and truth, justice, and the American way, or you will forced out into the darkness with the rest of us deploraBOSSES, and if you’ve fired volleys our way in an effort to curry favor with the Cult of the Sulk to save your own skin – oh, hey there, Ethan Van Scribbler, you’re right on time! – don’t expect to find succor at the teat of the grand tradition of we true heirs of His High Lord Majesty, the sainted E. Chad Gygax.

We’ve got a civilization to save, and we can’t do it with backstabbers lurking in our rear echelons.

Moderation in defense of old school play is no virtue.  His hurrahs for the poz haven’t kept Kas “I Smoke A Pipe, That’s The Same Thing As Having A Personality, Right?” Urbanski clear of their limp wristed attacks, nor bought him even the slenderest shred of good will, has it?  Take notes, people!

Don’t give money to people that hate you.

And stop buying Raggi’s rags – he doesn’t deserve you kangz.

 

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The Nerdist Hates Nerds

Because nerds learned early on how to move forward in the face of obvious shaming tactics.  You really think shame – the only real weapon the Forces of the Poz have in their arsenal – will work on guys that rolled dice in the cafeteria, hand drew Willingham’s minotaur on their math folder, and wore Batman t-shirts before Michael Keaton first killed the Joker?  Pshaw, I say.

You know why old E. Reagan Wright never asks you lunkheads for money? Because he isn’t selling anything but a better life through better gaming.

(Shut up, you.)

What I mean to say is, aside from all the times he tries to sell you his hastily written and ill-proof read books, Old E. Reagan isn’t trying to part you from your hard-earned money.  Guys like Mark Waid and whoever is suing him today expect you to pay the price for their mistakes.  Whoever wins this case, they are all losers, as are those who willingly give their money to help creative dopes fight these sorts of legal battles.  Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy seeing Waid hoisted on his own petard and was shown the combined wrath of a thousand angry nerds.  It’s about time the hoity-toity city slickers who demand we smile when they force-feed us shit sandwiches face the music of the day to day antipathy their weak worldview engenders among the people of light.

But save your money, people.  On both sides.

It’s all one big scam.  Save your money.

Just buy stuff you like.

Like my stuff.

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New WotC Setting Speculation

Wiz-tards of the Coast announced a new setting book will be released in 2019, a book that they have not created that is for a D&D setting.  Whatever that means.

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Link not included because I can’t bear the shame of admitting where I read this.  Don’t judge me, I take the pain so you don’t have to.

That’s it.  The rest of the clickbait article is the same kind of speculation that churns your stomach when the morbidly obese mush-mouths at the shop engage the imaginations that are as loose as their bowel movements.  You know, speculation like I’m about to engage in…

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My money gets plonked down on Spelljammer, because they really need a setting tailor made for the new and improved fans (note that the word “players” doesn’t appear here) of the new and improved D&D experience (note that the word “game” doesn’t appear here.)  Specifically, Spelljammer has an entire race of potential PCs perfect for feminists.

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Think about it.  Phlogiston ships – like everything about the feminist worldview – are powered by nothing more than your wishes and dreams.  It’s a perfect metaphor.  You can ignore reality, close your eyes, and just really feel like you should live in a different world, and voila!

It’s also a setting rife with opportunities for female pirate cosplay, which should really be the primary focus of any pen and pencil math-heavy competitive endeavor.

It’s also a setting that doesn’t have a whole lot of deep lore, so you can pick up enough jargon to pass yourself off as a genuine geek-girl without having to read a lot of musty old books or learn a bunch of icky history or have any stories of your own about how you interacted with the setting.  That’s all for smelly nerds, and D&D doesn’t have room in the community for people like that.

Bank on it, people.

Spelljammer.

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