Friday , September 18 , 2009

    Posted by:

    Sarah

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Man, Edison is such a jackass. He was just mad because all the ladies wanted Tesla.

Anyway, I'm not terribly unhappy with how things turned out with today's comic. That's unusual, I know, but that's how it is today. So... hurrah.

Also, I borrowed Brighton's outfit directly from my own closet. Nice!

~sjh

    Posted by:

    James

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See, this is what happens when a tabletop gamer tries to explain their hobby to an outside party. Dreadful misunderstanding followed by frantic justification that is cut off (as you shall see on Monday) with a puzzled dismissal on the part of the explainee.

I mean, what if I tried to tell you about the time I played a cranky mutant owl newspaperman-cum-fighter pilot in the company of a similarly mutant cheetah and housecat, who were a ninja and a mechanic, respectively? And who all rode around on board an airship in a pulp serial version of the 1930s where humans and mutant animals were teetering on the edge of something approximating World War II? Furthermore, what if I were to tell you about our most notorious foe in that game, whom I still think of as That Fucking Pirate Weasel In Crossed Bandoliers What Kept Kicking Our Asses? If I were to tell you all this, would you instantly think, "Holy shit, fucking awesome!" (as I do), or would you start inching away from me, coiling every muscle in your body to make a mad dash for the nearest exit at the first available opportunity?

There's sort of a limited market for this kind of thing, I'm trying to say, and it's mostly because the hobby is rather difficult to explain to people. Especially, for instance, prospective lady acquaintances. Because what it all boils down to is a highly specialized sit-down version of cops and robbers, except there's rules so things don't devolve into "I shot you! No, you didn't!"-type situations, which would, in turn, disintegrate into the grownup equivalent of a playground scuffle (probably involving elbow drops and dick punching...so not that much different from actual playground scuffles, really).

"Scuffle" is a fun word. Like "spigot". But I digress.

My point is, at long last, that I understand Brighton's confusion and horror. And it's just fine for some folk to feel that way, you know? They can go about their humdrum lives and leave all the work of being awesome to those of us with collections of numbered plastic polyhedrons.

I'm sure they can, y'know, go have sex. Or whatever. I don't know what those people do for fun.

-James