Jedi School

Someone asked me what I know about Jedi school.

I replied that all ll I know is when I went to Jedi school, the girls all ignored me and were into Kylo Ren, because he’s got that whole “bad boy” thing going for him. You never saw me hacking up the lunchroom with a lightsaber, but apparently playing by the rules and following the light side just doesn’t make you boyfriend material!

Sorry. I’m still bitter.


The Lighter Side

I have this awesome dragon t-shirt that I wear all the time, and which I’ve owned for, like, six years, and I only just realized the other night that it glows in the dark. The process by which I discovered this was a matter of me stumbling through the bedroom with the lights out so as to not wake Colleen, seeing the ethereal shape of a dragon staring back at me from the darkened mirror, and going “Aaaaaaaagggggghhhh!”

Alternatively, I guess it’s possible that it actually didn’t glow in the dark before and the depleted-uranium laundry detergent I’ve been using is to blame.

Alternatively to that, maybe it never glowed before because it’s actually a magic shirt, and it’s only glowing now because orcs are near. I should probably make sure my doors are locked.


I Find Your Lack of Angst Disturbing

Spoiler warning for “The Force Awakens”:

There’s a statistic I read years ago (and which I can’t find now, but which I’m pretty sure is accurate) that talked about the amount of money that goes into the training and experience of the highest-level military commanders. When you look at a general or an admiral and sum up the total cost of paying them for the long years they’ve spent in military service, plus the cost of the training and support that goes into creating a qualified, experienced, and effective top-level combat soldier, the number I read back in the day places it in the millions of dollars. The highest-grade military leaders represent a huge investment in military infrastructure, in other words, so that the loss of a high-ranking commander in action is a pretty big deal.

In reaction to The Force Awakens, some people are doing a lot of moaning about how Kylo Ren is this whiny, emo goth boy because of how he deals with his anger management issues by going all medieval on computer consoles and other equipment. Many of these people are unfavorably comparing Kylo Ren to Darth Vader, who by comparison is supposedly all cool and detached and malevolent, yo, like a villain should be. Except that in The Empire Strikes Back, Darth Vader deals with his own anger management issues by killing high-ranking Imperial officers every time they annoy or disappoint him — and it always seemed pretty clear to me that in Star Wars, Vader would have choked Admiral Motti to death if Tarkin hadn’t warned him off it, so it seems a safe bet that this is kind of Vader’s thing.

To me, destroying the most valuable human assets in your military — and presumably creating massive rank-upheaval and morale issues in the chain of command below those now-dead assets — seems much more of a petulant, emotionally unhinged act than doing an impromptu light-saber reno on an interrogation room. But clearly, I think about this shit way too much.



Working primarily (like, let’s say 60 percent/40 percent) as an editor means that for the most part, even people who love stuff that I’ve worked on have absolutely no idea who I am or what I do.

And sometimes I think it would be nice to try to change that, if only to be able to engage a little more directly with the wider world of fans and gamers and readers who partake in the creative arenas I’m involved with.

And then other times, I see the unending tsunami of toxic bullshit that many of the better-known and higher-profile designer/writer friends of mine have to deal with on a daily basis in reaction to their own work, and I think to myself, “You know what? A little bit of anonymity might not be such a bad thing…"