Category: WWdN in Exile

I spent the last four days in Bat Country, while recovering from major sinus surgery. I’ll spare the gory (and oh my god are they gory) details, but when all this packing comes out of my sinuses on Tuesday, I can look forward to not snoring all night and waking up with a skull crushing sinus headache for the first time in about ten years. I’m planning a party, all by myself with some toast and a cup of coffee.

I don’t think I’ll be posting much until I’m back to normal, but I didn’t want anyone to think I’ll fallen down a well next to little Timmy Turner.O’Toole. (My bad. I’m so full of painkillers and meds that all I can do ism,nsdnsakazza,mmp.)

Unless Sting wants to write a song about it, in which case, please send your love down the well.

Over at Joystiq, Griffin McElroy wrote about Keith David’s growing celebrity in video games. He’s probably best known for playing the Arbiter in Halo 2 and Halo 3, but he’s also in Mass Effect and a bunch of other extremely popular games.

McElroy takes this condescending, dismissive tone toward Keith David’s career, calling him a "B-List" actor, and implying that, because he hadn’t worked that often on camera recently, he resorted to voices in video games, where — hey, backhanded compliment — he’s doing surprisingly well for himself!

"These kinds of jobs are quickly gaining popularity in Hollywood, says
Reuters, as voice work provides a much steadier paycheck than that of
on-screen roles. We see it as a win-win situation — down on their luck
actors with distinct voices can find a nice amount of celebrity in the
gaming realm…"

Wow. This is so profoundly misinformed, and based on such confirmation bias, it’s too stupid to be offensive. I’ve been fortunate enough to spend a lot of time doing voice work, both for video games and for animation, and it is not easy. "Down on their luck actors" don’t get to just walk into a studio and
wave around their list of long-forgotten on-camera achievements in
exchange for a job. You can only get cast in these jobs — and keep
them — if you have the skills and talent to earn them. It’s an incredibly closed community where the gates are jealously guarded by people who work very, very hard to get inside, and once you’re there, you have to constantly work your ass off to stay there, because there are so many people working just as hard to take your place.

Here’s a shocking truth: a lot of so-called "A-list" celebrities don’t have what it takes to succeed in voice acting, because it’s an entirely different set of skills, and an entirely different work ethic. It’s hard, and it’s competitive, and it’s not someplace "down on their luck actors with distinct voices" go when they can’t go anywhere else. To imply otherwise is an insult to the actors whose voices bring these characters to life. I find that truly offensive.

In addition to being really funny, the latest xkcd is rather timely.

I was a vi or vim guy when I needed to use a text editor (that’s how I did most of the original WWdN updates, via ssh back in the old days,) and my standard line to give emacs fanboys was, "Emacs? Yeah, I’ve tried to use it, but I could never find the text editor."

Then we’d go back to arguing about stuff that really mattered, like which captain was better.

(Concluded from part two)

When I was done a few minutes later, I walked back to the hotel —
which was only about 100 yards away — and stopped into the hospitality
suite for some pretzels and water. Normally, I’d grab a beer and unwind
after a show, but I’m having sinus surgery next week, and I’ve been on
doctor’s orders to have absolutely no alcohol, pain relievers,
vitamins, or fun for the last two weeks, so I’d have to unwind the old
fashioned way: geeking out with my fellow nerds about various geek
things.

Or so I thought. When I walked into the hospitality suite, they were playing Rock Band. Oh yeah.

I played a few songs, and left when I realized I was at that point
where I’d either stop, or keep playing for another four hours. Since it
was already after ten, I’d gotten little sleep the night before, and I
had a big day ahead of me on Sunday, I chose responsibly and went
upstairs to bed.

It was pouring rain when I woke up on Sunday, but that didn’t keep
anyone away as far as I could tell. By the time I was in my seat at 10,
the vendor’s room was already filling up with people, and lines were
beginning to form at my table by 10:30.

Sundays are always slower than Saturdays, though, so I got a chance
to visit with the indie publishers and artists around me. As I talked
with them — mostly with Daniel from Steam Crow — I realized how much
I’ve changed since I started blogging.

In Just A Geek, I recalled a trip to San Diego ComiCon in 2001:

ComiCon was nothing like I had expected, and the truth is,
it was a horrible experience. I went there expecting to sell hundreds
of autographed pictures to hundreds of adoring fans, but hardly anyone
was interested. I sat in a cavernous and undecorated area far away from
the main convention floor, surrounded by people who were definitely on
the downside of their careers.

While talking with Daniel, I noted that we were talking about
publishing costs and marketing strategies. We were talking about about
building our respective brands, and how much more fun and rewarding it
was to do this stuff on our own, rather than the so-called
"traditional" (I call it "old") way of doing things.

"Just a few years ago," I said, "I rarely came to conventions as a
guest, because I felt like I was trying to hold on to whatever fading
celebrity I once had. I didn’t do it because I wanted to be famous
again. I did it because, at the time, it was all I could do,
which was so much worse. But now, when I go to cons, I feel good about
it. I look forward to it, because I feel like I can share the Star Trek
thing with people who love it, but I’m really here as an indie
publisher, just like you."

I thought for a second and added, "You know what it’s like? It’s like — "

"Don’t say ‘rising from the ashes’ while you’re in Phoenix! Don’t say ‘rising from the ashes’ while you’re in Phoenix!" My brain screamed at me.

"It’s sort of like rising from the ashes for me, in a way, which is a pretty lame thing to say since I’m in Phoenix."

"Do you even listen to me anymore? That’s it," my brain said. "I’m out of here."

"I am so lame" I said. Daniel and his wife assured me that I was not, but we all know better, don’t we?

Shortly after that, the con was over. I packed up my stuff, thanked
everyone who brought me out for the show — especially Matt, who runs
the thing — and got a ride to the airport.

One annoying game of Airport Madness! and a pretty bumpy flight later, my wife picked me up from the airport.

"How was your trip?" She asked me, when I got in the car.

"It was awesome," I said.

"Did you have fun? Did you get your geek on?"

"Yeah, I totally did," I said. "I can’t wait for next year."

I leaned over and kissed her.

"I’m happy to be home, though," I said.

"Yeah, I missed my husband," she said.

I still love it when she calls me "her husband."

"I love that I’m your husband," I said.

"Stop it."

"Sorry. I do."

"I like that a whole lot." She said.

"Yeah, it’s pretty awesome."

She pulled out into traffic, and we drove home as the rain began to fall.

I have a sticker on my car that says, "There is no place like 127.0.0.1"

I get to explain it to a lot of people, and I’m usually rewarded with a blank look, followed by a pitying look, followed by parents holding on tightly to their children as they move away slowly at first, then quickly, never turning their backs on me.

Such is the life of a geek among normals.

My pal R. Stevens, creator of the always-awesome Diesel Sweeties comic, has a new T-shirt with a different take on the 127.0.0.1 joke that hit a little close to 127.0.0.1 for me:

There will be 10 kinds of people in the world: those who get this shirt, and those who don’t.

(Okay, that was taking it just a little to far, I will admit.)