wheatonbot needs moar coffee

Posted on By Wil

When I do my gag reel intros for Tabletop, I always get them to my producer on Tuesday, because they need to be edited and uploaded by noon on Wednesday for a release on Thursday.

And you just thought it all happened by magic! For shame. For shame.

I’ve been so busy lately, with various secret projects and w00tstock at Sketchfest and preparations for JoCo Cruise Crazy next week, I completely forgot to record my intro for this week’s gag reel. Nick, my producer, emailed me this morning to remind me that I hadn’t sent it in, and that we were running out of time to get it done. I looked at the clock, realized that I didn’t have time to really put myself together and record it, so I asked Anne if she’d just shoot me for a minute or so at our dining room table.

This was also not as easy as it sounds, because she’s doing online traffic school thanks to an epic bullshit ticket (70 in a 65 on the Interstate, no radar, she fought it and lost. Shasta County is corrupt IMHO) and can only take short breaks during the day.

Luckily for us and people who enjoy my bed head posts at G+, the stars aligned and we were able to shoot the intro. Here’s the (in my opinion hilarious) thumbnail that my shows up in my finder when I look at the file:

Wheatonbot needs more coffee.
Wheatonbot needs more coffee.

Yes, that’s the bathrobe I wear every day. I got it from Think Geek. It’s as awesome as you think.

You can see the intro I recorded, and the gag reel it introduces, tomorrow at Internet o’clock on Geek and Sundry. You can see a little tease from the gag reel right now.

Today: New Tabletop! Tomorrow: W00tstock Founder’s Night at SF Sketchfest!

Posted on By Wil

I’m really excited for everyone to see today’s new episode of Tabletop; it’s the Dragon Age RPG! I am in a party with with Chris Hardwick, Sam Witwer, and Kevin Sussman. Our GM is my friend and Dragon Age RPG designer, Chris Pramas.

BEHOLD:

Also, if you’re in San Francisco (or reasonably close to San Francisco) tomorrow night, you can come see me, Adam Savage, and Paul and Storm in W00tstock Founder’s Night at Sketchfest. At the moment, the show is nearly sold out, but if you hurry and clap loud enough, you may get lucky. There may be a song about pirates, and I will say at least one swear.

a matter of perspective

Posted on By Wil

I just watched, for the first time in over 20 years, the third season blooper reel from Star Trek The Next Generation. It’s going to be included on the Blu-Ray disc, and I get to see it before it’s released to offer any notes or concerns that will be politely ignored.

It’s very, very funny. By the third season, we were all a very close-knit family on the set, and when we messed up, we laughed about it and reset the scene.

Well, everyone, that is, but me. In this reel, when I screw up, I get angry at myself. I try to laugh, but it’s clear that I am frustrated beyond belief. I say, “I am so sorry,” but without any of the 10th Doctor’s charm. My frustration and embarrassment is palpable.

When I watched this just now, I viscerally remembered being that awkward 15 and then 16 year-old kid, with the awful helmet hair, the uncomfortable grey spacesuit with the embarrassing muscle suit underneath it, and almost crippling desire to be the kind of cool I was never going to be. I remembered how, when I was on the bridge spouting nothing but technobabble (which was a large percentage of what Wesley got to do in Season 3, so much so that it lead to my asking to be written off the show), it was so hard to remember because it didn’t mean anything, and that was frustrating on a number of levels. I wanted to be an actor. I wanted to perform a character, and most of what I remember doing that season was plotting courses and saying “Aye, sir.” In the blissful, arrogant ignorance of being a teenager, it never occurred to me that there were eight regular cast members, and everyone except the Holy Trinity of Picard, Riker and Data had their turn spouting technobabble and saying “Aye, sir.” I was the only one who was too young and foolish to understand. I was the only one who was too young and foolish to attempt to understand.

Wesley (and I) did get to do some really great things in Season 3: The Bonding is fantastic and Ron Moore wrote a couple of magnificent scenes for Wesley in that episode, Evolution was pretty awesome (and I got to work a lot with Whoopi, which was as totally cool as you’d expect it to be, and got real character growth from writer Michael Piller), and Yesterday’s Enterprise remains one of my favourite episodes of all time. But, like youth being wasted on the young, most of what made that season awesome was wasted on me.

Season 3 and part of Season 4 are really tough for me to watch, because I regret being such a tool back then. I wish I could go back in time and tell that kid to relax and enjoy what was a pretty awesome job, but I know that he wouldn’t listen to me any more than he’d have listened to anyone else. He was a confused, weird, awkward nerd trying so hard to be an adult, and failing spectacularly.

I wish I could go back in time and have a talk with that kid, but I learned something important from Star Trek when Picard told Riker: “There are many parts of my youth that I’m not proud of… there were loose threads… untidy parts of me that I would like to remove. But when I pulled on one of those threads… it had unraveled the tapestry of my life.”

I will continue to simultaneously feel ashamed of myself, embarrassed by myself, but compassionate towards myself. That kid was doing the best that he could, and I’ll keep trying to accept that. Maybe one day, I’ll even make peace with it.

 

“You see an iron door at the end of the corridor. The door has three lightning bolts engraved on it.”

Posted on By Wil

When I played D&D as a kid, I always wanted to be a magic user, not because it was easy, but because it was hard*. I died a lot in those days of d4 hit points and three worthless levels of cantrip spells before you got to do anything, but when a wizard survived and got powerful enough to melt goblins with fireballs … boy, was that awesome.

I don’t play as much as I used to, and I haven’t even run a game of my own or played in a regular campaign in a couple of years, but with the recent release of classic D&D modules as PDFs, I feel the itch to run Basic rules… you know, for kids.

GS-Tabletop-LogoIf I was going to play, though? I think I’d have to be a barbarian or fighter now, because I have fallen in love with the d12. It’s such a beautiful die, and it just doesn’t get any love at all (that’s why I chose it for Tabletop). I know it’s kind of weird to choose a class based on what kind of dice you’ll be rolling, but it’s where I find myself at the moment … and I’m really okay with that.
…Hmmmm I was going to write all about what it means to switch my preferred class from magic user to fighter based on the die I’d be rolling …. but now I can’t stop thinking that a Geek & Sundry show where I run a classic D&D campaign using Basic rules — maybe a modified module or series of modules or something like that — for six or eight episodes would be pretty awesome. Like, maybe a visit to the Lost City?

The walls of this room as plain stone. An oblong box made from stone slabs lies in the center of the room. Written in several languages on the side of the box are the words: "May the curse of darkness destroy all who dare desecrate my resting place." The box is 3' high, 7' long, and 3' wide. - From The Lost City (Dungeon Module B4)
The walls of this room as plain stone. An oblong box made from stone slabs lies in the center of the room. Written in several languages on the side of the box are the words: “May the curse of darkness destroy all who dare desecrate my resting place.” The box is 3′ high, 7′ long, and 3′ wide. – From The Lost City (Dungeon Module B4) Yes, this is actually mine and I actually scanned it. It was printed in 1980.

I mean, I’ll stay focused on making season two of Tabletop happen, but once we get that locked down, I bet an RPG show would be really, really great. (At least for me, because I’d have an excuse to play it: “Sorry, Anne, but I have to read this module and these rules and prepare these characters … because it’s my job and I have to do it so we can eat.“)

*I’ve written about this before, but I can’t find that post or story or column despite 20 minutes of searching. If it rings a bell for you, please let me know so I can link it.