Turning point

It was late 1999, I was out of work and doing a week-long find-a-job course at an employment agency. We'd reached the ultimate session on the Friday afternoon when the moderators sprung a choice on us: everyone who went to Room A could put together one last batch of applications (taking full advantage of the advice, computers, stationery and stamps on offer), while those who went to Room B would be told all about their *guaranteed* volunteer roles at the upcoming Sydney Olympics. As much as I loved trying new things back then, I chose the first option. And a letter written in that sesh led to an interview, which led to a trial, which led to a gig, which led to more than 15 years in magazine publishing. But what if I'd gone to Room B?

F&C&S

A girl I hung with in the 2000s would season her fish'n'chips by emptying a satchet of salt into one hand, then rubbing both of her hands together over the food. Still freaks me out.

Optional rules for backyard cricket

Use or ignore based on the number of players and their ages/abilities.

Automatic Wicky: If a nick from the batsman carries to a designated area directly behind the stumps, e.g. a garage door, they are considered to have been caught behind.

Can't Get Out First Ball: Self-explanatory.

Can't Go From Batting To Bowling: Ditto. (This one's for bigger groups, where you don't want dominant types hogging the fun positions.) 

Electric Wickets: Usually employed when there is a lone batsman, and especially when there aren't two proper sets of stumps. They can be run out at either end, regardless of which they're heading for.

"Interference!": An appeal against your dismissal on the grounds that you were hip-checked by a fielder or whatever.

"Lost Ball!": If the tenno's disappeared into a cactus and the batsmen have already run eight, it's reasonable to give this cry and halt play.

No LBW: Self-explanatory. (Often used in the absence of an umpire.)

One Hand On The Bounce: Makes catching easier for younger/less skilled cricketers. Variations include One Hand Off The Roof.

Six And Out: Rule designed to deter older brothers repeatedly slogging shots over logical boundaries into unfriendly neighbours' yards, onto a busy road or into dense bushland.

Tippy-Go-Run: If the ball touches your bat, you MUST run at least a single.

Diary excerpt from my days in Rotorua, NZ

“The Wai-O-Tapu Thermal Wonderland is an 18km² reserve covered in craters, caves, pools, geysers and other formations. There are three hiking trails, colour-coded red, orange and yellow in order of difficulty. The guide tells us we have time for the first, plus the second if we hurry. I set off at a brisk pace and soon find myself passing such natural wonders as the Devil’s Ink Pots. Standing alone on a bridge over a sulphurous pond, surrounded by smoke, is an unforgettable experience. I proceed from the red trail onto the orange, then contemplate starting the yellow until a sign warns me it takes 75 minutes. Reluctantly return to the carpark. Non-one else has bothered with the second trail and they are all waiting for me.”

Nothing awful, don't worry

This is what I remember about being an altar boy. Whoever arrived first got the best robe, with the best sash. When the priest wasn't looking, we'd twirl the cross like a kung-fu staff. During mass, we'd ring the bell as long/loudly as we could get away with, perhaps hoping to make each other giggle. Most actions would also be deliberately exaggerated. Dousing candles, we'd "accidentally" spill hot wax onto our hands so we could peel it off. (The guy who taught me that is now a respected chef.) Afterwards, we'd gossip about what we'd observed among the congregation from our perch. It wasn't really about religious devotion, was it?

Pilgrim's progress

On the latest "Axe Of The Blood God" podcast, they mentioned that this year is (kinda) the 10th anniversary of lovestruck and suprisingly ass-kicking slacker muso Scott Pilgrim. In 2010, the sixth and final volume of the "Scott Pilgrim" comic was published AND the "Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World" movie adaptation was released in cinemas. I used to own the graphic novels. Must have gifted or loaned them to someone. Had the Blu-ray, too. It's possible that went to charity in my somewhat rushed relocation from Sydney. The only SP merch I have left is the Knives Chau Pop! Vinyl. Are rebuys allowed?

Troll master

Champion Danish artist Thomas Dambo builds stuff out of scrap wood. Specifically, he builds giant trolls. He and his crew have constructed them in various parts of the world and recently "hid" 10 newies around Denmark for peeps to find and enjoy.

TD's website is here - https://thomasdambo.com/

Hopefully he would be all right with me borrowing this image (of a car-crushing troll in Puerto Rico) as an example. There's a huge amount of creativity in the positioning of each wooden wonder, so you oughta take a look at the above site.

10 things you can do with a desk fan

1. Keep cool while writing/typing.

2. Imitate a Dalek voice.

3. Pose for a photo with a cinematic wind in your hair.

4. Dry glue, paint or even a piece of clothing.

5. Propel a Matchbox car that has a sail made from a pencil and note paper.

6. Stop your dodgy old computer/console from overheating.

7. Raise the difficulty of tossing crumpled paper into your office bin.

8. Divert cigarette smoke out a window.

9. Get to sleep on a muggy night.

10. Show your love for Kirby!

Diary entry from my day on Norfolk Island

"My three-hour nature walk was cancelled as none of the 2000-odd other cruisers signed up! Lazy sods. Instead of booking an alternative excursion, I opted to do my own thang. Wandered the shopping precinct, sent a postcard to RS, ate a packet of trail mix and bought an air freshener for the cabin. Didn't pay $30 to enter tourist attraction King Tut's Tomb. Maybe I should have. The line for the shuttle bus to the jetty was so long that locals were helping ferry folks in their cars. I scored a lift with - judging by her striking looks - a Tahitian princess. Asked her about sport on N/I. Despite the small population, the high level of participation means they can still stage multi-team competitions."

Shadowy punk space

It was the first meeting of the university gamers' society for the semester, and there was a large whiteboard with coloured markers so you could write down any RPGs you were keen to run, along with your contact details. I put that I wanted to organise a uni group to play FASA's "Shadowrun" (1989). Another person was after players for R. Talsorian's "Cyberpunk" (1988). A third for Iron Crown's "Cyberspace" (1989). All three of us were offering the definitive CP experience, like rival churches claiming possession of the same saint's bones. In the end, I had one taker, and I'd be astonished if the other GMs recruited more than 1-2 people. We'd effectively divided the player pool and conquered ourselves. My "Shadowrun" campaign never went ahead, although I chatted to the interested fella on the phone about aspects of the system we liked. Just as well no-one had been proposing to run SJG's brand-new "GURPS Cyberpunk" (1990) or I might not have even got that much!

Not-so-super gig

Dreamt that my old pals BS, AP and I were lowly office workers at a superhero headquarters. The minions of the supervillains were trying to get sensitive info out of us. B. was straight out threatened, I was tailed wherever I went and A. eventually quit before something similar could happen to him. For their part, the heroes were oblivious to our hassles. The plot didn't have a chance to develop any further because I am a poor sleeper. Would one of us have turned traitor?

Help from RSA

My parents went to Bunnings yesterday and collected the wheelbarrow I'd bought Dad for Christmas. They wheeled it out to the car and were deciding how to rope it to the roof racks when a friendly South African chap offered to do it for them. At first, Mum thought he was a staff member, then she realised he wasn't. Regardless, he quickly and confidently did the job. "That won't move," he told them, when he'd finished the last expert knot. And it didn't. Not even an inch on the trip home, according to M+D. I think they were as chuffed by the helpful act as the barrow itself.

Mozzies

Just went out to clean and refill our three bird baths, because you're not meant to use the garden hose between 10am and 4pm. Regret to report Mosquito Season is already in full swing. Must have killed a dozen of the tiny pests that landed on my arms and legs...which probably means I missed half a dozen that bit me. There's little we can do about this annual plague of miniature vampires. OK, we can avoid letting water pool in containers other than the bird baths, to deny them additional breeding spots. But given that this suburb is surrounded by rivers, creeks and wetlands, we're really on a hiding to nothing. Five minutes down the road is Hexham, which has a giant mosquito named after it (the Hexham Grey), and a lawn-bowling club whose mascot is Ozzie The Mozzie!

Because why not?

Don't ask me why but I woke up wondering if it would be possible to base a shortish "D&D" session on the Prince song "Thieves In The Temple" (1990). As a track that I think is simply about infidelity in a relationship, it doesn't necessarily lend itself to a swords-and-sorcery romp. However, there are key lyrics that might form the outline of an adventure...

* "They don't care where they kick / Just as long as they hurt you"

* "I can hang when you're around / But I'll surely die if you're not there"

* "I feel like I'm looking for my soul / Like a poor man looking for gold"

* "Voices from the sky say rely on your best friend..."

* "Tearing me, tearing me, tearing me all apart / 'Cos me and you could have been a work of art"

So here's my attempt:

The PCs are members of a religious order and live in a temple that houses a holy artifact they believe is a fragment of the soul of their deity. Let's say it's a super-heavy crystal figurine. While it sits in place, they gain all the benefits of their abilities and their leader has a direct line to an avatar. Should it ever be lost, their god will be displeased, their powers diminished and divine communication will cease. 

Alas for these clerics, the artifact has come to the attention of an evil master wizard who reckons he can use it in the complicated process of transforming himself into a lich. Too cautious to take direct action, he hires a team of shadow monks to steal the figure for him, ordering them to spill no blood on the sacred ground. The last thing he needs interrupting his bid for eternal unlife is a vengeful deity! 

On the same moonlit night that the monks conduct their raid, a local rogue also sneaks into the temple, possibly looking for a fine chalice to sell on the black market or just food for an empty belly. This loner might temporarily distract the PCs from the real threat before evading capture, or else subtly point 'em in the right direction as they hunt down the intruders. Perhaps he isn't what he seems.

The party will realise there's a disturbance in the temple when the character with the highest wisdom hears an unearthly voice crying, "They are taking me from where I must remain! Woe to your order if they are not stopped. The high priest knows the soul crystal's secret." When questioned, the h/p reveals the figurine is actually a living creature that will die if kept outside of the temple for too long.

The high priest will not provide direct assistance to the young clerics, though, believing - rightly - that they've been divinely called to deal with the crisis. So begins a race against time. Once any alarm is sounded, the shadow monks split into two groups: half delaying the PCs, while the others leave via an alternate route than how they entered. Make the building/grounds as substantial as you like!

Should the chase continue into an adjacent urban or wilderness area (dealer's choice), the players will catch glimpses of the mega-heavy figurine being lugged by a pair of thieves and see to their horror it is cracking and chipping. Increasing the difficulty of the rescue, when the monks are off holy ground, they will switch from immobilising kicks, etc. to deadlier weapons if forced to stand and fight.

But maybe the party has an unexpected ally ready to step in at a critical juncture. A rogue who isn't a rogue. Whose presence in the temple on this particular eve was no accident. Who bears a grudge against the wicked martial artists' wizard employer. And who views thwarting the theft as part of his revenge for a terrible wrong done in a far-off kingdom where he holds a different role: that of prince.

Tolkien about division

I owned the cassette original of "The Hobbit" for the Commodore 64 and, try as I might, could not beat it. Meanwhile, an unassuming kid in my year completed said text adventure without cheating. Our junior high separated students by academic ability, with six classes for each form. I was in the top class, while the aforementioned kid was at least a couple below. I remember the situation with that C64 game being one of the moments when I realised the school's ranking system was bollocks. That there was a lot more to intelligence than IQ tests, and everyone had their strengths and weaknesses. As the years have gone by, Facebook updates and a 25th-anniversary reunion have shown me that being in 7-1 rather than 7-6 back then was absolutely no guarantee of success in life. Time has also taught me how other factors, such as perseverance, can be just as important as smarts. Perhaps the fundamental difference between myself and the "Hobbit"-solver was that I cared about being in the top group and he didn't. He was busy with other quests.

I asked five friends to message me their opinion of academically separated high-school classes in five words or less. Here are the responses in the order I received them:

* PG: "Rarely went. Wouldn't know."
* RS: "Segregation is a bad idea."
* SC: "We didn't have that scenario."
* PB: "Pragmatic thinking with potential consequences."
* CM: "Many students left behind."

Halloween 2020

My at-home celebration began with a viewing of 2016 Korean zombie movie "Train To Busan" on Netflix. It wasn't just a good horror film, it was a good film full stop. Well made, proper characterisation, super suspenseful, no dumb Hollywood plot twists, genuinely moving. Now looking forward to the sequel, "Peninsula", which I found out about in issue #201 of "Neo" mag.

The festivities continued with a Fry's Turkish Delight, which is equivalent to a bag full of candy when you reach a certain age :-)

If I owned the new Stephen King anthology, I'd then have read one of the yarns in there. Instead, I opted for a "strange story", as he called them, from each of the Robert Aikman collections shown. (Ignore the novel "The Model" - dunno why I included that in the photo.) Rather than try to guess which were the most chilling, I simply read the titular tales...

"The Wine-Dark Sea" opens with a tourist on a Greek island who can't find anyone to take him out to a nearby islet near which he spotted an ancient sailing ship. In "The Unsettled Dust", a bloke from a historic homes trust stays in a mansion where everything is constantly being coated with dust and the custodians and staff don't seem to care.

Both stories featured mysterious women AND mysterious architecture. Creepy coincidence?

My scary videogame was side-scrolling beater "Splatterhouse" on the TurboGrafx-16 Mini. Y'know, where you play a hockey mask-wearing, machete-wielding, erm, hero? The first time I saw "S." in the arcade - either 1988 or '89 - it was being skilfully played by a fellow student from my Catholic high school who I knew to be in a hardcore group that held extra prayer meetings and whatnot. So that was odd.

The nostalgic button-mashing was followed by listening to a podcast, specifically the "New Scientist Weekly" pod's Halloween Special. I learnt about a vampiric medical treatment, a possible explanation for ghosts, zombie microbes and more. On a topical note, I've found this podcast is among the best sources for the latest Covid-related information.

Second portion of my spook-tacular reading was the recent Dark Horse Comics "Stranger Things" one-shot set slightly before Season 1 of the TV show...on October 31. Sitting around a campfire, the lads are sharing the usual lame urban legends when Will lets slip about a monster from the town of Hawkins' murky past. This was a fun standalone that didn't contradict existing continuity and was very easy to believe *might* have taken place. Solid likenesses and dialogue.

The last time I did one of these seasonal roundups, I threw in a pic of a professional cosplayer in an appropriately themed outfit. On this occasion, it's the talented Shirogane-sama as an original creation of her own named Pum-Pumpkin. Image used respectfully - hopefully the lady wouldn't mind. (You can follow her on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook and probably other social-media platforms as well.)

While typing this blog entry, I've concluded my celebration by playing the 1.5+ hour "Digitiser Halloween Special" on YouTube on a separate monitor. A brilliant shambles of a thing. Helps if you're familiar with those retro gamers/jokers involved. Give it a go even if you aren't.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=00FCPMlEQjo