Luck is believing you are lucky.

It’s a pithy quote, but one that’s resonated with me, and I think is deeper than it first appears. I have been described as lucky, and from a cosmic standpoint, I am. I won the character creation die roll at birth and have been gifted with a great deal of opportunity throughout my life.

At the same time, I’ve known a great many people who have had the same opportunities and gifts as I have and have failed to do much with them. Often, this is a result of a cascade of events that leaves them rather worse off than they started– a “string of bad luck”. I joke with friends about bad luck (I’ve commented about how my luck in games is awful unless I stand a chance of harming someone else’s experience through a random string of good luck, at which point it happens a lot), but the reality is I don’t actually believe in bad luck.

Luck, for me, is something you can only see in hindsight. After something has happened, you can look back on it and say “wow, that was lucky”. Much of the good fortune I’ve had in my life I can look back and say “oh, huh, that was lucky” in hindsight. Luck isn’t a safety net; you can’t live expecting things to go well for you because when they inevitably don’t, everything will fall apart because it’s easy to get into a cascade failure if you’ve left things to chance and have no real safety nets.

image from the new york times

I use luck as a way to appreciate good things that have happened to me that I wasn’t a direct part of, and to clear my mind about the bad things that have occurred that I’ve had no control over. It lets me better understand what I should take credit or responsibility for and what I shouldn’t. It helps me keep my cool and keep a clear head in a crisis.

To use a recent, low-impact example: In the Infinity tournament I played recently, I suffered what some might call a string of bad luck in the second round, losing more than half my force in my opponent’s first turn, to a single model that cut a bloody swathe through my lines, and then getting heavily locked down. My opponent commented later that he was intimidated by how calm I was as I lost almost every single one of my critical pieces. The reality was that I was rapidly trying to figure out what to do next as I lost die roll after die roll, but I was confident that my choices had been correct ones and my dice failing me wasn’t something I could control. Instead, I focused on my turn, and what actions I was going to take in response. It gave me a clarity of purpose that was entirely separate from the die rolls I was losing.

photo courtesy of Toadchild and the Card Kingdom Facebook page

By the end of my second turn, I’d won the round, despite suffering crippling losses and barely scratching the paint on my opponent’s force– I think he lost perhaps a single model in the entire round. I could have easily gotten caught up in how bad my luck had been (and falling into the trap of assuming it would continue), or started taking reckless chances with low odds of success (something I’ve seen a lot of people do when put in tight spots). Rather than blaming my poor luck or trying to use luck as a safety net, though, I was able to win by doubling down on the choices I’d previously made that I thought were good, not using luck as a proof that my choices were bad and not worth following through on and not breaking from the plan. I had fewer tools to work with, but the plan was still intact.

In the previous turn, I’d set up a number of objectives for myself, playing very aggressively and securing a strong lead. I was still in the lead as my opponent ended his turn, just not quite as far ahead. Rather than trying to retaliate against my opponent, I simply continued the plan I’d started with, finishing off the objectives I’d set up. I had one model who could accomplish that goal, but he was able to do it before getting knocked out at the end of my turn. Looking back, I was lucky that my rolls worked out as well as I would’ve liked, but the reality was that my choices in my previous turn had given me what I needed to secure victory, even put very far behind in my opponent’s turn.

photo by joe philipson

Despite appearances, I’m actually extremely risk-averse. I take a lot of chances that seem risky, but I’ve often done a lot to mitigate or negate the penalties for failure. I’ll take long-shot chances if the risks are low, but I’ll rarely take even good chances if the stakes are very high. As a result, from the outside, it looks like I’m taking a lot of chances and somehow making most of them work, but the reality is that I’m only taking chances that don’t harm me overmuch if I fail.

From the outside, this looks like luck. On the inside, I believe in my ability to assess and mitigate risk, and the choices I make as a result.

Luck is believing you are lucky.

I’ve talked before about the joys of unsophisticated play. The low-to-mid tier of play has a lot of joys that are often left out in the mad scramble many make for the top, competitive tiers of play. Whether that’s missing out on the fun of playing suboptimally and organically discovering strategies or remembering to read the story as you work your way to max level, there are a lot of things you miss if you don’t stop and smell the roses.

On the other hand, the experience of playing a game both competently and competitively is an experience and a joy all its own, and is worth pursuing even if you don’t consider yourself a competitive player. I’ve spoken to a lot of people who look at games or parts of games that seem “too hard”, and I know they’re able to do them– I’ve seen them exercise the necessary skills. Our (first) raid in FFXIV was extremely skittish about going into Coil, because coil was “really hard” and we weren’t sure of ourselves. We crushed everything up to Turn 5, and once we passed Turn 5 we slammed through most of Second Coil all the way to Turn 9. This week, we took our break from Turn 9 attempts to fight some new primals, taking down Titan EX for some folks who hadn’t gotten it, and also dropping Odin and Leviathan EX.

We had avoided Good King Moggle Mog Extreme for months, because of its reputation for being super rough, and once we stepped foot inside we won within three attempts, and can more or less trivially farm that boss. The group is very skilled and very capable, we just need to remind ourselves of that on occasion.

I want to take a little break to talk a bit about fun. Stealing a page from Raph Koster’s book, fun is what happens when your brain is exercising. You see patterns and enjoy watching them recur, and causing them to recur in the game. When you’ve mastered the patterns, the game becomes boring. You become frustrated when the game presents you with what looks like noise. When that noise resolves itself into a pattern, or when you can start to see how the chaos becomes something sensible, that’s when your brain is having fun.

Everyone is at a different level when it comes to this sort of thing. Players playing at unsophisticated levels of play are having fun because they’re resolving the noise into patterns still. Highly skilled players playing at that level will be bored, because they’ve mastered those patterns and want to move to higher tiers.

You can keep a game fun for a lot longer than you might expect by raising the difficulty– either literally or by trying more and more difficult things, keeping yourself at that level where you haven’t mastered the patterns but you’re not just looking at noise. The worst that happens is you fail, no different from an accidental misclick or a lost ‘net connection, or just jumping off a platform to see if you can.

I mentioned above that there’s enjoyment to be had in watching patterns recur– this is why we see very similar movies and similar themes in TV shows, why a particular type of entertainment is popular for a while and you feel inundated with the type. If you’re looking at the available offerings and feel like they’re all the same and uninteresting, you’re either looking at a pattern and just seeing noise, or you’ve mastered the pattern and gotten bored with it. It’s why game publishers run franchises into the ground and why WoW gets a spike of people with each expansion and loses them more and more quickly each time.

For myself, I don’t play fighting games or most board games at a terribly sophisticated level. If I play either one at all, I play it once or twice and move on to something new, a different experience. In the case of fighting games, I understand the patterns conceptually but in practice they’re all just noise to me. I have a low threshold for memorization, and tend to avoid games where skill is about memorizing or keeping long strings of data in my head.

On the other hand, when the new Thief came out, I played it start to finish not just on the highest difficulty setting, but with about 80% of the additional “even harder” options active. I played through Dishonored on my first playthrough at the highest difficulty setting and went for the wholly-pacifist “Clean Hands” ending. I love those types of games, and I’m used to the patterns enough that I want the additional challenge or the game is boring for me.

In a similar vein, I have rarely played the same Infinity list twice, and have never brought the same list to two different tournaments. Constantly changing my lists keeps me seeing new patterns and keeps the game fresh for me.

The trick is to find a balance between trivial, assured victory and frustrating, predictable defeat. Don’t be afraid to lose or fail, because doing both of those things is how your brain realizes something is exciting and a potential test of its abilities.

I haven’t been playing a lot recently. I’ve hopped on for FFXIV raids which have been a blast as always, but I haven’t been on much other than that to work on my character. A lot of that is I’m throttling back in preparation for Heavensward, which I plan to greedily consume as soon as it’s out. Normally, I play other games in the interim, but nothing is jumping out at me.

This probably has a lot to do with what I call “the pendulum”. I like a really wide swathe of genre fiction, from high fantasy to hard sci-fi and everything in between. My interests tend to swing back and forth– for a while I’ll be really, REALLY into swords and sorcery, and later on I’ll find fantasy boring and want to delve deep into cyberpunk or spaceflight. The pendulum is slow, and the right thing can keep me somewhere or another for months or more.

When a game comes out at “the wrong time” for me, it’s often because the pendulum hasn’t swung the right way yet. As of this writing, I’m fairly deep into a sci-fi arc. I want cyberpunk games, fancy technology, and exciting futures in my entertainment. I spent several minutes this evening holding the most recent expansion pack for Android: Netrunner, despite knowing that no one I know plays it and I don’t even love it myself, just because it scratched that cyberpunk itch. I’ve been doing a lot of work with my Infinity stuff lately, rebasing an entire faction and fiddling with colour schemes in photoshop to see what I like.

This part of the pendulum swing has lasted for a while. I started playing Elite: Dangerous in January, played all the way through Deus Ex: Human Revolution in February, have played around a lot with Dreamfall, and all the while have been hip deep in Infinity. In the meantime, I’ve tried multiple times to get into Pillars of Eternity, Warmachine Tactics, and my second playthrough of Dragon Age: Inquisition, all without much luck.

Last year, I was playing a ton of Dragon Age: Inquisition, Shadows of Mordor, Assassin’s Creed IV, and even some Divinity: Original Sin (when Ash and I remembered to sync up schedules). Borderlands: The Pre-Sequel dropped at a point where I really wanted to swing swords around and be a wizard, and it kind of passed me by.

There’s a bunch of stuff that sits neatly in the middle of the pendulum, though, and I can usually get into it no matter how I’m feeling. The biggest one of these is Star Wars, which blends sci-fi and fantasy well enough that I can be interested no matter how I feel. Loading up KOTOR is something I’ll do frequently, though I’ve been a little starved for good Star Wars games lately. Final Fantasy is often another that fits the bill, leaning a little more on the fantasy side but still pretty techy and satisfying. Even further towards fantasy are steampunk games like Arcanum or Dishonored or Thief. Modern Supernatural settings (Vampire: the Masquerade, The Secret World) are on the other side of middle, and Shadowrun is a little closer to sci-fi but still has that touch of fantasy (I’m convinced it’s the only reason I can talk some of the people I know into playing it).

What happens with me is that I’ll need to complete the swing, get all the way to one side of the spectrum before coming back. Right now, I really, REALLY want to play something in a nice chrome-and-holographics world and I’m frustrated by my inability to find anything. I could fly spaceships if I wanted, but I really want, essentially, Cloud Atlas the game. Fantasy is a lot easier for me– I can hop into Diablo or Guild Wars 2 or anything LOTR to get my fantasy fix, but sci-fi is a lot harder.

I’m still trawling for something that might give me the sci-fi fix I’m looking for, or, failing that, get the pendulum swinging back towards something else. In the meantime, time to reroll my Shadowrun: Dragonfall character for the tenth time or so.

In games, there’s a balance to be struck between realism and heroism. If the setting is too realistic, too much like the players don’t play a significant enough role, the game will feel pointless, with a lack of agency on the part of the players. If the setting is too unrealistic and caters to the players too much, it will feel contrived, like the world is just a set of facades without anything real behind them.

In a similar vein, agency is important. If your players have too much agency, they can run roughshod over anything you present, wandering the world and acting to their whims like callous, self-absorbed gods. If the world punishes them too harshly for any transgressions, the game can feel like a prison, where they must walk certain paths at certain times or get the lash.

I’m going to talk a bit more explicitly about tabletop games, but the kinds of things I’m describing can apply to other kinds of games as well.

Despite not ever running punishing, punitive games, I have a reputation among my players of setting up extremely worrying campaigns with a low margin for error. I chalk this up to me leaving a lot to my players’ imaginations, rather than being explicit about what’s going on. It’s the difference between saying “there aren’t any traps here” and “you detect no traps”. I take very detailed notes on the actions of my players in any given session, so that I know what information to present in later sessions. I drop a variety of vague hints as we play, but I like to leave it to my players to ask the right questions to accomplish their goals. This leaves me open to answer questions I didn’t anticipate and open up new paths, rather than proscriptively deciding how a puzzle or problem is to be solved before starting.

Much like improv theatre, it’s best to think of things in terms of “yes, and” rather than “no, but”. To use an example from a recent game session: the (Shadowrun) party is presented with a place to break into in order to spy on a pair of corporate executives who have been making their lives difficult. It’s a private casino that’s surprisingly inaccessible. The very first question I’m asked is “how do we get invitations?” This leads down an interesting path, where instead of a stealthy break-in, the team is looking at waltzing in like they belong. It’s a perfectly legitimate option, and there’s no reason they can’t make this sort of plan. What happens once they’re inside is going to be interesting, but it’s not an inherently flawed idea. The mission has just changed from a stealthy break-in to an elaborate masquerade.

I’ve had people comment to me that I’m extremely flexible when running games and never seem to be caught off-guard when my players take a random turn towards something bizarre. There’s a trick to this that I’ve used for years, that’s also how I keep my worlds feeling like worlds and not facades.

Behind the scenes, there are events that are playing out, based on a script. Mostly these aren’t things the players can influence, because they’re too detached from what the players are doing. Each session, every quest, mission, dungeon, and break-in yields more information about these events that are occurring out of sight. These aren’t the plans of the main villain of the campaign (if there even is one), they’re what’s going on in the broader world. There’s (rarely) any direct, earthshattering consequence to ignoring them, but they serve as my adventure hooks. Many are ignored, and the wheels continue turning in the background. Sometimes one comes to the fore, and the players can get ahead of it and start influencing the events either as they’re happening or before they occur.

The important thing here is that they don’t necessarily relate to the players. A lot of the loops resolve themselves without the players getting involved, and the world changes, and they may or may not notice. Sometimes they decide they have opinions about the world changing and do something to either hasten or stop the change.

It’s a trick I learned from reading Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series, which I still consider to be some of the finest longform worldbuilding out there. Over the course of the series, the Discworld changes significantly, and a lot of the changes have enormous repercussions, but aren’t necessarily traumatic. A lot of times, a game will only have one or two single, major events affecting the status quo, and those are the only things making any noticeable impact on the world. I prefer my games to feel like worlds in which the players are a part, but not the center of things (until they force themselves into center stage). Events and changes constantly occur, but aren’t necessarily directly threatening to the players. It lets my NPCs have lives and motivations outside of how they interact with the players that are more than just a prewritten text block, and can change over the course of the game without breaking things.

Above all, keep the world changing. Most of the games I’ve had that have petered out have done so largely because I finish a story arc and don’t have anything to follow it up with, and I haven’t made enough rolling changes to the world to introduce something new without it feeling contrived.

I get exposed to a lot of media, and I’m continually finding new stuff that I never thought I’d like, but turns out to be great. There’s very little that excites me like finding something awesome when I expected nothing at all, and a lot of it is because I have people very carefully introduce me to new stuff.

Very little turns me off of seeing something quicker than “OMG you HAVE to see/play/experience X, it’s about this and that and it’s totally up your alley and it’s AWESOME, you gotta watch it”. Possibly it’s me being obstinate, possibly it’s my desire to explore and find new things on my own getting in the way, but a lot of it is the weight of expectation that I must watch this thing and must love it. I’m familiar with a lot of media, and I see a lot of it from a lot of different people– it’s very, very rare that something grabs me enough to warrant capital letters.

Similarly, when I do gush about things, I tend to watch other people shut down– the same thing at work, I suspect. As a result, I try not to gush at people, unless I already know they’re into what I’m talking about or I already know it’s a lost cause and I just need to get the gushing out.

Instead, I try to curate my recommendations to people. There are a lot of things that I like that I don’t recommend to others unless directly asked, because I don’t really feel like people are likely to enjoy something just because I like it. I do keep an eye on a lot of media that I don’t personally consume, though, because other people I know might enjoy them. I’ve recommended games and TV shows that I’ve never played or seen to people.

The key, for me, is to keep mental notes of all the media I think someone would like, even if I’m not interested in it myself. It’s not just about picking things in the same genre, it’s about drilling down into the core and thinking about why someone likes the things they do and how some experience might meet that. When I suggest things, I bring that into the description– “if you liked Mark of the Ninja, you might like the new Assassin’s Creed: Chronicles game”.

As an example, I suspected Bel would really like Shadows of Mordor, despite his general disinterest in the Assassin’s Creed series, because it’s more about stabbing orcs and combat than the sneaky politics of AC. Very similar games, very similar styles and gameplay, but Shadows of Mordor hits the right buttons. I was right, Bel enjoyed SoM rather more than I did.

It’s not always perfect. I have to know what I’m recommending better than I sometimes do. I suggested Warmachine to Kodra at one point, because I felt like it was a highly strategic “deckbuilding” style of game with a heavy emphasis on synergy and building engines to move forward and accomplish goals. What I didn’t consider was that Kodra likes building engines that get the chance to work properly, and that Warmachine is a game about trying to build your own engine while stopping your opponent from building theirs– meaning most of the time (read: in games that aren’t one-sided) you don’t get to see your engine functioning as it ought to.

One of the other things I try to do is undersell things and stay vague unless asked about whatever I’m recommending. I usually say something like “oh, I heard about X, you might think it’s interesting” and leave any further research up to the person I’m talking to. There are some psychological reasons for this relating to mental investment, but it boils down to “if you’re not interested enough after the first sentence or two to do a quick search, you’re probably not going to be interested by me telling you more about it”. Underselling is also important for me– more “you might like this” and less “THIS IS AWESOME YOU HAVE TO SEE IT”. I try to use phrases like “it’s worth checking out” over “you should/need to see this” because I think of it more like setting something down on a table for later perusal than pushing something into someone’s hands.

Very rarely do I see someone gush about something and have someone else pick it up and have the same reaction. It happens, but it’s rare, and it’s often disappointing for the gusher. By reining it in, I find that people are a lot more likely to check out stuff I think they might like, especially if they don’t feel like I’m breathing down their necks about it. It’s also much less impactful when a friend tries something I love and hates it– I’m a lot more likely to get an honest discussion than a “um it was cool I guess” reaction if they don’t feel obligated to be excited about it just because I am.

My current recommendation is Hero Emblems. It’s an iOS puzzle RPG without microtransactions, just a one-time-purchase. If you like puzzle quest or similar bejeweled-alike RPGs, you might like it. The translation is hilariously awful, but the game is fun.

I really, really loved The Secret World for a long time. My close group and I blasted through that game together, loving every second as we worked our way up through the areas and got new, better skills. I’m still of the opinion that some of the best atmosphere and best storytelling (covering the entire spectrum of ways to tell a story) can be found in TSW.

I stopped playing in an abject, frothing ragequit. Today I’d like to talk about degenerative strategy.

When playing a game, especially a complex one, you make decisions. Broadly speaking, the decisions you make in the moment– where and when to move, when to attack, what spells to cast and when– those are tactics. The decisions you make in the planning phase– what movement abilities you’re using, what weapons you have equipped, what spells you have prepared– those are strategy. This is something of a simplification, but it’s not terribly inaccurate, either.

When I played TSW, I focused heavily on the Blood Magic healing tree, and was my party’s healer. Through most of the dungeons, I used blood magic to keep the group alive and continued investing in the tree. Thematically, it was a great choice, and one I enjoyed a lot. As we reached more and more difficult content, notably the hard-mode dungeons at the endgame, I found myself brutally struggling to keep up and keep everyone alive. It became stressful, and I started to get burned out.

At the same time, some of my group was starting to feel like their choices (particularly: to play melee) were getting unduly punished in the higher-end content. At one point, Kodra, having saved up some unused skill points, dumped a handful into the Claws healing tree, a different healing tree that I previously hadn’t touched, because it wasn’t really the theme I wanted.

Instantly, he was a better healer than I was. With less than a tenth of the investment I’d put into my strategy and no practice, he’d exceeded the capabilities I’d honed over my character’s entire progression. The choice for me became clear: play a Claws-based healer, or don’t heal. Blood Magic was simply not good enough. I took a third path: quit the game in disgust. I had invested a lot into the theme of the character, putting together a specific look and an entire concept based around being a blood mage. The endgame for TSW wasn’t worth sacrificing that to use a strategy I didn’t enjoy.

I refer to that as an example of a degenerative strategy. A degenerative strategy is a strategy that, for one reason or another, limits the effective choices you can make. You are either playing that strategy, a strategy that can directly counter that strategy, or you are losing. It’s degenerative if other choices exist, but are so far behind in effectiveness that they are no longer competitive options. As players discover the strategy, the viable options for the playerbase as a whole diminish; the strategic playing field degenerates into a small number of “correct” choices and a rather larger number of bad choices.

World of Warcraft’s old talent tree system created degenerative strategies. There was at least one “correct” build for every class, and even when there were multiple build options in a given class, the actual distribution of talent points in that build had an incredibly small amount of variance. If you were playing optimally, and had a build that allowed you to choose which set of talents you wanted, it was because you only needed to spend points in that tier and the actual distribution didn’t matter, generally because none of the talents were any good.

If there is a “right” way to play that excessively limits other options that appear on the surface to be viable, that is a sign of a degenerative strategy. If there is only one correct choice, there shouldn’t be a choice. It’s really important to note that this doesn’t mean that every choice you can make in a game has to be viable, if the game design itself isn’t trying to support that choice. As an example, in FFXIV, you cannot functionally form a group that lacks a tank, a healer, and some DPS in content that is relevant to you (if you far exceed the intended power level of the content, you can largely do whatever you like). This is a design choice, and it’s reinforced at every stage of the game. It’s not a degenerative strategy because the game doesn’t suggest that any other choices are intended or supported.

On the other hand, claw-based healing in TSW was a degenerative strategy, because it was so much better than the other healing trees that (at the time) there was no other viable option. As your understanding and skill at the game increased, and you sought to play as best you possibly could, you would have to move away from options like blood magic in order to play the more powerful, more effective, and thus more optimal claws build. Blood magic still *appeared* to be a supported option, but in practice it wasn’t effective and was, in essence, a “trap” build.

Game balance is a touchy thing, and is honestly not as relevant as people might expect. It’s less important that everything be equally balanced against one another and more important that degenerative strategies don’t exist. Certain games offer options that are very high-risk, high-reward, where a high degree of skill lets you outperform other options, but low-skill players will lag significantly behind less risky options. Perfectly optimal play would suggest that everyone should play the high-risk high-reward options, but in reality this isn’t that necessary, because balance is achieved through the demands of player skill.

When players get upset about game balance, it’s often paired with a claim that “everyone should just play X”, which is an implied suggestion that X is a degenerative strategy. Most of the time, this isn’t the case, but it’s very important that a game designer keep an eye out to see if a particular strategy is degenerative or not. It’s usually important to leave the strategy in place for a certain amount of time to see if it actually *is* degenerative– it takes time for the strategic geography of the game to degenerate, and a strategy with a functional, accessible counter is not degenerative.

In general, a good way to determine if a game is struggling with degenerative strategies is to look at how the game is played at the highest tiers of play– the most competitive, most optimal players– and see if there is a downward spread of those players’ choices to lower tiers of play over time; essentially, is the strategy causing degeneration in the game? If the highest tiers of players are making the same (small number) of choices out of a (much larger) selection, it’s a good indicator of a degenerative strategy.

Frost Mages, waaaaaaaay over to the left.

Fixing this problem is difficult. A direct nerf (reduction in power/effectiveness) of the degenerative strategy isn’t necessarily the way to go. If Claws had been nerfed to the functional level of Blood Magic, it would have been impossibly punishing to heal at the higher tiers of content in TSW. Sometimes, bringing the noncompetitive options up to par with the degenerative strategy evens the playing field and stabilizes the available strategies. Sometimes, introducing a new element to the game that shakes up the geography simply by existing can shake loose degenerative strategies and stabilize things.

One of the places I’ve seen this done very elegantly is in League of Legends. Oftentimes, a new champion will also bring other, older and less-used champions to the fore. The new champion may work very well with the older champions, or the older champions may be a strong counter to the new champion that is otherwise very powerful. The new champion may simply be very good at shutting down the existing dominant strategies, forcing new ones to be formed. It’s not a perfect process by any means, but it’s a very elegant one.

The main thing to remember is that fixing degenerative strategies is EXTREMELY difficult, and is a slow process. Discovering and refining a degenerative strategy takes time, and allowing it to take root and then watching to see if acceptable counter-strategies arise takes even more time. Since the changes required to fix the issue are generally not subtle, it’s important to be sure to collect enough information to correct it properly. Sometimes this is easy. Sometimes it is very, very hard. Games have rewritten their entire ruleset, sometimes multiple times, just to hammer out degenerative strategies.

I normally write these entries relatively late at night, as a way of processing my thoughts about each day, then schedule them to post early in the morning the following day.

Today, as a bit of a departure, I wanted to try writing a post in the afternoon, to see how it changed my outlook.

I’m a big fan of breaking from habit and trying different approaches to things, because I feel like it’s very easy to get into a rut and just do the same thing over and over again. I like to think that continually breaking the habits I fall into lets me reform them in ways that work better for me, and keeps me aware of the various mental loops I sometimes get stuck in.

It’s been suggested to me that my anti-habit mindset is indicative of discontent– that I try to change things because I’m not happy with how they are. I don’t necessarily think that’s wrong, and I think that analyzing my own habits as well as how and why they form lets me find out what I’m unhappy about and why.

I read the above book recently, and found the first section of it extremely interesting. It talks about how we form habits and how we can change them.

This blog itself is me attempting to rewire my own habits– I’m notoriously bad about doing anything on a daily basis (see above, about me being anti-habit), and I used the book’s concepts and suggestions to flip around my own habits so that I could start blogging five days a week.

It’s been an interesting ride thus far; I’ve blogged every day for about a month and I’ve found it relatively easy to do. I have missed some days, but I generally find I have something to say each day.

I will say that I don’t think I’ll be writing and posting at this time in the afternoon in future– my thoughts are scattered and I’m a little too distracted by the lovely day outside. Something about it being dark outside focuses me and helps me hone in on a topic, whereas I feel like this post is a little all over the place (certainly my mind is).

Late post today, sorry. I was up late diagnosing issues with the site, only to find out (around 4am my time, when Ash got up and helped out) I couldn’t actually do anything. Alas.

Searching for help in resolving a particular error was interesting, and paired with some other conversations I had earlier inspired today’s post. In searching for tips online, I had to filter through multiple pages giving tips like “repair the DB” and “try to resolve localhost”, without any indication whatsoever about what those actually mean. In my extremely-late-night mind fog, I was having trouble remembering how to do those things, and it got me thinking about how the language (and lack of details) was getting in my way.

A professor of mine once described jargon as “a shorthand language used to create haves and have-nots”, and separated it from professional shorthand while noting that the two look very similar. Jargon is useful when time-to-communicate is a valuable factor, but this is surprisingly rare. We’re in love with efficiency of communication, but I’ve commented before that we have a very reductive culture surrounding it, and I think that we often think we’re making communication faster and more efficient when what we’re actually doing is denying access to anyone who isn’t as in-the-loop as we are.

What I find interesting is what happens when two different types of jargon collide. I’ve spent a lot of time around highly technical people, and the idea of impenetrable technical jargon among engineers is pretty well known. What I’ve been discovering lately, as I delve deeper into business, is the jargon that exists in the business world, that’s every bit as complicated and detailed as the technical jargon.

If you’re reading this, you’re probably looking at the above image and alternately laughing or rolling your eyes. What’s really interesting to me is that every single one of these terms is functional, useful business shorthand that often gets used to exclude non-business types, in the exact same way technical jargon is. It’s used and misused in all of the same ways, and from the other side, the use of highly technical jargon gets the same not-always-so-gentle mockery as “business-speak” does.

What I wonder about is how the functionality of the two different types of jargon interact. One is operating on a (mostly) macro level, another is (mostly) operating on a micro level. An engineer can, after several minutes of someone being unable to process the language being used, just push their audience aside and say “look, let me just do it”. The same is not true in business, generally speaking– the jargon is used as shorthand for very large, slow processes and in many cases are more about applied psychology than technical skill– something that many people like to think they’re immune to and will resist as a matter of course if they see it in action.

One of the things I’ve been trying to do in my own communication is to be very precise with my choice of words, avoiding both technical and business jargon unless it’s precisely applicable and I know the person I’m talking to is aware of what I mean. It’s a surprisingly difficult thing to do, because the coded languages we use get very deeply ingrained.

I hope you’ll forgive me if I talk a bit about current events. I used to live in and around Baltimore, so seeing places I know and used to hang out at in the news is somewhat poignant. No pictures today, there is little I want to do less than look for context-appropriate images for this post.

I really, really wish Baltimore had been a surprise. I think the only uncertain thing is the specific location. The messaging has been around for, at the very least, about a year, since Ferguson, and it’s painfully apparent that lessons have not been learned. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about and evaluating my feelings on the series of situations, and honestly my takeaway is that they’re complicated. This isn’t a shock to me– it’s a whole bunch of people and people are complicated.

What bothers me is that the conversations that are bubbling up are following the same trends as before. They make an attempt to simplify the situation into a word, a phrase, a tweet, or a one-liner, paired with a single, still image if possible. We have evolved a communications culture that values pithy lines and simple, straightforward messages delivered precisely and at high speed, and in that we struggle with issues that aren’t so easily boiled down.

I’m also put in mind of this article, which I thought was excellent. In essence, it points out that we conflate “happy” with “good”, such that if something makes us happy, it must follow that that thing is good, and if something makes us unhappy, it must not be good.

Games put this in stark relief, even the most cursory look at games forums will make that apparent, but games have no monopoly on the concept. People like to think of *themselves* as good, and therefore if they’re happy, things must be good, because if things weren’t good, then they wouldn’t be happy. If someone else is unhappy, they must be doing something incorrectly. This filters down to every level. I’ve heard myself wondering what I’m doing wrong so as not to be happy, and becoming uncertain about my own life choices — my own “goodness” — as a result. When I’m happy, and someone points out that things are wrong, my immediate instinct is to rationalize them– I’m happy, so things must be okay, somehow. My mind will flail at any thread to find that rationalization. Similarly, if I’m not happy, but my situation is objectively “good”, I find myself trying to rationalize to myself why I should be happy. Happy = good, and it’s really deeply ingrained.

We see both things in Baltimore. The quick, not-whole-picture snippets that make for one-liners and tweets and one-word descriptions of feelings reduce the situation into rationalizable chunks. I’ve seen a lot of people post the same pictures, latching onto one image or another as support for their viewpoint. Others try to take a middle ground between the two. The reality is that there is a lot going on, and that there are human beings involved at every point. Human beings are incredibly complicated; there’s not some line of Good People and Evil People, or even Mostly Good or Mostly Evil. We like to think of ourselves as good, but we all do or contribute to terrible things… but the terrible things we do don’t wipe away the good we do, either.

Further complicating things is that we all have different worldviews– often not just a little bit, either. I think of couples where one person likes, say, nachos and the other doesn’t, and the delicate struggles and occasional arguments that arise from just that one little difference in worldview. At the point at which one person looks at a thing and fears for their life, and another person does not, that gap is immense, but importantly, those two vastly different worldviews are no less valid. It’s cliché at this point (but no less true) to say that everyone involved is a human being, but more importantly, I think, is understanding that different people see the world in often extremely different ways, with sometimes no overlap.

We understand that at some level when we think about people far away from us– “it’s so different there, of course they’d see the world differently”, but it’s a lot harder when they’re walking the same streets and going into the same stores and living apparently very similar lives to ours. I’ve been trying to clearly understand my own worldview, understand how and why I think and feel things the way I do, and try not to take it all for granted. I think that if I can manage to grok my own perspective and recognize it as my own personal one and not the default, I’ll be better equipped to understand other people’s, including ones that are totally different from mine.

Maybe once I can do that I can get closer to figuring out how we can collectively stop clashes like Ferguson, or Baltimore, or Gamergate.

This weekend I played in my first tournament in my new local scene, which was awesome and a great way to ring in the new edition of Infinity.

I’ve had some strong opinions about ITS listbuilding in the past (even wrote a tactica on it), as well as which factions/sectorials are competitive in the format. For my first ITS 2015 tournament, I wanted to intentionally break a number of my own rules, as well as bringing a sectorial that I’ve had some unkind things to say about in the past as far as ITS viability. New city, new season, new sectorial.

The tournament scenarios were Annihilation, Lifeblood, and Transmission Matrix, and I brought the Imperial Service. In N2, I felt like cheap, easy Kuang Shi wasn’t worth the lack of good specialists, expensive playmaking troops, and overall jankiness in listbuilding– vanilla YJ was more versatile and there was little reason to go for ISS. I also insisted on using models that I’d particularly disliked in N2, some of which are noticably different in N3– the Pheasant, the Crane, the Bao, and the Wu Ming.

Without further ado, my lists:

Imperial Service

Group 110 0 2

WÚ MÍNG HMG / Pistol, Knife. (2 | 39)

WÚ MÍNG Combi Rifle, Light Rocket Launcher / Pistol, Knife. (1 | 37)

WÚ MÍNG (Forward Observer) Boarding Shotgun / Pistol, Knife. (31)

WÚ MÍNG (Forward Observer) Boarding Shotgun / Pistol, Knife. (31)

WÚ MÍNG Boarding Shotgun + 1 TinBot B (Deflector L2) / Pistol, Knife. (0.5 | 33)

SUN TZE Lieutenant (Advanced Command) MULTI Rifle, 2 Nanopulsers, Flash Pulse / Pistol, Knife. (65)

KUANG SHI Chain Rifle / Pistol, Knife. (5)

KUANG SHI Chain Rifle / Pistol, Knife. (5)

NINJA Hacker (Assault Hacking Device) Combi Rifle / Pistol, Shock CCW, Knife. (0.5 | 40)

CELESTIAL GUARD (Kuang Shi Control Device) Combi Rifle + Light Smoke Grenade Launcher / Pistol, Knife. (0.5 |13)

Imperial Service

──────────────────────────────────────────────────

Group 110 0 1

IMPERIAL AGENT (Chain of Command, X Visor) Boarding Shotgun / Pistol, Monofilament CCW. (35)

CELESTIAL GUARD Combi Rifle / Pistol, Knife. (13)

CELESTIAL GUARD (Kuang Shi Control Device) Combi Rifle + Light Smoke Grenade Launcher / Pistol, Knife. (0.5 |13)

KUANG SHI Chain Rifle / Pistol, Knife. (5)

SOPHOTECT Combi Rifle, D-Charges / Pistol, Knife. (31)

YUDBOT Electric Pulse. (3)

HSIEN Lieutenant HMG, Nanopulser / Pistol, AP CCW. (2 | 61)

IMPERIAL AGENT Hacker (Assault Hacking Device) MULTI Rifle, 2 Nanopulsers / Pistol, DA CCW. (0.5 | 51)

BÀO TROOP MULTI Sniper Rifle / Pistol, Knife. (1.5 | 30)

BÀO TROOP MULTI Sniper Rifle / Pistol, Knife. (1.5 | 30)

BÀO TROOP (X Visor) Boarding Shotgun, Contender / Pistol, Knife. (28)

6 SWC | 300 Points

Open with Army 5

Bao, Crane, Pheasant, it’s everything I expected not to like. The Hsien HMG Lt was there because I tend to play very defensive, hidden Lts and I wanted to force myself to play something a bit more aggressive.

Neither list is more than 10 orders, and I was very light on the Kuang Shi. Both lists are focused on bringing things that only ISS can bring. Here’s how it went.

Game 1: Annihilation

My opponent was JSA, something that concerned me somewhat right away. I put a lot of stock in JSA as a competitive ITS faction, and a Keisotsu link can seriously threaten anything I had.

Furthermore, the table was a (fantastically gorgeous) cityscape, with multiple highly accessible levels and catwalks everywhere connecting things.

I pulled Telemetry (succeed at a Forward Observer roll) and Data Scan (use a Hacker to tag an enemy model) as my classified objectives, opt into the Wu Ming/Sun Tze list, and won the initiative roll, choosing to take first turn. My opponent took a slightly more advantageous side of the table with better sight lines and I deployed first.

I placed the Wu Ming link front and center, putting half the team on the bottom level and the LRL and one of the Observers up top, prone. Sun Tze went way off to one side, away from the bulk of my forces, with a Kuang Shi nearby to watch the approaches to him. The Celestial Guard went prone on top of a building, blocked by a much taller building, leaving plenty of space for her to drop smoke. I held back one of the Kuang Shi and my Ninja.

He deployed a full Keisotsu link on a rooftop, mostly prone, with a Missile Launcher pointed directly at my Wu Ming — problematic. He also dropped multiple extra Keisotsu, making it easy to refresh that link. More problematic. He also dropped a trio of Karakuri– unlinked but easily linkable. An engineer, sensor bot, EVO Repeater, and cheap repeaterbot all drop next, in hugely inaccessible locations. Rounding everything out was a Smart Missile bot. All told, it looked roughly like this:

Japanese Sectorial Army

Group 19 0 0

KEISOTSU Combi Rifle / Pistol, Knife. (9)

KEISOTSU Combi Rifle / Pistol, Knife. (9)

KEISOTSU (Forward Observer) Combi Rifle / Pistol, Knife. (10)

KEISOTSU (Forward Observer) Combi Rifle / Pistol, Knife. (10)

KEISOTSU Missile Launcher / Pistol, Knife. (1.5 | 14)

KEISOTSU Combi Rifle / Pistol, Knife. (9)

KARAKURI Combi Rifle, Chain Rifle, D.E.P. / Pistol, Knife. (35)

KARAKURI Mk12, Chain Rifle, D.E.P. / Pistol, Knife. (40)

KARAKURI Heavy Shotgun, Chain Rifle, D.E.P. / Pistol, Knife. (35)

Group 26 0 0

KEISOTSU Hacker (Hacking Device) Combi Rifle / Pistol, Knife. (0.5 | 17)

TOKUSETSU KOHEI Engineer Combi Rifle, D-Charges / Pistol, Knife. (14)

CHAĪYÌ Yaókòng Flash Pulse, Sniffer / Electric Pulse. (8)

WÈIBĪNG Yaókòng Combi Rifle, Sniffer / Electric Pulse. (16)

SON-BAE Yaókòng Smart Missile Launcher / Electric Pulse. (1.5 | 18)

PANGGULING (EVO Repeater) Electric Pulse. (0.5 | 13)

Imperial Service

Group 19 0 0

CELESTIAL GUARD MULTI Sniper Rifle / Pistol, Knife. (1.5 | 21)

CELESTIAL GUARD Boarding Shotgun / Pistol, Knife. (12)

CELESTIAL GUARD Boarding Shotgun / Pistol, Knife. (12)

CELESTIAL GUARD Hacker (Hacking Device) Combi Rifle / Pistol, Knife. (0.5 | 21)

CELESTIAL GUARD (Kuang Shi Control Device) Combi Rifle + Light Smoke Grenade Launcher / Pistol, Knife. (0.5 |13)

LÙ DUĀN Mk12, Heavy Flamethrower / Electric Pulse. (22)

RUI SHI Spitfire / Electric Pulse. (1 | 21)

SUN TZE Lieutenant (Advanced Command) MULTI Rifle, 2 Nanopulsers, Flash Pulse / Pistol, Knife. (65)

CELESTIAL GUARD Boarding Shotgun / Pistol, Knife. (12)

Morat Aggression Force

──────────────────────────────────────────────────

Group 19 1 5

MORAT Hacker (EI Hacking Device) Combi Rifle / Pistol, Knife. (0.5 | 22)

DĀTURAZI Combi Rifle + Smoke Light Grenade Launcher / Pistol, Shock CCW. (0.5 | 21)

DĀTURAZI Chain Rifle, Grenades, Smoke Grenades / Pistol, AP CCW. (14)

DĀTURAZI Chain Rifle, Grenades, Smoke Grenades / Pistol, AP CCW. (14)

DĀTURAZI Chain Rifle, Grenades, Smoke Grenades / Pistol, AP CCW. (14)

ZERAT Combi Rifle + Light Flamethrower, Antipersonnel Mines / Pistol, Knife. (21)

ZERAT Combi Rifle + Light Flamethrower, Antipersonnel Mines / Pistol, Knife. (21)

T-DRONE Smart Missile Launcher / Electric Pulse. (1.5 | 18)

GAKI AP CCW. (4)

RASYAT (Martial Arts L3) Boarding Shotgun, D-Charges, Zero-V Smoke Grenades / Pistol, DA CCW. (28)

Group 25 0 0

MORAT Hacker (EI Hacking Device) Combi Rifle / Pistol, Knife. (0.5 | 22)

RODOK HMG / Pistol, Knife. (1.5 | 27)

RODOK HMG / Pistol, Knife. (1.5 | 27)

RODOK Paramedic (MediKit) Boarding Shotgun, Antipersonnel Mines / Pistol, Knife. (21)

RODOK Lieutenant Combi Rifle, 2 Light Shotguns / Pistol, Knife. (26)

6 SWC | 300 Points

Open with Army 5

I don’t really know Morats very well, so I see two potential links, the Daturazi starting in a link, and a pretty widely divided order pool.

I deploy very carefully, securing one antenna with the two Celestial Guard and putting the Sophotect in position to claim the other. The Hsien and Crane are carefully positioned in the thin strip between the two hacking areas of the antennae. There’s a huge wall as part of a building along the halfway point, with the antenna just inside. My plan is to get my troops to contest that middle one, hold my two, and keep things clear.

Round 1:

My opponent’s Gaki moves up, as one does, and he moves his Daturazi forward to get better positioning. I can see one with a Bao sniper, so shoot and drop it through the dodge. Next, he swaps the link to the Rodoks and jumps one up to get into an HMG battle with my Bao link. The Bao stay frosty and drop the Rodok with a well-placed shot. The Rodok paramedic starts jumping, however, to revive the fallen Rodok, succeeds on the second try, and a second sniper-vs-HMG battle ensues. This time, the Bao hits twice and puts one of the Rodok HMGs down for good, straight to dead.

A Zerat moves forward to threaten the Sophotect, and I completely miss that I have a shot at her with the Bao sniper through a window. However, as she opens fire with the Zerat, the Sophotect manages to answer with a crit on an 8, dropping the Zerat quite effectively. My opponent goes to move in with the second Zerat, but this time I’m paying attention and he can’t safely move forward without taking sniper fire, so he hangs tight. A number of models reposition, but I can’t see any of them. He reforms the link with the Daturazi.

On my turn, the Kuang Shi moves forward, then a coordinated order with the Crane, Hsien, and Sophotect puts them all further up the board, with the Sophotect contesting an antenna. I’m not careful enough with the Hsien, and he gets immobilized. I carefully scoot the Crane up to get in range to Data Scan a Rodok through the wall and manage to succeed. He then moves to within 4″ of the antenna and is promptly hacked and immobilized. I swing around with the Kuang Shi and start chain rifling Rodoks. A few dodges are attempted, but I’m able to drop the combi Rodok, leaving the center antenna uncontested. I score two points in the first round..

Round 2:

My opponent swings the Gaki around towards the Kuang Shi, and I chain rifle it on the way in. It dodges, but the HMG Rodok is caught in the blast and goes down. The Paramedic Rodok brings up the Combi Rodok. At this point, the Rasyat drops in right behind the Sophotect. He can’t get to her without being seen by the sniper, so he drops Zero-V Smoke, but can’t put it in a position where he can threaten the Sophotect without getting shot at by a Bao or CG, so he hangs tight, repositioning to a corner where he can get cover. The Gaki melees the Kuang Shi, who manages to successfully dodge out of melee. He repositions to ensure antenna coverage. He also Spotlights my Crane and drops smart missiles on it, leaving it unconscious, and drops a mine with a Rodok.

On my turn, I get squirrelly. The Kuang Shi has to move towards the Gaki, triggering the mine, but this is okay, and he manages to chain rifle the Gaki and HMG Rodok along the way.The HMG Rodok finally dies for real, but the Gaki is okay. I bring a Bao with a boarding shotgun around to threaten the Rasyat, using a boarding shotgun and getting outsmoked. I take a long shot with the CG and put my own smoke down, blocking sight to a building entirely on my opponent’s half of the board. I then go nuts with my Sophotect, moving forward and shooting the Gaki, who explodes but catches no one. While moving along with her Yudbot, the Sophotect manages to reach the building, place and detonate a D-Charge, and get back, healing the Crane along the way and retaining cover against the Rasyat. The Hsien, no longer immobilized, moves up to within 4″ of the antennae and declares Reset to avoid being Hacked, but fails and is Immobilized again. At the end of my turn, I control three antennae to my opponent’s two, and score two more points.

Round 3:

My opponent brings both Rodok forward to contest the antenna, one of whom shoots the Sophotect, causing a wound. Having made a save, she fails Guts and hops the wall, keeping cover from the Rodoks but not the Rasyat. The Rasyat shoots her. Alas. Hackers Spotlight my BSG Bao, succeeding on the second try and dropping smart missiles on him until he is severely dead, breaking my link.

On my turn, I pull the Pheasant out and spend my entire order pool bringing him around to shoot the Rasyat in the back with a boarding shotgun, then moving forward to contest the antenna. Nothing else matters here, I just needed that last one. I’ll pause here to point out that this was a textbook case in which the Pheasant could actually have used his monofilament CCW, and I STILL DIDN’T because the shotgun was a better option.

With two 55+ point HI contesting the center antenna, the Rodoks can’t compete, and I take 3 antenna in the final turn, for a maximum score of 10.

Results and Thoughts:

ISS performed really well. I was running 10-order lists with bare minimum specialists– three in one list and effectively two in the second (the CoC Pheasant doesn’t really count, since he’s tied down by the Bao).

Bao are damn good. They serve little purpose other than a sniper link, but on the right table that’s all you need; they provide deadly AROs while the rest of your list does work. I don’t know what I would drop to get to a full, scary 5-man link, but I don’t think it’s that necessary. I wish there were more Bao profiles, though.

The Crane is a serious workhorse, as is the Sophotect. I already knew that about the Sophie, but the Crane is surprisingly badass, despite getting ignominiously blown away by a Celestial Guard.

Wu Ming give opponents fits. They can’t get close, because boarding shotguns, but I also have HMGs to scare you with. I don’t know if I think the LRL is worthwhile, but I definitely feel like the Tinbot isn’t. Breaker ammo just doesn’t impress.

Overall, I had a great time, taking away first place with a total score of 26 OPs and several really good games.