Da Dominion: Home of DOMINIONCAST!

As of last week, California joins Massachusetts as a purple state - so blue it’s part red! - with it‘s legalization of gay marriage, civil unions, wedded wieners or tacos together - whatever you wanna call it. I applaud this civil rights milestone for their community as a minority ambassador of Black folks, Role-playing Gamers, and the ultra rare Black Role-playing Gamers.

Gamers have always been able to marry non-Gamers — when they roll a critical success on the romance chart, or settle for taking 10 to land a 5 rating– but there was a time when Blacks couldn’t marry outside our race. OK, Blacks couldn’t marry Whites … all right, actually, when Black men couldn’t marry the White women whom wanted them so badly. Tiger Woods was never in jeopardy of inexistence, but Barack Obama (the first presidential nominee to trigger spell check) was. With the audacity to hope, one of the dreams of his father came true: punani blanco.

When will the first presidential nominee with two gay parents come? Judging from the distance between the Emancipation Proclamation, which spontaneously created both the NFL and NBA, and now, we’re looking at 2153. The controversial issue to be debated: Android marriage. “Intercourse, not Interface!!” will be the war cry, in Spanish of course - you know catholics. We may have an openly gay President before that. Notice I say “openly“; what happens in log cabins has stayed in log cabins up to now.

I hope so, because personal preferences are just that: personal. I like oysters, you like sausage - no biggie. When they’re pushed on others is when the trouble happens, like trying to squeeze democracy in a place it doesn’t quite fit no matter how much oil is used.

I’m sitting here watching REAL reality TV about maybe the most fucked up job in the country. Peep shows jizz mopper? Man-on-man porn fluffer? OK, this IS better than those — with fringe benefits of cultural respect and romantic idealization: the Military. PBS recently finished a documentary miniseries called Carrier, which follows the lives of enlisted men and officers aboard the aircraft carrier USS Nimitz. Raised on Robotech and GI JOE, the latter I still think was a Republican-approved enlistment programming for the upcoming WWIII, this sounds pretty fuck’in cool. Sharp uniforms, honor and tradition, occasionally killing Zentraedi, sex with green-haired alien chicks - teh kewlnis right?

In reality, according to those living the life, it’s high school on the high seas. Still sound good? Sausage to honey bun ratio is 10:1 - I AIN’T talk’in breakfast - and if you do get landing strip clearance there’s career-crashing punishment for it at a Captain‘s Mast hearing. Do they actually tie you to the mast of the ship and paper cut your ass with pages advertising the career opportunities you’ll now miss out on before dousing the searing slits with salt water? YES!!!!1

No, not really. It is serious though, like landing a fighter on a rocking carrier deck at night before you run out of fuel - they could die doing routine shit! These kids handle bombs and are responsible for lives yet make a little more than the guy that supersizes your fries or the dudes that rap at the Taco Bell drive through. Even the Russians are start’in shit again. They didn’t even drop a single bomb in their deployment to Iraq - the carrier‘s sole function in the war; but many did miss the birth of kids, family tragedies, and had their pregnant girlfriends swept away by ex-boyfriends. Rough stuff, and many severely question the point of war - in darkened rooms with just the cameraman and safe from insubordination charges.

I really enjoyed this series with it’s the no spin bullshit and honest portrayal of the people on the lines in their own words and feelings. Having a military tradition in my family going from my great-grandfather in World War I to my brother soon to ship out to the gulf, I of course have nothing but respect for those serving. BUT, I’ll be damned if I’d gamble my ass for those draft-dodging punks in power.

I need two cups to heft the balls it takes to admit that I don’t watch sports in a city that adheres to it‘s athletic image hoping to eclipse it‘s bad rep … … … OK, I’m back. Had to own a jacker try’in to gank my monitor. Being a black dude, especially a big one with the build a slave master and NFL recruiter would‘ve drooled over in the day, doesn’t help. Our Detroit Red Wings just won the Stanley Cup again – hockey town? riiiiight — and having seen the trophy on display, I think if I squatted on it that would give enough lift and coverage - modesty aside.

“Did ya catch the game?” What game? What sport? Did WE win? Do WE get a check for it? No. Why should I care? Why‘d you ask? Fuck off, well-intentioned stranger. After this cascade of thoughts, I’ll usually answer, “Uh, no,” then get a look like a Hil-Dawg supporter eyeing Obama with frustrated resentment. Does this disinterest in sports make me a tea-sipping, over-cerebral, quasi-gay, intellectual elitist? Maybe, who the hell else uses “disinterest“ in a sentence?

I enjoyed playing sports when younger, although never being particular great at them. I was never a team star, but didn’t suck enough to be the last picked. Sorry armchair analysts, no deep-seated jock hate of the typical nerd in this case. The amazing skill and talent present is obvious and admirable - outside of baseball - but to my mind it’s no different than watching a painter paint or writer write with sweaty dudes (macho?). I realize that all teams and their stars have back stories akin the characters of a saga covering their careers, but not knowing those elements makes it’s just a demonstration of one set of immature buff millionaires versus another.

Boxing and Martial Arts I DO WATCH! These athletes really earn it, risking their careers and lives for my entertainment and only a relative bit of cash. To me, these exhibitions - purists say they aren’t really sports, may they be struck with flying Muai-Thai knees - are the essence of competition. A guy has you in a tight crucifix hold - not as soothing as this guy makes it look - you look into his face as your brain begins to slowly die and decide what it’s all worth: get out, tap out or go out. Those are stakes that I find compelling and interesting.

My heart don’t pump Gatorade, it pumps blood — and that’s what I expect from my sports.

New movies are out, new movies to be reviewed. Maybe you’ve seen them, maybe not. You need to know which are worth the price of GAS, putting a maybe unfair standard on recent flicks. Couldn‘t they lower the price of movies that don’t involve lots of vehicle chases? Right, why not have it rain Samuel Adams and snow ice cream (lactose-free) while we’re in this utopia?

Zohan was exactly what I was expecting from a couple of weeks ago. Israeli — not James Bond, but more like Spiderman — leaves the constant killing of the Mid-East community to come to American (say the C in that like you’re clearing phlegm) to become a wannabe Paul Mitchell. After finding his styles outdated from the eighties, the tactless honesty that only a foreigner would be excused of and other hilarious culture shock; he finds his groove, understanding of his former enemies and true love of … a PALESTINIAN.

The usual Sandler cast was pesent, even … him.  Educational: I didn’t know hackey sack was a Middle Eastern pastime — with bonus points for catching it in your ass crack? Outrageous: The Z’s idea of customer service is flirting with then super-heroically fucking the hell out of his over 60 land lady and clients. Besides Pam Grier, grandmothers are so ridiculous as gigolo-fare you’ve got to laugh to avoid puking. Moral: Jews and Arabs should get along cause white people cant tell y’all apart anyway.

To thwart evil developers, led by Vince McMahan, an ancient desert sonic attack is used to save the day. Very funny, with an unexpected political/social issue. Worth the gas, if you can get past the blatant Arabic/Semitic stereotyping and absolutely impossible Zohan fighting moves.

Super-fighting was a big boost of the latest Hulk over the last one. No dino-dogs and electric-Nolte, Tim Roth’s Blonsky evolves physically and obsessively to combat the green machine in a MAMMOTH beat down climax. I like that they gave Roth the room to develop. The fight progression was excellent with each battle getting harder and harder for the Hulk, with the Abomination nearly finishing old boy. His defeat — SPOILER: the Hulk doesn’t die in this one, SURPRISE! — also gives Banner a measure of the freedom he’s been seeking.

The first was based off the comic strongly, which I never read; but this version borrows from the Bill Bixby TV series — which most and I were glued to as a kids. Good choice by director Louis Leterrier (especially for a French dog?), also the Hulk itself was rendered less cartoony. Ed Norton I thought made a better Banner than Bana, like Bixby. Eric Bana doesn’t have the unassuming geeky-quality of Norton, which captures the poor doctor better. Liv Tyler, enough said. I did prefer Sam Elliot as General Ross, however. William Hurt was good, it’s just that we just saw him as the antagonist in Ironman. Plus, NO ONE does grizzled hard-ass like Elliot.

Hulk was worth the gas, jet fuel, or uranium rods in a nuclear sub’s reactor; whatever it takes to get to the theatre to see this superior sequel.

Remember that setting I made the ape amazons for? Remember my very first post, where I advise patience for those joining a new group. The campaign is now mine for the patience I showed, or sort of impatience actually.

Our first GM had to bail, Mike picked up the slack but the strain was showing in the game: bad rules calls, overly lethal encounters, depleted description in narration. From work, his three other campaigns, the price of gas and his long travel time, and maybe even the retrograde motion of mars; the toll has been on the poor guy. With assurances that Steve and myself would take turns running the game to lighten the burden on him, Jupiter has become my province to run.

The genre is planetary romance. Exploration, weird science, and exotic locales in pulp fashion with modern-like human protagonists in fish-out-of-water scenario: this defines our theme. The Iron Lords of Jupiter setting from Polyhedron magazine was the original inspiration, but I’m taking a slight different tack.

Jovian Chronicles: an original world of my own design with new species and wild settings. Iron Lords was essentially Iron-age Jupiter with some ray guns thrown in. I’m planning to advance things a bit to a Renaissance level of technology, a mix of old and advanced. The group digs fantasy, and though magic isn’t an asset of the genre hyper-advanced tech can appear that way. The medieval times transitioning into the Enlightenment from real history gives us this feels.

Hold your horses, though. Nature precedes and shapes civilization. First come the physical setting components. I’m keeping the sky glow, a luminescent cloud layer that substitutes for the sun, which is invisible beneath the ultra dense cloud cover and merely a bright speck even on the surface. This is sufficient to promote life, but not awesome. My idea is to have coruscating colors and variable brightness intensity in the phenomena. Think of it as an incredibly intense firestorm burning every element, called the Corusea - Core-uh-See-ah. Morning starts out blue; noon is yellow, with evening creating red that fades to magenta in an ultraviolet “night”. A full color cycle, Ryzma - from prism, takes 30 hours or a Jovian day. Patterns within the Corusea — like perceived shapes in clouds — are given spiritual significance akin to the constellations: The Vermillion Maiden of Regret, Golden Firebird of Victory, Azure Eye of Dawn‘s witness. Freaky yet familiar makes exotic.

The original setting features a solid landmass like earth with oceans and seas, different mainly only in coloration. Yet again, this seems kind of boring. A new player Dan told me about real life theories of ultra pure mercury compounds on the giant planet that would make valuable super-duper-superconductors. I like that idea, and it gives us the basis for a truly alien landscape. No oceans!

Continents and islands slowly float over an electrical maelstrom marking Jupiter’s inner atmosphere — the dark, lightning strobed Elemir (el-ah-MEAR), from electric mare or sea. Each range is composed of and sitting atop massive plates of Argen, a local name for the silvery red anti-grav mineral. Occasionally, these ranges collide to form larger landmasses with topography similar to that on earth with mountain ranges and valleys complete with fresh water from rain forming rivers and lakes - OH MY. Variable amounts of Argen in the landmasses affect the altitude of ranges. This gives us varied climates, with high fliers closer to the Corusea being equatorial equivalents - hot sticky jungles or blasted deserts - and low Elemir skimmers being frigid tundra and sub-artic plains. Earth in three dimensions.

With each range being it’s on isolated ecosystem this allows us have a ridiculous amount of biodiversity and a variety of civilization. Jovian sentient life abounds, with varying levels of civilization. Processed and energized Argen plates give lift, allowing ships to navigate the huge expanses between ranges like the sailing ships of old but with the handling of a helicopter.

I’ve got several concepts for species the Earthlings will encounter, but don’t want to give away too much as players visit the blog. You can count them being fleshed out here as the setting develops through game play, as the Jovian Chronicles are written into the history of this strange, fantastic world.