I've got one now. Go check it out, in case you haven't had enough of my crap here.

http://badartguy.tumblr.com/

Let's hear it for our friends from the Land of the Tzars, who, despite being heavily armed in a place both dangerous and barren, still find time to party in their own special way.

Otlichna.

Laid-back PC gamer LFG.

--Men of War
--Company of Heroes (Blitzkreig Mod)
--ARMA 2 (OA/BAF/PMC)
--HOI 3 (ICE)
--CIV V (Once multi's fixed)

Looking for a group of folks for laid-back pvp games, full of house rules (no rush matches, anyone?) and other fun-maximizing stuff. I know at least a few of you out there play at least one of these, so drop me a note.

I'm away on business for a few weeks. I'll be poking my head in and out, but the best way to get in touch with me is via SavageLycan.

--Stan

An interesting game, developed by an independent studio. I'm surprised we haven't heard more of this little blood-soaked gem.

Official Site: http://www.wolfire.com/lugaru

There's a sequel in the works which looks very interesting. I'm just happy to see independent game developers making games for the love of it all. It doesn't have big-budget graphics or over-the-top features, just good, smart game-play design and a very manageable price. Its worth a look.

Bad History Channel. Bad.

Somewhere along the line, the History Channel turned into a low-budget Discovery Channel, only without any kind of redeeming shows (Mythbusters? Shark Week?). Where History used to be about stuffy documentaries on the dietary habits of Italian housewives in the 1800's, its now show after show of human drama rivaling that of reality TV (and, from what I can glean from commercials, these shows are BECOMING "reality" TV).

Just now, on the Eastern Seaboard, a documentary on the Founding Fathers just gave way to a show called, no shit, "Swamp People". wat.

This is wholly unacceptable. My favorite channel for at least ten years is, as far as I'm concerned, on even level with Abraham Lincoln, Anne Frank, spoken Latin, and fingernails in degrees of death. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

More like late summer cleaning...

Corinth contributors! Some of us have drifted off to other projects. That's cool. Some of us don't want to do it anymore. That's cool. Whatever the reason, some of us aren't producing stuff anymore. That's cool. The problem is just that the handful of people still actively working aren't touching the half-completed projects for fear of ruining someone's unfinished work.

Long story short, if contributors don't contact me (Yes, me, Chilovek) in the next few days, I'm going to assume you're off to bigger and more fun things, and we'll take you off the roster. Your work will still be credited to you for a while, but this project is too dynamic for static efforts.

Get in touch, gents!

--C

Greetings, community.

There is increasing interest in contributing content to the Endeavor Sea project. As such, we've put in place some guidelines to help you, the aspiring writer/comic artist, to decide if writing/comic making in the Corinth setting is right for you.

Visit our forum's "Contributor Corner" to learn more about what we hold ourselves to.

We hold ourselves to high standards of writing (both for nation-building and for stories). We really wish to avoid having ten or fifteen clones of the same country. We really just want there to be tons of cool gory comics with guns and tanks. Written stories are cool, too, but whether you draw or write, technical skill is expected. For comic artists, an understanding of comic theory and composition is desired, and, for writers, a skill with syntax, plot development, and self-editing is sought. English not your best language? That's fine. It'd be nice to have English translations available (since it seems to be our common language), but feel free to produce stories and comics in any way you feel most comfortable.

For more info, feel free to seek me out.

--C

I feel I must make a public service announcement.

Avoid "Alpha Protocol," the latest release from BioWare.

Normally, I'm not a vocal video game critic, but I am afraid that many will be fooled by BioWare's stellar track record in the past (most notably the Baldur's Gate series, Mass Effect (1 & 2), Dragon Age) and the obviously well paid-off critics about the interwebs.

Avoid "Alpha Protocol."

Suffice to say that the design is so schizophrenic that, sadly, there are almost no redeeming gameplay qualities. The best parts of the game are the parts that lead up to playing the game. I will confirm that there is a rather interesting and robust game-play mechanic that revolves around reading reports and collecting intel from the chair of your safe-house computer, but executing your plans involves utilizing a horrifyingly outdated control scheme on a poorly designed game world against terribly programmed AI, all of which with pre-Alpha quality animation and design.

The first hint that this was a shitty game came when I attempted to move my character, and instead of a fluid Mass Effect esque animation of the character shifting his weight and turning his shoulders around, Thorton just snapped toward the direction and proceeded to take off at 15mph across the tiny hospital room the game begins in (c'mon, its BioWare. All games involve waking up somewhere). The second hint was that, not even by the end of the introduction sequence, I was flipping off the screen and saying "fuck this game". That exact moment, by the way, immediately followed an instance of the main character being fragged to death by five guards who threw grenades over their shoulders at me after a single missed shot from a silenced pistol. Had I hit the guard, nobody would have noticed, but because my bullet went into the geometry of the level, everyone immediately knew where I was hiding (behind a box).

Any review that doesn't noisily shout that this game is possibly one of the worst concoctions of code since Superman should be taken very lightly.

EDIT: A friend pointed out this review. Would have been nice to read this BEFORE we both went $45 in the hole.

**Destructoid Review**

I just counted. I officially have twice as many scraps as "finished" pieces. I'm pretty proud of that. Thought I'd share.

My John Marston is a serial killer. Its part of a game I've invented, a way of handicapping myself (and of bringing a little more depth to things). John goes about his adventures normally, but, once a day, every day, John must take a life. This is not an ordinary random killing. His victim must be a male, living in or near a town, and the killing must be conducted in a remote location. Typically, John lassos a stranger, ties them up, tosses them on the back of his horse, and high-tails it before the law can catch up. The killing itself is carried out very ritualistically. The first step is to find a flat, clear piece of terrain. John lays his victim down, shoots him in the knee, then unties him. The victim predictably takes flight. John then lassos the poor fellow, drags him back to the eventual murder site, then releases them several times. Finally, he re-ties the victim, then slits their throats on the ground using the massive knife on his waist (the same he uses to skin animals). Every once in a great while, a victim escapes because of the untimely intervention of a posse or some roaming wild animals, leaving witnesses to his crimes.The bounties he accrues this way can not be paid off as a rule of my game. Over time, his notoriety as a serial killer grows, and soon people take it upon themselves to hunt John down, and destroy the monster he's becoming.

I think today I'll step it up to two lives a day. His appetites are growing.

So what are the kinds of mini-games YOU play in your sandboxes?

Read: http://ipgd.freehostia.com/copypasta.html

Please spread the word. FA and other artist gathering sites will be greatly improved if we can encourage foundational knowledge in the visual arts before individual stylization. We are not going to pass judgement on specific styles, but rather encourage the proper direction of artistic development. Encourage those around you to create realistic art, even if they never post it.

As an art student, I can assure you that this article is absolutely true, and my experience has only reinforced this sentiment. I'm sure many of my fellow art students will openly share personal experiences, and most any novice artist can see the logic that is presented here and agree.

Your thoughts?

Contrary to how many "comics" are done here on FA, SHAKEDOWN is already written to completion. No, I will not change stuff because you think it looks better and because "ther is a anime book where the army guys r cool and they lok like this http://zinian.files.wordpress.com/2.....inroh.jpg";. I will not include your characters, as the story is already written out. I will not allow my characters or their likenesses to be used in non-canon works; I simply do not want confusion.

While I appreciate the interest, if you are that certain you have something worthwhile, I ask you to join us on the forums and to discuss your ideas with the other authors first.

Once again, the forum is found at http://endeavorsea.11.forumer.com/index.php.

Otherwise, go away.

There's a forum for all things Corinth and the Endeavor Sea.

http://endeavorsea.11.forumer.com/index.php

Go check it out. You'll find info' on different projects, as well as opportunities to join in on the action.

Let me tell you a little story.

There was once an old priest. He was a kindly old man to most people, but whenever he was in the presence of a homosexual, he would fly into a rage.

"Man should not lay with man!" he would condemn, waving his red-bound Bible and demanding that the sinners in his sight repent and rejoin His flock. "It is only in marriage that sex is allowable, and marriage between two men is impossible! God says it to be so!" This was how the man had been raised, and how his community saw the rest of the world.

One day, this old priest was traveling through a neighboring city when he saw two men holding hands and kissing as they walked down the street; clearly, they were a homosexual couple.

"Man should not lay with man!" he shouted, beginning his usual diatribe. "Leviticus 20:13 and Hebrews 13:4 demands that you two stop your sinful ways!" Startled, the two men stared at the priest for a moment, until one of them calmly asked,

"Why, Father, must we change our ways? What is so terrible about two people who love one another?"

"It is not right! It cannot be! It is against the very purpose of marriage to allow such a union to exist!"

"And what, then, Father, is the purpose of marriage, if not for two people in love to share a life together?"

"The purpose of marriage is to create new life! It says it in Genesis! There is no arguing with that. And since this marriage cannot produce children, it is a sin!"

"Oh," said the other man, disappointed. "Well, then, I guess I had better go have my sister divorce her husband." The priest looked at the man, puzzled. "You see, Father, she has a medical condition that has rendered her unable to have children. Her marriage is a sin." The priest was about to speak when the other gay man spoke up,

"Wait a moment," the man's boyfriend said cheerfully, "they can have a child in a test tube. In a laboratory!"

"Why, yes! Yes they can! The miracle of modern science!" The priest shook his head and waved his arms. He was ignored.

"That means that WE can have a child! There does not need to be a woman involved!" the gay man exclaims with mock excitement. The two men celebrate this revelation in front of the priest.

"If we can have children, then our marriage would be perfectly acceptable! Having a child born of a glass tube is what God intended!"

"Now, wait a moment, young men, wait one moment!" the priest shouted, having heard quite enough. "You two misguided souls are twisting my words! You are taking what I have said and gone and run amok! Your ideas are nothing close to what I was trying to say!"

The gay men glared at the priest, their patience for this old bigot finally expired. "Well, now you know how God must feel."

It's retarded.

I ran into (into, not over with a car, unfortunately) someone I knew from high school. She was valedictorian and distinguished graduate from my class. Straight A's, 4.0 and all that. She had recently come home for summer. I asked where she worked (not really caring, but wanting to measure how low she'd go for work), and her answer suggested she planned to stay there at her job for the winter. Knowing her school to be far away, thus ruling out a work-commute to school, I asked if she intended to return for her senior year. She replied that she will not return to school. Hmm.

She had failed out of college. She was not smart enough. Hmm. Interesting, says I, the student who solomnly vowed never to lift a finger outside of the 8-hour school day, who still passed with a 2.9, as opposed to Ms. Busybody who worked hours each night to complete every homework assignment, each task, perfectly as she could. She had no friends, no social life, not even a remarkable personality to speak of. She developed the skills to take a very simple assignment and complete it fully en mass. When the first assignment at college landed upon her desk requiring her to think, not regurgitate, it all went downhill.

Now, the kid who spent his high school days playing DnD and video games with friends is breezing through college with a 3.5, on his way to being put in charge of USAF spy satellites and nuclear missiles, so that in his evenings he can play more DnD and video games with his nerdy buddies. The girl who spent her days studying, working hard, eschewing life for pointless tasks and empty praise from teachers, will spend the rest of her life working hard and eschewing life for flipping burgers, manning a cash register, or some other degrading task for someone as "smart and hard working" as she.

That and she's fat now, whereas I am no longer. Oh, the irony.

For too long I have been silent.

I speak not to those here who simply draw for the sake of drawing. Those who are contesting for attention by how shocking or graphic they can make an image appear. I am speaking to those who create. You both know who you are, and I encourage the former to stop reading, and the latter to continue.

Art, more specifically, the ability to create art is not a gift. It is a skill. A talent. Like a perfect golf swing or remarkable penmanship, creating art takes discipline, hard work, and dedication to create. The mind is created able to imagine, able to see without seeing. It is the true fire passed down to us by Prometheus, and without a will and desire to tend to it, this fire dies, likely never to be re-ignited. This, then, is the fundamental difference; man with fire and man without.

Many shuffle past us, boring and without creativity. In their jealousy for the skill, they label it a "gift". It is well, according to this idiotic sociological habit, to call athlete's ability a "gift." An athlete is simply given the ability to travel swiftly, leap, duck, and brush off injury that would crush a lesser man. It is not the years of training, the strict adherence to nutritional regimens, and personal hardship that grants them their strength. No, it is a gift. As random as the roll of a die, and not at all borne of the individual's determination.

Have we not struggled to achieve what we have? How many of us spent childhoods locked away in our rooms, computer paper scattered across the room, pencils rolling about our desks, trying to draw a perfect hand? Sitting in the back of classroom, ignoring what should have been a "normal" childhood for the far more fascinating imaginings in our minds? The hours of missed notes lost in margin-doodles, the odd looks from our classmates as they peek onto our papers and catch a glimpse of our minds? What makes us different from an athlete, however, is that an athlete can begin his or her career at any point in their lives. Thankfully, the human body can withstand a tremendous amount of damage and still recover, making a healthy lifestyle achievable to all who wish it at any time. Creativity, however, must be protected and nurtured all of one's life. It can never be lost, or it will never return. One can learn the technical skills of painting, penciling, and inking, but the works will never again show the passion of a person truly in touch with the image being created.

The next time someone tries to tell you that your ability to draw, to write, to create is a gift, punch them in the face. Hard. Life is a gift, one we do not work for, one we cannot refuse. Everything else is a skill. We practice, we fail, we learn.

The lost among us will be offended by your sentiment, saying they were just trying to be nice and compliment you; but yield not. Correct them, stand firm, and get back to drawing.

Thus it is here, to the few whom illuminate themselves to the details of a fictitious world created by naught the imaginings of two likened minds soaked in modern mythology and driven to the corner of the internet for reasons only explainable as "ignorance" and "budgeting concerns".

First, it is to be said that this world is not dissimilar from our own. A quick glance reveals a great parallel between the fantastic and corporeal. Verily, it is up to personal opinion to the degree of this tangential direction, but there is little to perverse this idea. That is, of course, deriding the inclusion of what can be viewed as some sort of gestalt-literary inclusion of the unknown and misunderstood, to both audience and inhabitants of the aforementioned creation, within the world, much to the chagrin of realists for its very inclusion, and to fantasists for its rarity. "Magic" is such an incongruous word, but it may suffice for explaining the forces that drive the more extraordinary contraptions and mechanisms that exist.

The histories of the peoples involved in the world are best said to be "checkered." Gothic stories abound in a setting where there is little "good" or "evil" beyond "law" and "chaos" is concerned. Perception is reality to the inhabitants of this world, and perception is easily lost. Once again, I create a paradigm unlike our world, wherein knights once rode upon horseback before technological revolution rendered their efforts vain, and repeating firearms now dominate the known world. That is to say, to the common man's known world. There may yet be far corners of this world left untouched by progress, where technology is shunned as wicked wizardry, leaving in its place terrifying superstition and ignorance.

Upon the grinding stone of progress, there is a rift between mysticism and science, similar to ours today. Many feel that technology is the object of a new "religion", and such that society is, there is room in a person's life (or soul) for only one religion, regardless of the acceptable pantheon's size. Democratic systems are riddled with issues of faith, and wars are started as much for strategic resources and economic security as for abstract concepts such as "gods" and "divinity". Thus it is fitting now to speak of the known world's greatest violator of such an unspoken conflict, the House of Jerod.

Jerod was once a man, to say a Rat, who walked the southern shores of the Old Continent. The details of his life, and indeed his physical existance are the subject of division and squabble, but one thing is for certain, he taught that might makes right, and proved it. Within his lifetime in the days before history, he conquered most of the Old World, and remained its ruler by sheer will for decades. Upon his murder, his children (by then numbering in the hundreds) descended into petty wars over the territories, eventually extinguishing the empire abroad as the oppressed people rose in coup after coup. The only territory not to fall was the House itself, but only because it was the rats themselves' home, and there were none to take it from them but themselves. Such a pattern would repeat itself throughout history. While the times and names changed, the places remain the same. Leaders of Corinth gamble not on if there will be another Great Scourge, but when.

The nomenclature of date, A.W., refers to a year wherein the planet had no summer to speak of. Winter stretched through the entire planting and harvesting seasons for unknown reasons. "Modern" scientists claim it was the result of an asteroid strike on the distant side of the planet, plunging the world into a nuclear winter, while shamans and mystic clerics claim it was the punishment of the gods for allowing their societies to slip into hedonism and neglect of their divinely-manufactured duties.

Thus herein are the very basics, but important to understand. Of course, I purposefully misspeak as to create a dramatic point: we, the original authors, still need the help of others. We are looking for creative original stories to fill this world with the wonder of discovery and thrill of epic conflict. Whether a tale of ill-fortuned adventurers hacking and slashing their way out of an ancient ruin with sword, shield, and bow, or a blood duel between master snipers in the Lupinian Independance War, or even the revelation to the Old World of a brand new nation with its own sordid past and origin would be welcome. We want Corinth to be an "open" project, with lots of room for everyone to tell their stories. For more on what to expect, reference this site: http://www.kheper.net/topics/scifi/grading.html and expect the "realism level" to be "very hard".

So, seriously. No winged wolves with magical powers of fire.