Category Archives: Roc’s Ramblings

Random spewings from the mouth of Roc Wieler

[OOC] Going Green, seeing red

Posted by Roc Wieler on

I’m all for being environmentally friendly.

My carbon footprint has been small since long before that fad phrase even existed. It’s not that I believe we need to save the planet; the polar opposite in fact. I think the earth was fine before we even existed, and it will heal itself and be fine long after we’ve managed to somehow wipe ourselves out. We should call our eco campaigns “Save the Humans” or something, as it really just is a vain and impotent effort to extend our flawed existence as a failing race.

But that isn’t the point of this rant. Today is about plastic bags.

Sure, plastic grocery bags are made from petroleum based products and are very bad for the environment, taking 450 – 1,000 years to breakdown, I get that.

But do you remember the days of paper bags and plastic bags that were recyclable?

We don’t even have that option anymore. Paper bags are 100% recyclable. Plastic is 99% recyclable. The problem of course is the laziness of people. 1% of 1 billion bags are actually recycled. That is a disgusting figure that just reinforces my earlier statement about us being a flawed and failing species.

But not even this is my point today.

Today is about being charged 5 cents per plastic bag. Really? You’re going to rant about something so obviously good for the environment?

Yes, yes I am.

I mean, before the days of environmental awareness being a catch phrase and plastered all over the media, companies still charged us for these bags. How do I figure? Easy, operating costs. Bags have always been factored into the final markup of a given product. The expense is always passed on to the consumer. It’s simple business logic. It’s the same as rent, wholesale purchasing costs, staffing costs, and everything else that factors into how much more we pay for products at the end of the day.

So riddle me this. Why is it now that if I go into a grocery store and I bring my own bag (which I will rant about in a minute), I don’t get a discount on the items I purchase to offset the hidden cost of the plastic bags I’m not using but are already factored into the cost of the item I am buying?

And why is it if I do need plastic bags, I am charged an additional 5 cents per bag on top of the hidden cost already incurred for them by the company?

The answer is surprisingly easy: it’s a cash grab, plain and simple.

While I let that roll around in the back of your head, let me talk about these new re-usable fabric bags that cost between $1 – $2 but are somehow marketed as good for the environment.

Did you know they are ZERO percent recyclable? Fact.

So what happens to these bags? Well, they certainly do last longer; that is the objective. In the short term, they produce less waste. But what happens 10 – 20 years from now when all those bags are torn with holes and no longer of use? They’ll start being dumped in our landfills.

But in typical “Think about the now” approach, this generation thinks it’s a good idea. Let our kids sort out our mess. Lovely. Let’s continue to ignore that greater symptoms of convulsive death and apply a band aid solution and hope it takes.

And again, with no alternative like paper bags, as consumers we’re pretty much screwed. I mean, I get dirty looks at the grocery store when I ask for plastic bags, or bring my own plastic bags. Oh how influenced by media we are. How dare he not purchase those fabric bags for $2 each, of which none of the proceeds go to helping the environment. The scoundrel!

But back to the cash grab, and why we shouldn’t stand for it.

I support charities monthly. I won’t tell you which ones, as that’s my business, but I donate my money, and my time, to causes I believe in and support, and encourage others to do the same for whatever stirs fire within them. Get involved. Make a difference.

Is that 5 cents per bag going into some government or private fund to help the environment? Nope. If you don’t believe me, Google it. Look up any grocery chain’s environmental statement to see what they are doing to help our environment.

All of them say the same generic bullshit about carbon footprints, offering fabric bags, reducing plastic bags, etc, etc. I came across only ONE grocery chain here in Canada that actually is using the money to research better packaging methods and alternatives with the money collected from grocery bags. Only one. Failing race.

So where is that money going then? Right back into company profits. They’ve already charged us for the bags in the price of the products we consume from them. They’re charging us again in the name of the environment. And yet, the money goes straight to the corporate coffers, padding the profit margins, and making the rich richer.

It makes me sick. It really does.

So I walk into a Subway restaurant the other day to order a sub. I like Subway. I’ve lost weight because of Subway. Their $5 footlong specials have also helped me maintain a decent budget for work lunches at times. Of course, they’ve increased the price of that deal to $5.49 now…

So I suck it up, figure it’s still a deal, though I won’t be eating there as much anymore, and head to the cash.

“Would you like a bag for that?” the clerk asks.

“Yes please, it’s to go.” I respond politely.

He charges me 5 cents for the bag. Have you seen a Subway bag? It’s about 1/6th the size of a grocery bag. It’s a thin, narrow sleeve that a footlong sub barely fits into, and he’s charging me 5 cents.

He doesn’t bat an eyelash about it. We’re so ingrained as a non-thinking, conforming society to just accept what we’re told, that it seems perfectly natural and reasonable to him to charge me for this pathetic excuse of a bag.

I cancelled the order and walked out. I won’t be going to Subway anymore. Don’t even get me started about the 25 cent Interac fee they introduced…

I just wish people would start thinking. That’s the crux of it. We’re fed fantastic marketing lines, and we blindly swallow it, like fish on a hook, but what good is it really accomplishing? I mean, what happens to the fish? Nothing good.

Is the earth going to be saved because of plastic bag initiatives? Are we even making a dent? And does it even matter at this point?

Look at the weather systems around the globe. Look at how the earth is already violently responding to what we’ve done to it.

It’s in the process of wiping us out, in self defence. We’re already doomed. We’re not going to make it, and we have only ourselves to blame.

It’s like I tell overweight people that want to get in shape, “You didn’t get overweight overnight, so it’s going to take you a while to change how your body looks. Don’t give up.”

Unfortunately, the same doesn’t apply for the environment. We’ve been destroying our beloved earth for hundreds of years now. It’s passed the point of repair. We’re prolonging the inevitable.

These are simple facts that anyone can find if they were just assed to look.

But nobody does.

We don’t want to accept reality. We want to live in our little bubbles of perception that leave us feeling comfortable and safe. It’s why we go to church to absolve our guilt. It’s why we help old ladies across the street. It’s why we shovel our neighbour’s driveway of snow in the winter.

We live in constant denial of who and what we are as human beings. We think ourselves superior in every way, and that nothing will end our reign of authority on this planet.

Well guess what, we already lost; we just haven’t accepted our extinction yet.

And no, I’m not being fatalistic. I’m quite a happy person, and as guilty as any.

After all, all this is coming from a guy that likes internet spaceships.

Rancer

Posted by Roc Wieler on

shuttleRun

JITA SYSTEM

“Caldari Shuttle DNS-321; shut down your drives and prepare to be boarded.” the State Protectorate Naval Officer repeated with hostility.

“This will be your last warning, Minmatar. We know who you are. Cease and desist immediately, or be destroyed.”

I had appropriated a Caldari shuttle for my journey to Jita. I had an underworld contact there, and figured if I played my cards right, I could slip insystem, spend a couple of days hacking computer systems with my colleague, then make a silent egress undetected. I had even falsified the shuttle’s transponder code, but to no avail.

I banked the shuttle hard, aligning to Jita IV – Moon IV – Caldari Nav Assembly Plant, the main market station of the galaxy.

The Caldari Faction Cruisers initiated a warp scramble, but they were too late. My Caldari shuttle was quick to align, and effortlessly made the jump to warp speed.

I knew they would be waiting for me at the other end of my warp tunnel, and already had made my decision on how to deal with the situation.

Aura reluctantly followed my mental commands, disabling the pod ejection safety protocols. Chances are I would end up becoming space dust, splattered across hundreds of light years, but if I angled it right, if my relative velocity was just so, and I managed to time my maneuvering thrusters with perfect timing…

I exited warp one hundred kilometers from the station. The Caldari State Protectorate was waiting. I quickly entered warp again, aligned to my safespot, and sped away again.

At 8 AU, I gave the mental command. Eject …

I felt the acceleration away from the ship, then my body repeatedly wracked with pain and vertigo as I was slammed around inside my pod by the sheer force of physics. I puked numerous times, almost a steady stream, gagging on the nutrient tube in my throat.

My vision blurred, I thought I was going to blackout. It was nigh impossible to even read my HUD, but I did.

Short bursts from my maneuvering thrusters successfully stopped my pod from spinning out of control, making it easier to get my bearings. A few more moments and I had managed to reduce my speed to real space.

I allowed myself a moment to shake off the effects of what I had just done. My ears rang; my brain felt rattled. I ached throughout every muscle and joint of my body, but I was alive, and if fortune favoured me once more that day, the State Protectorate would be closing in on an empty shuttle.

Pulling up my system diagnostics I quickly saw that my pod was intact enough to warp to the Assembly Plant. I gave the command, and was thankful when I was finally docked and out of my pod.

Docking control wouldn’t fire on a capsuleer’s pod, regardless of race or faction; a nice Concord caveat I had taken advantage of.

I let the hot decontamination shower clean the pod goo from my body. I was left naked and exposed. Ordinarily, it was a feeling I detested, being detached from my ships.

To command such magnificent, majestic ships able to destroy entire squads of lesser pilots was one of the greatest thrills a capsuleer could experience. It made one feel … big.

But right now, I needed to be small. I needed to be microscopic and disappear into the Jita ecosystem.

I heard some movement to my left, and quickly ducked behind some nearby supply crates, still dripping wet and nude.

“The carpet matches the drapes.” a slightly high pitched male voice said.

I relaxed. My contact had arrived.

I stood up from behind the crates, and threw a friendly wave towards my colleague, who in return smiled, and threw some utilitarian clothing at my feet.

I had arrived in Jita.

TWO DAYS LATER

I had learned all I felt I needed to for the upcoming operation. I could successfully hack level 4 computer systems with relative ease. We were both surprised how quickly I took to it.

I downplayed the whole neural imprinting aspect of the training, and simply lavished compliments to my colleague’s obvious teaching prowess.

So with that out of the way, I headed back to a public hangar I had rented under an alias, and took a long look at my newest ship, a Loki class tech 3 strategic cruiser I had christened Ridhe.

ridhe

She was a beautiful ship in every way. Modular, deadly, a reflection of myself, and not in an arrogant way. She was as personal to a pilot as a ship could get, and I knew she wouldn’t let me down.

The problem was I couldn’t limit myself to one fit, but had narrowed it down to two. I had the secondary fit loaded into the cargo hold, and prepped the ship for launch.

I checked my route to the nearest friendly system. Only one lowsec system along the path I had chosen, Rancer. No problem.

I should’ve hired a freighter pilot to carry my new prized ship back home. I should’ve circumvented any lowsec systems along my route. I should’ve calmed down, thought about the 2.4 billion isk I had just sunk into this ship and fittings, and not been so excitable.

Maybe then things would’ve turned out differently, but then again, maybe not.

I shot out of the Assembly Plant at full speed, and quickly aligned and warped, ignoring the protests of the State Protectorate, who were particularly keen on my capture or demise.

I made topspeed through every Caldari system I had to traverse, not so much as blinking until I was in safe space once again.

It was almost anti-climatic, I know, but not every event in my life was full of drama.

Next system, Rancer. Almost home.

I rematerialized in Rancer, Aura warning me of a pirate Broadsword off the bow of my ship. Immediately, I was under attack, but didn’t panic.

I wasn’t in the mood for a fight; I just wanted to get this ship safely home. Slowly, I turned towards the gate, overheating my afterburner, knowing I should be able to make the 15km easily in this armour tanked monster.

My warp drive was scrammed, but I wasn’t webbed. That was good.

A Rokh warped in, and opened fire. I frowned as my shields disappeared, but then smiled as my armour tank held.

A Megathron warped in, and I knew I was in trouble.

8km to the gate was when I made the single most expensive mistake of my career to date, though there were many more in the future.

I returned fire.

30 seconds later, I reached the gate, and was denied access to its capabilities due to my recent hostile activities. Immediately, I cursed myself for being so foolish, and cycled down my weapons systems, but it was too late.

In a vain attempt to buy precious seconds, I orbited the jump gate, overheating my repair systems, pouring capacitor batteries into them like crazy.

1 minute, 30 seconds later, I still couldn’t access the gate. From what I remembered of Concord protocol, cooldown times for aggression were calculated to 60 seconds. The gate should’ve been responding by then, unless it had been compromised in some way I was unaware of.

2 minutes, 12 seconds into the fight, the Ridhe had nothing more to give. The last bit of my armour buckled, and my hull disintegrated from around me.

In a blinding flash, my Loki was no more; her maiden voyage lasting all of 20 minutes.

A second blinding flash surprised me, and I woke up in Dal, disoriented, but knowing what had happened.

I cursed again for flying with a +5 implant set. When would I learn?

After routine medical and psychological examination protocol, and putting on a fresh set of clothing, I headed to my personal hangar, prepped a Rifter, and headed back to Aldrat.

At least I was ready for my mission.

RIDHE LOSS:

Destroyed:

4 x 220mm Vulcan AutoCannon II

1 x Invulnerability Field II

1 x Amarr Navy Energized Adaptive Nano Membrane

1 x 800mm Reinforced Steel Plates II

2 x Medium Trimark Armor Pump I

1 x Medium Ancillary Current Router I

1 x J5B Phased Prototype Warp Scrambler I

2 x 1600mm Reinforced Rolled Tungsten Plates I

1 x Republic Fleet Gyrostabilizer

1 x Hacking Skillbook (dammit!)

Dropped:

2 x 220mm Vulcan AutoCannon II

1 x Invulnerability Field II

1 x 10mn Afterburner II

1 x Amarr Navy Small Capacitor Booster

1 x Amarr Navy Energized Adaptive Nano Membrane

1 x Damage Control II

1 x 1600mm Reinforced Steel Plates II

2 x Vespa EC-600 drones

6 x Hornet EC-300 drones

1,622 Republic Fleet EMP M rounds

1 x X5 Prototype I Engine Envervator

1 x Codebreaker I

Poetic Therapy

Posted by Roc Wieler on

“You’ve been doing well I see.” she said to me as I laid on her couch.

In self reflection, I found it amazing how comfortable I had grown with this woman. I was perfectly fine reclined on her couch, open to her guidance and advice.

Remembering my views on women back then, it was quite remarkable. I was as chauvinistic and pigheaded as they came, as were most Brutors.

“Yeah, I got no complaints.” I said, still somewhat more dismissively than intended. My emotional walls were so quick, so instinctive. I didn’t even have to think about deflecting anything that made me uncomfortable to talk about; it just happened reactively. That was something that sorely needed my attention.

“I listened to your concert. It was very good, and must’ve taken a lot for you to get up on stage like that, especially in hostile enemy territory.” she continued.

I didn’t know whether she was referencing Jita as hostile, Caldari as hostile, or massive crowds of people as hostile, as they all bothered me equally.

“Yeah, it went better than I thought it would.” I replied without any particular interest. I snickered a little at myself, remembering one faux pas that occurred on stage, involving me tripping me over some wires and stumbling as I regained my balance; the audience laughter certainly was mortifying, but life went on.

“Still, you’ve been making great strides forward in your endeavour for self-improvement. You should feel good about yourself today.”

I had a hard time accepting compliments or praise. I was always suspicious of the sarcasm, and anticipated the punchline every time.

It wasn’t that I was self-deprecating; there were many things about my life I was proud of. It was more that I didn’t really require the approval of others. If you liked what I did or if you didn’t, it never really affected me directly, and I wouldn’t be changing who I was to accommodate you.

I suppose the fact that I had been undergoing therapy dictated otherwise, but I’d wager that was at least part of what made us such compelling and complex organisms.

“Well, thanks doc.” I said without a hint of sarcasm.

“Not at all, Colonel Wieler.” she replied.

The hairs on the nape of neck stood on end. There was something about her addressing me formally that gave me chills. Every time she had done this in our previous sessions resulted in something awkward and uncomfortable coming my way.

“I was thinking that we need to take your inner expressions to the next level.” she said.

Wait for it.

“Poetry recital.”

And there it was, like a kick to the groin.

“I believe it would be positively reinforcing to nurture this aspect of your persona. It will be healthy, cleansing.”

She seemed very satisfied with herself, probably fully aware of the new level of squirreliness she had incited in me.

There was no point in protesting, as much as my mind screamed at me to do so. She would contrive something even more embarassing as an alternative, and frankly I didn’t even want to entertain the notion as to what that might be.

“Poetry, eh?” I said, chewing on the words, wishing I could spit them out, along with the idea.

“Alright, doc. I’ll give it a try. You’re the shrink.” I said, trying to take a desperate jab at her in some way; some juvenile attempt at establishing my male dominance.

She didn’t bite at the bait.

“Yes I am, Colonel, and our hour is up. See you next week.”

Bah.

Iceland Press

Posted by Roc Wieler on

Was looking at my blog stats earlier today and noticed quite a few hits from an Icelandic website. After a little digging, and a little googling, it turns out to be a news review of Fanfest, and I’m mentioned in it. Very flattering.

I also managed to become very ill upon returning to Canada, one of my computer drive arrays failed (with no backup, d’oh!) and I lost my keys… but most of the drama has passed hopefully.

Look forward to me getting back in character soon.

ICELAND PRESSAN

Aftermath

Posted by Roc Wieler on

He uttered more obscenities under his breath, cursing the capsuleers anew. He spoke aloud to no one but himself, but that was fine with him; he had realized long ago that he was his own best company.

“It’s going to take me days to clean up this goddamned mess.” he grumbled to nobody.

He pushed his broom across the floor, sweeping up more of the garbage left behind. For four days they had come to his section of the assembly plant, and for four days they had drank their fool faces off.

Many of his colleagues had been bitter with envy that we has going to be so close to them, the eternal pod pilots of New Eden. The few “friends” he had demanded he get them autographs, or pictures, or anything from any of them.

He harumphed and moaned, regurgitating the same thing he had been saying for decades; there weren’t nothing special about capsuleers.

When he was young, he had served as a reserve in the Caldari infantry; that is, until he blew two of his own fingers off during a training exercise. They gave him a crap medal he had hocked years ago as thanks, and that was that.

Now had he been a capsuleer, they would’ve spent the money fixing him up. It’s not like the technology wasn’t there; he just wasn’t worth the money or the effort.

Nobody understood the capsuleers like he did. They weren’t some gods, worthy of adoration. No, they were spoiled sycophants, obsessed with nothing but themselves; not a one of them deserved immortality.

He piled up some more garbage near the trash receptacle.

For 38 years, he had whined to his wife about the injustice served to his life because of the capsuleers. Eventually, she had taken enough and left him, as had most of his other friends.

That suited him just fine; his life was better off without them anyway.

He lived alone, in small quarters on the station, taken to be an eccentric and bitter old man. He didn’t care what anyone thought of him. He didn’t care about anything.

He did his job, though even that was becoming tiresome lately, his body aching in ways it never used to. He knew he would never advance his life to where he had wanted it to be in his youth, but that wasn’t his fault. He had asked for raises over the years, only to be reminded that he could easily be replaced by a cleaning drone, and that he should be thankful they kept him at all.

He barely made enough to get by in all honesty.

He grumbled some more, cursing the capsuleers. There were legends surrounding their untold wealth, but like he had said to his “friends” so many times during poker night, not a one of them ever left a tip. In fact, he hadexperienced the distinct pleasure of empty booze bottles shoved in his face, half-eaten meals thrown at his feet, and worse, all the while enduring their insufferable attitude towards everyone not among their elite caste.

Quite simply, he hated everything about them.

Everyone dismissed him as a bitter old man, rife with jealousy of a life he would never have. Damn right he was bitter, and rightly so.

He continued sweeping with his push broom, his back starting to ache, cursing some more about how long it was going to take to clean up his section of the station.

One day they would know he was right. One day everyone would see the eggers for what they truly were; tyrants with the minds of children.

It made him scowl just thinking about them, and yet he could think of nothing else.

What was that? he thought to himself.

He stopped his sweeping for a moment, looking at the detrious he had collected. He squinted his eyes closely, trying to focus on what he had seen a moment before.

It was shiny.

He put the broom aside, squatting down by the pile of refuse, his joints cracking and popping loudly as he did so.

He began swiping away garbage, trying to dig through to reveal the shiny object he had seen.

His eyes opened wide as he finally cleared away enough trash to unveil his discovery; a single ISK chit.

He looked around quickly, even though he knew he was alone. He grabbed the ISK immediately, holding it up for closer inspection.

It was intact. Sunuvabitch!

He stood up quickly, despite the many protests of his body, leaving his broom discarded on the floor, and walked towards his quarters.

Let someone else deal with this shit, he thought to himself.

He would pack his meager belongings, and he would leave this hellhole. Maybe he would buy a condo on a nice vacation planet; maybe he would take that young stripper he visited regularly with him.

He would definitely get the latest prosthetic fingers, and that was a fact.

A whole new universe of possibilities had just opened up to him.

It didn’t matter what he would end up doing, or where, or whom with. What mattered was that he was now rich beyond his wildest dreams, the entire galaxy his plaything, and for the first time since the day he had married his ex-wife, he smiled.

Iceland 2009 – Final Entry

Posted by Roc Wieler on

Dust … beyond awesome! CCP … so much coolness. So … much … beer. Too … many … djs. Roxor!

2 cents per kilowatt for energy … need energy.

Miss … wife … love you. So … tired … hungover… iClone bought me drinks … incredible nice people … even Goons. Players … rock!

Black Lavender = Michael Williams … training to be UFC fighter. Kudos!

Ozzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!!

Mmmm … Shae …

Autographs … mind-blowing … charity … fun. Tall … sexy … Caldari.

Soon … blue lagoon … hahaha … rhyming.

Fanfest 2009 … the best time I won’t remember!

Fly safe.

Iceland 2009 – Entry #8b

Posted by Roc Wieler on

Hmmm, only a few moments before I have to go eat breakfast then over for the movie matinee… ohhh, good place to start!

INCARNA

No fancy walking in stations video this year. Instead, they opted to show a really nice cinematic of a pilot exiting his pod in a station, and his inner thoughts about the entire process.

It really reinforced the elitism that capsuleers feel, and how much better than the rest of the society they are convinced they are. No matter how arrogant any of us think we are ingame, we’re nowhere near the mark set by this CCP video.

ROCK BAND

Well, Sam and the Rockettes (see what he did there?) made their debut at Fanfest. We had good fun (aside from really annoying group of Goons in the back, GOD they are asshats when they get together as a herd, except Black Lavender, everyone loves Black Lavender) and placed 4th in the competition.

Somehow my sweater came off for the second song, and I was left standing in a muscle shirt, the deafening roar of the ladies present very distracting. Hmmm, looking back, it may have been laughter, but either way, *shrug.

WHATS NEXT FROM CCP?

Planetary Interaction. Saw some nice screenshots of this. Think orbital bombardment with planetary grid control of the surface. After that comes Incarna, then Dust 514, which I am totally excited about seeing more on today.

Also, CCP is currently around the 400 employee mark, and is actively looking to fill another 88 roles. So if you have any interest at all, check their website for details.

Overall, EVE Online is going to have an incredibly strong year.

RANDOM ROC

  • I got interviewed by Iceland Channel 2 News
  • Met Wollami from DOTLan
  • Met Serenity Steele (who is not the hot chick I thought she was!)
  • Met the iClone developer, then proceeded to ask him if he knew we were going to crush his application. He took it all in good fun (ha ha?)
  • Met a guy that has actually been using the EVE API and Cache Data to form an educational hypothesis and simulation generator for the spread of disease and virus outbreaks within New Eden using jumpgate travel data, population densities, etc, etc. It is the single most fascinating use of the API I’ve ever heard of. Very cool stuff my friend.
  • Went to that giant burger restaurant again with Chris and Tennille.
  • Found out the Sisters of EVE tour rocks. I can’t wait to bring my wife next year for this.
  • Shoved my way past a fat Amarr.
  • Oh, and this one is interesting… in fact…

NEW NPC AI ENVIRONMENT PITCH

So I got talking to one of the CCPers I am getting to know fairly well about an actual gaming mechanic I’ve been working on for about eight years. I won’t go into details here simply because he was REALLY interested, and said it was actually inline with something they were trying to accomplish and sounded like a viable solution to that issue.

How cool would that be if one of my ideas made into the game itself? Anyway, just wanted to say that if you see the factions starting to behave in a new and self-aware, goal driven way in the future, you read it here first.

Iceland 2009 – Entry #8

Posted by Roc Wieler on

“Capsuleer fucking rocks.” – CCP Oveur, Opening Ceremonies

Those three words, used together and independently, pretty much sum up Day 2 of Fanfest. Seriously.

My recollection of it all when trying to organize this post is failing. It’s all hitting me at once. There was just too much cool stuff.

So let’s start down this random journey as best we can.

COSMOS = NEW EDEN

COSMOS was apparently the codename for the project, which is now officially known as “New Eden”, as New Eden is the place where all players converge, ingame and out; we are making them a part of our universe.

Personally, and even though I now know some CCPers read my blog, I found both many positives in their strategy, as well as a few negatives, and you all know me, I won’t hold back.

THE GOOD

The overall framework and initiative on CCP’s part is brilliant, cutting edge, and really will infuse a lot of positives into the EVE Online universe. From a mobile strategy, to hosting corporate and alliance blogs, forums, killboards and more on their own secured, controlled servers, there will be a plethora of sanctioned tools to help every player leverage the EVE Online experience to the max.

Well done.

THE BAD

As I said, it is an initiative and a framework. To me, and again this is just my opinion, it almost seemed as though while CCP knew the direction they want to head with the game and the business development, their not entirely sure how to get there.

This could be under the good, as their not just pre-emptively saying “This is what we’re going to do.” and then head down a path of inexperience and bad decision making.

The reason I put it under the bad is simply because with all the hype surrounding COSMOS, I honestly thought it would be a bit more fleshed out, ready for the world to see. It’s not.

PLANETS

My jaw hung open for a good five minutes after see night side city lights on planets, as well as moving storm systems, then seeing gas giants with bands that also contained storm systems and movements within them.

Add to that atmospheres, multiple layers of shaders, two mixed normal maps, colour tints, cloud control, impact hits from the big ships, craters, ocean depths, sunlight reacting shadows on all of it, procedurally generated algorithms to create unique textures for each of the 50,000 planets in EVE, as well as the 240,000 moons PLUS the unique textures for each of the prime faction planets… phew, that was one long sentence.

Utterly breath-taking.

CALDARI MODELS

Two male and two female Caldari were dressed in fully authentic Caldari uniform. They were very militant, and far better looking than any Caldari I’ve ever met, but were actually fun to see.

I want to comment here.

One of the Caldari women was easily 6’3″ (and reminded me of Mynxee oddly), BEFORE putting on heels or having high hair. She was simply an amazonian goddess in the most flattering sense of the phrase… they got Roc autographs of course.

EVE API

I found this to be a most interesting round table discussion, both from the CCP developer side as well as the third-party app developers side. Really it was a flurry of note-taking on CCP’s part, as every developer present had plenty to contribute, and CCP calmly and professionally took it all in, and renewed their commitment to giving the API more love, stability, and power to meet the needs of app developers. Good times.

Bah, my laptop battery says 10%. I gotta go.

One more item of interest before I go.

Oveur likes horses. Sexually.

That is all.

Iceland 2009 – Entry #7

Posted by Roc Wieler on

9:30 AM – FANFEST – DAY 1

It’s actually a beautiful day today in Iceland. The sun isn’t shining, but it isn’t particularly cold. The wind shifted, however, and the smell of sulfur is brutally strong. I almost want to gag.

Met a few fans of the Capsuleer app while standing in line with Chris (it ended up being a trend throughout the rest of the day, which is flattering), shared a derogatory laugh at the expense of some poor Player Volunteer (“So that would be a no then”), and got a few stares as I was decked out in full Tribal Liberation Force Combat Pilot gear, right down to real, burn polished combat boots.

Upon entering Jita IV – Moon 4 – Caldari Navy Assembly Plant, I quickly experienced what it’s like firsthand to be a Minmatar, that is to say, I was completely blind. The Fanfest locale was dimly lit for that dark, scifi, Eve type of feel, which was fantastic, but how the hell does a Brutor see in that light?

On the one hand, I didn’t want to break character, as Roc never takes his shades off. On the other hand, I nearly walked into three people within minutes of being there. Practicality versus immersion was a battle I fought all day long, particularly thanks to Shae, whom reminded me of my character at the most inopportune times, usually right when we were entering the darkest areas of the station.

I met Chris from Battleclinic, whom I recently did some 3D animation work for, and the end result turned out fantastically, and will be hitting their website next weekend.

It’s basically a tutorial video series on Amarr frigates. There is a small “picture in picture” display featuring an Amarr female narrating the various video pieces. I did the animation and voice synchronization for that.

Yeah, I know, I know, had I known it was for the Amarr originally, I would’ve told him where to stick it also… but, I did manage to get him to agree to a pretty nice deal.

The next series will be for Minmatar frigates, and the narrator will be none other than Matar Colonel Roc Wieler. I get to do the voiceover work and the animation. In return, my name will be printed under the caption, and be featured on Battleclinic, which receives about 2.5 million hits per month. Pretty cool if you ask me.

Shortly thereafter, one of the CCP devs I met the other day grabbed my attention, took an autographed picture, and introduced me to more of the CCP team. I just want to note how incredibly head trippy it was today as pretty much every CCPer I met today was happy to meet me, partly because of Capsuleer, partly because of my blog, a few even knew my music, but all were ecstatic about the autographed picture. The word “epic” was thrown around a few times.

Speaking of autographs, Shae got a very “special” message on her picture. I’m sure she’ll share it with you all when she’s ready.

I attended some fantastic fiction writing and content sessions today, as well as other informative sessions on Factional Warfare, ship design, and more.

The day finished off with a bit of a surprise.

OmberZombie had arranged a “Celebrity Deathmatch” between him and I in the PVP Tournament area… lovely.

Fortunately by that time in the day, the tournament had just finished, and the crowd had thinned.

We were given All Level 5 Skill characters, and T1 frigates with T1 equipment to fit them with.

The fight went on, and on, and on, and on, in my favour. Sadly, I just couldn’t kill him. How does anyone actually fly T1 fits? It was nearly ridiculous.

The judges had to call it, using the crowd opinion to declare a winner, and I’m happy to say that yours truly, Roc Wieler, am still the undefeated celebrity blogging, T1 fit flying champion?

Meh. It was all in good fun.

Chris and I did some walking around downtown, then headed over to Sweet Chili for dinner (that place with the giant burgers).

The meal was still good, but something smelled in the restaurant. I couldn’t figure out what the stench was until I finally noticed a large group of Goonswarm TShirts.

That explained everything.

Chris and I finished up our meals, then headed out, making sure to yell loudly before we went “Goons suck!” How could we resist?

I ran into some bank card trouble too… like I needed that. Knowing my bank, and their overzealous security program, my card was probably locked the first time I used in Iceland for possible fraud. I mean really, who would go to Iceland, right?

So now I’m going to finish my blog, open roaming charges on my phone, and spend about $30 – $40 on hold, waiting for my bank, simply to tell them they’re idiots, and to stop doing this to me every time I travel. It’s just embarassing after a while.

Did I mention the two Amarr in robes that tried to trash talk me today? It wasn’t their cheap robes that let me know they were Amarr; it was the fact they were both obese and carried themselves with a sense of entitlement. The only threat they presented was to the food supply, so better luck next time fellas.

Anyway, got to go deal with this. Tomorrow promises to be even more interesting.

Roc out.

One Night of Roc – Sold Out Concert

Posted by Roc Wieler on

rocwieler1We’ve been waiting a long time for this, but the wait is finally over.

For those of you unable to attend the soldout concert in Otro Gariushi Stadium on Jita IV to over 20,000 fans, I have good news.

The concert recording of One Night of Roc is now available in iTunes for $9.99 !

Over 60 minutes of Minmatar Rock performed by Roc Wieler, The TLF Marching Band, and a very special “surprise” guest!

It was a helluva time in Jita, and I’d like to think everyone enjoyed themselves thoroughly; I know we did.

Special thanks to the overwhelming number who attended, making this such a hugely successful event!

BUY ONE NIGHT OF ROC NOW