Mean Streak Contest

There are the few, the proud, the noble hearted within the galaxy. Those that choose the high road, the path less taken; those with a moral obligation to do what is right.

You aren’t one of them; at least not this week …

MEAN STREAK CONTEST

Starting now, until 12 AM EST Monday July 25th, your existence is all about finding and killing as many faction ships as you can. I’m not talking factional warfare; I’m talking faction ships.

Find them, kill them, post your killmail link in the comments below: win. Continue reading

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CCP/Roc’s Christmas Contest

Tis the season to be jolly … fa la la la, la la la la. Don we now our …. well, you know the rest.

It’s that time of year again, pilots, when we become more selfish and greedy than usual, all in the name of a festive spirit. Ah, the joy that is Christmas!

So the powers that be at CCP and myself got to thinking, “What is something that every Jovian fearing pod pilot would want for Christmas?” We wracked and wracked our brains over egg nog, rum, and Christmas cookies, until finally we realized the answer!!!

THE CONTEST:

I want you to tell the universe why you deserve to get into Fanfest for free. In a video. Publicly.

THE PRIZE:

Well, if it’s not evident yet, the prize is a FREE ticket into Fanfest (prize does not include airfare, accommodation, meals, gallente dancers or anything other than the ability to walk in the door at Fanfest for free).***

You will also receive a FREE pass to “Pub Crawl with the Devs”, a lavish tradition of Fanfest that will be all the better with you a part of it.

Finally, you will receive a $50 iTunes gift card (or Amazon if you’re an Apple hater) from me personally. Who knows? You may even use it to buy my three EVE Online related CDs: Bio, One Night of Roc, and Mendre!

Additionally, but not guaranteed, it is my hope that in the fine tradition of Roc ‘s Ramblings contests, my readers and the EVE community will donate prizes throughout the month for our winner.

*** If the winner is unable to attend Fanfest they will receive a $100 US Gift Card at the EVE Online store as their prize.

THE RULES:

  1. The CCP/Roc Christmas Contest will begin Dec 1, 2010, 9 AM EST and will finish Dec 31, 2010, 9 PM EST.
  2. All entries must be accompanied by the full real name of the contestant as well as their physical address, email address and phone number. Email roc@rocwieler.com for privacy reasons.
  3. Former and present employees of CCP or affiliates including contractors may not enter.
  4. Applicants may submit no more than one entry. If an entry needs to be updated only the most recent submission will be judged.
  5. Judging will be based on humour, creativity, effort and relevance to the contest. Entries that are obscene or against the spirit of the competition will be disqualified.
  6. Entries must be uploaded to a publicly accessible site for download like Rapidshare or EVE Files. Feel free to share your entry on YouTube but please provide access to a downloadable version.
  7. All entries become the property of CCP and may be used for promotional purposes.
  8. Submission of an entry for this contest constitutes acceptance of these rules and conditions.
  9. CCP reserves the right to change the final prize terms.
  10. The judge’s and CCP’s decision is final.

THE WINNER:

The winner will be announced in this spot on Jan 31st, 2011, at 9 PM after I’ve had a chance to thoroughly review all entries.

Roc’s Social Experiment Contest

The Fall Season is upon us. For some that means the return of their children to the school system. For others it means looking back at fond summer memories; new friends, new experiences. For others still it means three more months until the holiday festivities begin!

For me, it means the upcoming release of my new CD, Mendre, an original club genre effort, available on iTunes this October. It also means time to start promoting!

This time around, I thought I’d try something a little different, social marketing, with a contest.

THE CONTEST

To enter, follow me on Twitter by clicking HERE, then copy/paste the line below into your feed:

@RocWieler Roc’s Social Experiment Contest! Win a $50 iTunes Gift Card! Follow and RT to enter! http://twurl.nl/l81ikx

THE PRIZE

A $50 US (or equivalent value)  iTunes gift card.

THE RULES

You may only enter the contest once.

An active Twitter account is necessary to participate in this contest.

If you already follow Roc Wieler, simply retweet the contest message to enter.

This contest will run until Monday Sept 20th, 12 AM. One winner will be randomly selected from the entrant pool. The winner will be announced Monday Sept 20th. Good luck!

THE WINNER

As of 10 PM, EST, Monday June 20th, the winner of Roc’s Social Experiment Contest is @saramina. Send me an email and I will send your iTunes Gift Card code!

THE MUSIC

While you’re here, why not check out Roc’s existing music works?

BIO – Epic soundtrack inspired by the game Eve Online. CLICK HERE (available soon on iTunes)

ONE NIGHT OF ROC – A “live” rock concert, over one hour in length – CLICK HERE

MENDRE – coming soon to iTunes

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Roc that Caption #1

For all my anti-social behaviour, for all my sarcasm and disdain for humanity, I have an unwavering belief that there is good in all of us. For me, the problem with people as a whole is that selfishness is far easier, and often the instant gratification and path of least resistance; doing wrong requires nothing but laziness.

It’s only natural, after all; a river doesn’t flow uphill.

So before I get too preachy, let me reiterate; I’m all about community. I enjoy giving.

To that end, I’m going to try out a new hopeful contest series today called “Roc that Caption”. Nothing original or innovative in this at all, but I thought it could still be fun for us.

THE CONTEST:

Create a caption for the image below, posting your entry into the comments of this thread. A winner will be selected next Monday by me personally. Your caption may be funny, serious, mysterious, offensive, whatever you want it to be. There are no limitations to imagination after all. There is a limit of one entry per person however.

THE PRIZE:

The winner, selected by me, will be featured in their own story here on Roc’s Ramblings, written by me. I know, not much of a prize, but there are some that will hopefully appreciate it. I hope it doesn’t seem to be a prize of vanity, as it isn’t intended as such. I just always enjoy expanding my view of New Eden.

Also, one mystery faction frigate has been donated to this contest by @ievecoza on Twitter.

Tyrannis: Contest Winners

Well, the votes have been tallied, the stars added. Spammers have been disqualified for the good of all, and the results are in!

Again I want to thank everyone who took the time to submit an entry: it’s not easy being a writer!

GRAND PRIZE WINNER

Forgottenby SN1P3R001

Congratulations! This is an incredible piece of fiction masterfully crafted as evidenced by the overwhelming response from every reader! You’ve won yourself 2 BILLION ISK as well as a $75 gift certificate for the EVE ONLINE STORE! I’ll be contacting you by email shortly to arrange prize collection.

SECOND PRIZE WINNER

Memories by Casparian

Congratulations! Another wonderful piece of prose submitted for the contest! You’ve won yourself 1 BILLION ISK as well as a $50 gift certificate for the EVE ONLINE STORE! I’ll be contacting you by email shortly to arrange prize collection.

SPECIAL PRIZING

In addition to the winners above, the following three authors have been deemed winners for their outstanding efforts, compelling stories, and reader responses. Each of you has won $250 million isk and a $25 gift certificate for the EVE ONLINE STORE!

Zero Hour – by Kreigen

Death from Aboveby Jack Carrigan

They Shine by Ryan Darkwolf

Unannounced Bonus Prize

I always find it fun to offer extra, silly, vain surprises. To that end, even though I said I wouldn’t do it, I picked my personal favourite story. Congratulations! You’ve won yourself a signed poster of Roc Wieler based on the image I showed yesterday! I’ll be in touch with you via email soon about how to collect your prize.

The Fieldby Nomzi Nomnialli

There were a lot of wonderful stories, and there was no favouritism shown for the official prizing, but there was just something that stood about Nomzi’s story that really stuck with me.  Good work all around from everyone. Again, thank you for participating. I truly do appreciate it.

Well, that’s it for CCP/Roc’s Tyrannis contest! I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did, and I look forward to you sticking around, reading the blog, getting to know a little more about my life in New Eden.

Until then, fly safe.

Tyrannis: Contest Ended

The window for entering CCP’s/Roc’s Tyrannis Contest is now officially closed. All entries have been received and posted, including a final batch of last minute entries I received late last night.

On behalf of the wonderful people at CCP and myself, thank you for your incredible interest in this contest. I think it’s safe to say everyone has quite a bit of quality reading to do over the next while thanks to all of you.

I’ve learned a few things during this contest, about contest management, expectations, fairness, etc, etc.

One of those things I would like to share with you is the notion of “popularity contests”.

It bothered me when someone commented that this was merely nothing more than a popularity contest. Upon giving it some thought, and digging around, I discovered they were right, and a solution was needed. I mean, even though I’m no longer part of the Tribal Liberation Force, I’m still a man of honour and want to make sure the right thing is always done.

To that end, I consulted with PyjamaSam, the smartest guy I know. With his help, we came up with an equation that gave greater weight to the star rating than the number of users, as well as a diminishing return penalty based on how many days the entry had been posted, as older entries had more chance of getting votes than new entries. This morning, as I started tallying results, the equation seems solid. Entries from even the last day are successfully competing against entries from the first days.

Another item that concerned me greatly was spam. Here I simply need to thank WordPress for their wonderful tools. It was easy to identify which posts were getting spam, and when re-reading a few emails sent to me, plus some of the comments on certain entries, I was quick to disqualify the spamming entrants.

So, while I take the next little while to get everything in order, double check the results, and sit back and relax for the first time in 18 days, know that I appreciate everyone’s efforts and all the hard work that went into your submissions.

PS. Not sure if anyone noticed yet, but the blog is now pointing to http://www.rocwieler.com. This is all part of an initiative I am starting with the next issue of EON magazine. There has been a lot of change in my life lately, and I think that needs to be reflected.

Here’s a sneak peek of the upcoming ad, and HERE is a link to the desktop wallpaper version.

Tyrannis: The Poorly Made Man

– by Haav0c

“Please elder, tell the poorly-made man story again!”, the children cry. A man, with a smile on his face surrounded by wrinkles of age on all sides, leans back against the wall of the hut. “Fine, children, I will tell you the story of the poorly-made man”.

“It is the third day of the planting. The three moons, Alaha, Moroha, and Gleema shine high into the night sky, bathing the unsown fields with their blue

light as the tribe sows the morana seed.

Then, there is a light in the sky, like a new ancestor, shining over us. But, children, this light was not an ancestor. It grew, like the rising sun, but

fast, until the light came to rest outside the village.

The sowing forgotten, we creeped towards the light, like stalking the wild brunda, who roam the plains. What we find is no brunda. It is no ancestor either.

It was shaped like a man, only wrong, and blacker than night. The chest was not some tanned, taught expanse of brown skin, but a drum, big enough to hold a

man twice over. The legs were bulky, big blocky things, like the gods had spent little time sculpting legs that were meant to run like brunda or dance in the

firelight. The head was much the same, there were no eyes for seeing, no ears, no nose, just a ball, with holes in the front where the eyes should be.

The arms were much like the legs, and seemed horrible for the intricate weaving of morana baskets or throwing a spear, with the wrong number of fingers, only

three. They lay at his side, unused. Then, the sphere lit with light like the sun, and the ground around the black-as-night man lit like day, but only blue,

with bumps and mounds where we could all swear there were no clumps of grass.

Sees-the-horizon, with the best eyes among us, climbed a sturdy morica tree, whose fruit is small and tasteless, but is ideal for looking for herds of

brunda. He crept back down, and told us what he saw.

The blue light was not just a light, it was a map. Sees-the-horizon could see all of the land around us, the twin rivers, Sheka and Roanka, and all the land

between them. The rocks and caves we hide in, hidden to prying eyes, were clear as day on this magic.

Then, we watched as the ghostly blue caves vanished, and turned into a great block, with lights smaller than the smallest arrowhead on the side, in little

rows. Blue lines spread from the cave, across the rivers and trees, ending with more blue boxes and spreading to another. It was beautiful.

We left for the night, and talked with the elders, them as old then as I am now. They listened without speaking, and with little discussion told us to return to him in the morning with gifts.

Come morning, we returned, with stalks-the-herd’s second best spear, a necklace of brunda bones and a basket of morana seed.

The man still stood there, still black, with the blue picture on the ground, as beautiful as it was the night before. It was different, though. In the corner closest to us, we could see thin wavy lines, looking just as the rivers around our territory, with the blue lines and boxes still present. Lines went from our territory far away, a beautiful web, like a half-woven basket, and in front of the man a square, blocky shame spun and rotated, growing more detailed with every minute.

I was the one to walk to the man, not out of bravery but because no-one else would. The second my foot landed on the very edge of the blue web, the graceful spins of the object stopped like death had claimed it, and the black man moved for the first time, the head that was not a head turning towards me. I kept walking to spears distance, too far away for blows but close enough for a spear thrust, the distance all tribes hold their discussions in. The man did not react as I held the gifts out to him, nor when I laid them at his blocky feet and walk quietly backwards. The rest of the tribe, emboldened by my approach, stands with hands out to show we mean no harm. His head turns and the holes grow and shrink, making a sound like running a spear along the bark of the morika.

As I clear the edge of where the blue square is and stand with my tribe, the blue light shines again. There are no lines, no blocks, but there is red. The river is the boundary again, and I see red shapes that were not there before. We look closer, and each one is the shape of a man. Sees-the-horizon moves to my side to see better, and we all gasp as one of the red shapes moves to the other. The rivers shrink, and the red shapes lose their shapes, as the picture seems to grow bigger, while not changing size. The red shapes grow closer and merge into one as the image grows, but there are other red spots as well. I recognise the Harana tribe territory, who we exchange children with to prevent the broken-child curse, because it is surrounded by lakes, in my memories and in the picture.

The black misshapen man is still silent, but the map grows abruptly bigger, and the red dot of us merges with the red dot where the Harana tribe is, as other red dots appear, farther away than any of our tribe could hope to travel. The map suddenly stops its growing, and vanishes. The black man moves for the first time, with noises like ten spears against a tree, as the awkward legs move him away from us, leaving the gifts where he stood. He stops, outside of a spears throw, and stands there for the longest time.

We gather the gifts, and return to the elders. They are offended, as a refusal of a gift means a refusal of peace, meaning the black man means to fight us, to hunt in our territory and burn our morana fields. We wait until dark, gather spears and bola, and amass a party of twenty men, who softly run to where the black man was. Before they leave the village, though, there is a rush of flame and light. A blue light, pulsing like my chest, flies skyward.

No-one knows what happened. The black man is gone, but the ground where he stood is black as he was. It fades, in time, and no black men ever return. It was a great day for our tribe, as the best enemy is the one who is defeated without fighting.”