VladPiranha

We could organize into age groups. That would be interesting.

The trouble with our server is simply a matter of getting the wrong kind of attention. Three years ago, GC's 10 vs 10 was the best kept secret on the L4D2 server list. Now that all of the official servers are gone, there are no other servers for trolls and griefers to hold hostage. We get everyone from the seasoned pros to the lowly Steam Sale newbies. It's hard to build a specific type of community when we get flooded with a bit of everything, whereas up to this point, we were approached by a particular kind of player who was a bit more in tune with the eccentric nature of our established player base. All of these changes just take patience and I know many of our seasoned pros, like myself, feel like they've seen all there is to see. Then again, I did play a game with Lookback tonight for the first time in ages. Not only was it like the 'good old days' , victory hinged on the skill of the survivor's cooperation, rather than the infected's offensive capabilities, which is a departure from what I usually see. Our 10 vs 10 server isn't dry yet. There's plenty of spectacle yet to be had, especially for our new guys. I'll be around from time to time to see how the new blood stacks up. Those meatsacks aren't going to puke on themselves, after all.

What we really need is a server where the only infected is a jockey that explodes like a boomer when killed.

The thing is that multiple boomers really aren't terribly efficient. Two during a tank fight might be helpful, but the rest of the time they'll simply steal points from one another, making it less likely for either to buy a tank, so the worst-case scenario of constant infections during one of those battles would probably be very, very rare. The probability of an infection is 1% right now, if I'm not mistaken. Consider that it takes 23 boomed survivors to get to 50+ points (relying on the Stomach Acid achievement for +5 and ignoring assistance points) and buy a tank. You're looking at less than a one in four chance of there even being an infection before the first purchased tank. Even if someone were to boom fifty targets, which is damn near impossible unless the other team is doomed anyway, you're looking at pretty paltry numbers for infections. I'm thinking something around 2.5% to 3% might be the sweet spot for an purchasable upgrade. Enough to be a nuisance, but not so much that it cripples the other team. In a perfect world, we'd have some sort of upgrade where the time survivors spend blinded would be drastically reduced, but the infection rate would shoot up.

Wow, you even included a threshold for when a hopeless dash for points becomes necessary. Even I would have forgotten about those scenarios.

Honestly, I wish we could buy an upgrade to increase the likelihood of a boomer infection. That would be a good use of 20 points.

After a hearty argument over Steam chat tonight about my utter indifference to The Force Awakens, I've been left thinking about why I can't stand Star Wars anymore. Don't misunderstand me - once upon a time, I loved the original trilogy the same as anyone else (possibly more). I'm not a hipster who hates everything that's popular. I went to midnight showing for the prequel trilogy and played countless game based upon the series. I was even into a trading card game back in the day. I used to think that I couldn't get enough of Star Wars. Let's just say that the past decade has been really surprising to me in that respect. Do you know anyone who says that white is their favorite color? I have yet to meet such a person personally. In a world of reds and blues, white is taken for granted simply because it's absolutely everywhere and lacks all personality as a result. It makes for nice clothing and is a solid choice of hue for your new sedan, but gets little serious attention because it's the color of empty walls and blank sheets of paper. There's a reason why soft and easily ignored ambient sound is referred to as white noise. Our culture has no respect for the color white. It's hard to love something that you've been conditioned to be bored with. This is how I view Star Wars now. It wasn't always this way. When I was a kid, I was leery of what I like to call 'Star Wars culture'. I didn't quite 'get' science fiction yet and the constant buzz about those movies made me all the more frustrated with that fact. It wasn't until Shadows of the Empire on the Nintendo 64 sneaked its way into my console as a great game and not specifically as a Star Wars property that I gave the Trilogy a chance. It was a gateway drug. I discovered, to my surprise, that they were worth the attention. I had been on the outside looking in all those years prior. Imaginative and different, yet also approachable, I could see why people hadn't let Star Wars fade away. Just like John Wayne and the Beatles, it had a seemingly unassailable place in pop culture. I wore Star Wars logo shirts before they were kitchy and did so completely without irony. It was true love. When someone would question my fashion choices, I pointed out that the Star Wars Trilogy was an important part of Americana, like Gone with the Wind or the New York Yankees, and that they didn't need to like it to understand its merits to see how the films had another kind of value. It was a sincere explanation that I got some good mileage out of. The summer of 1997 was a good one. I was fifteen and making up for lost time. I dove in headfirst. I didn't come up for air for a long time. Starting in 1999, it was comforting to know that, at least for the next half decade, there would be plenty of Star Wars to keep me happy. Six years was a long time at seventeen years old. My anticipation for The Phantom Menace was almost sickening. I don't think I had ever had that much trouble waiting for a film before that point and I seriously doubt I'll ever get that kind of rush-downstairs-and-tear-open-Christmas-presents feeling from a film premiere ever again. It wasn't what I'd hoped for. We all know in retrospect that The Phantom Menace was a pretty abominable case of filmmaking and stands as one of the most controverial sequels ever made. I refused to acknowlege that at the time in spite of my unease (your gut can never be fooled). It was Star Wars - how could I possibly bring myself to be hostile to it? I would be taught how over the next decade. There's an old saying that "absence makes the heart grow fonder". I prefer the cynical brevity of "familiarity breeds contempt". Either way, it's human nature to overwhelm ourselves with anything we find pleasurable. In spite of our acute ability to reason, we're not so different from goldfish in that respect, which is pretty depressing. Just like eating an entire package of Oreos in one sitting, there are unfortunate consequences for that impulse. Music gets overplayed, TV dramas get reduced to car chases to fill time, and films lose the novelty that makes them special in the first place. As I'd mentioned before, I loved how Star Wars represented something unique in film history. A written list of ways in which those movies changed films and pop culture at large would be lengthy, no one can deny that. What bothers me and has eaten away at my fondness for the franchise is that its runaway success makes it harder to see Star Wars as a story beloved to millions and easier to see as a brand no different from Apple or Reebok. Overexposure has taken the novelty away. I never thought I'd see the day when Darth Vader would become more irritatingly ubiquitous than Elmo. References to The Empire Strikes Back once felt unexpected, clever, and reminded us of a film we all seem to cherish. We're no longer geeks in on a joke, but an exploitable audience being pandered to. Now every time I see comic personality repeat material from A New Hope, it feels like a speech at a political rally. No new taxes. Take our country back. Our children are the future. Use the force, Luke. We brought this on ourselves. It may sound odd that the film I'm most excited for this year is Spectre. You would think, after all of my arguments above, I'd have no interest in the twenty-fourth(!) James Bond film. On the contrary, Bond is something I look forward to because, while he's a pop culture icon as well, he comes along every three or four years or so and reminds of why he matters to us - nothing more and nothing less. He doesn't fill toy aisles, cover lunchboxes, inspire parodies, adorn clothing, decorate wrapping paper, and spawn television series the way Jedi do. Bond was always about serial entertainment for profit and there was always a sense that he'd be back. Hell, the credits of the classic movies always told us so. Star Wars was timeless and perfect as a trilogy and seemed to embody what one could create if quality, and not quantity, was the passion. A mere three films had more impact on pop culture than a half century of comic books. I always found that notion fascinating and that's probably what makes it so easy to idealize some escapist fantasy films. The Force Awakens is launching this Christmas season. That's all good and well for those who care. It'll make many people happy and make a ton of money. For some very vocal people, it's almost a spiritual experience. For me, it's like another season of Dancing with the Stars. I once again am unnerved by the ravenous enthusiasm for the Star Wars series and feel like everyone but me is part of 'Star Wars culture'. I once again am on the outside looking in. The circle is now complete.

There's been a bit of a drought lately of really great games to play with a room full of friends. I haven't had the urge to buy a new Wii U game since Super Smash Bros Wii U, so Mario Party 10's launch was something I've been waiting for. The Wii U has had a hard time justifying its design structure from its launch. With a bulky mainstay controller that is essential to system operation, yet an afterthought for most games, it's had a hard time finding a niche. Nintendoland, the first pack-in game, while a great tech demo for launch, couldn't quite convince the average consumer that the Wii U was a console that they couldn't live without. I had always believed that a new Mario Party game was as inevitable as a new James Bond film, and when the time came, it would really dazzle and shame the naysayers. It has arrived and, sadly, is merely limping along rather than strutting proudly. I guess when a game series hits its tenth title, the magic tends to wane a la Final Fantasy. With a variety of options for gameplay gimmicks to influence multiplayer mayhem, the Wii U seemed like the perfect opportunity to revive the series rather than simply continue it. Sadly, this is not the case. I'll be clear - I've not played the series since MP4 on the Gamecube, so I may not be the best judge of the series' progression. All the same, I quit caring because the same old formula had gotten stale and nothing of value seemed to replace what had once been so euphoric. If you've adored the series up to this point, feel free to take my opinions with a grain of salt, but Mario Party is showing its age. One of the cardinal complaints of the series from the very beginning (aside from friction-based appendage mangling injuries) is that victory is based so obscenely upon luck. The board game aspect of the earlier titles left you at the mercy of the dice. What kept fans coming back was that intense competitive factor, that minigame performance could rescue you. Mario Party had always featured a board game structure to the gameplay, but the minigames were the entire point. In the same way that old Nickelodeon game shows were all about the mess rather than the quiz questions, Mario Party was all about the mayhem of turning the game to your advantage through deceit and underhandedness. Those days are gone. Mario Party 10 treats minigames like an afterthought. The best parts of the series have been jettisoned to make room for everything players always hated. The sadistic thrills of triple-teaming someone in Grab Bag or the humor of listening to a profane rant against how stupid or unfair Slot Car Derby is are both gone. What started off as a really great way to cherish friendship (or end it) has turned into an interactive Candyland. The argument that Nintendo makes games for all ages fails miserably here. The core gameplay of Mario Party 10 is shallow and unsatisfying. Luckily, there's an aspect to this title that is still worthwhile and that is 'Bowser Party'. If you've seen any commercials, then you've already heard that the player with the huge gamepad can play as Bowser against the other four players. This lives up to the hype in pretty much every way. Bowser Party is basically a game mode made entirely out of screwing over your friends in the name of victory. The goal of the typical four player group is simply to reach the end of a minefield of a game board of horrible traps and pitfalls while being pursued by a fifth player hellbent on their destruction. The four of them all add their dice rolls together to put distance between themselves and their pursuer, who gets four dice. Whenever that fifth player catches up with the group, everyone plays a Bowser event, which heavily favors their enemy. Victory requires not only skill at survival, but minipulation of game mechanics and psychological warfare. It's obvious that this was the spark of genius at the center of this game's development. The final game mode is Amiibo Party. Amiibo party is a tacked-on gamemode that sucks which exists only to sell Amiibos. It no doubt took precious development time away from the better features of this game resulting in such a lackluster overall title and the management staff who so cynically banked on its ability to sell Skylanders ripoffs need to be beaten with rusty rods of rebar until they repent for their crimes. In all seriousness, though, a real selling point of the game was horribly mishandled here. Imagine having a basic Mario Party-styled game mode where everything was just as it was when all was fresh and new in 1998, but with HD graphics and 17 years of great ideas supporting it - Mario Party as you always remembered it. Now imagine shoehorning in Amiibos into every aspect of this game mode to justify their existence. You'll need to touch your figure to the gamepad constantly to activate the most mundane of commands, from starting turns to rolling the dice. If you need to take a leak when its not your turn, you'll be left wondering if you need your Amiibo for that. Ergonomics and functionality are important in the world of consumer electronics - someone please tell Nintendo that. In closing, Mario Party is actually less worthwhile than Nintendoland for multiplayer fun and isn't worth consideration until it reaches the same $20 price tag, even with the bonus features added on. I certainly don't recommend buying Amiibos for this thing. The one saving grace is that the Amiibos of any characters here who also make appearances in Super Smash Bros will be interchangeable between the two games. If someone really wants to justify their purchase of a new Gold Mario Amiibo, they could always just train it to beat the living hell out of them in what is a far superior game in regards to both content and quality. Mario Party 10 is a tragic waste of potential and a Grade C game at best.

Get well soon. Nobody else appreciates the art of the witch farm like we do.

What about the number of gnomes purchased? The people demand to know!

There's a more entertaining way to get your info. http://www.l4d.com/comic/comic.php

This has been in my mind since I woke up this past morning. After singing some Christmas carols in their traditional German format tonight, as is the tradition around here, it really got me thinking about how I should spread this story around for contemplation (a sort of Christmas miracle) - The Christmas Truce of 1914. Simultaneously heartwarming and heartbreaking, it's one of those impressive moments of human decency that put into perspective the horrors of combat and how the era in which even war could be conducted with a sense of dignity and chivalry is truly long dead. There's a romantic sense among some historians that Christmas of 1914 marked the end of an era and that the modern concept of merciless warfare took root afterwards. In any case, it's reason enough to give a thought and a prayer to all of those soldiers spending their Christmas far from home this holiday season and to remember those lost a century ago in the 'war to end all wars'. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christmas_truce

I used to keep a tank of seven piranhas as pets. I named the first and largest one after Vlad the Impaler for lack of a better name. I just wanted something generically bloodthirsty and fearsome, but couldn't think of anything clever. The thing I think is funny is that it was just sort of a placeholder until I came up with something better. Not only did this unoriginal name stick, it settled in so well that I adopted it myself in 2001.

1 can go either way. I'm not worried. 2 is something I've wanted for a long time. Don't forget that an entire team can (and is meant to) pitch in for special ammo. To make it too cheap is to make it too plentiful. We don't allow infected to share points for the same reason that it'll make too many tanks. 3 is a deal breaker for me. At that point we'd have wandered too far from standard L4D2. Pros will like it, but new people will end up using pistols out of ignorance. That'll be funny....until they're on your team.

Neurotic pains in the neck are nothing new, but we're finding more and more of them out there. The trouble is not limited to relationships, but involves a pervasive, malignant attitude problem that isn't gender specific. The problem is the narcissism that our society promotes these days. Ever since the tail end of Gen X, where I fit in, kids have been told that they're all unique and special and encouraged to 'just be yourself'. Good intentions aside, that attitude promotes the idea that you are fine the way you are and anyone who has a problem with that is a bully. Peer pressure has been demonzied as a force that results in drug addictions and teen pregnancy, but we've forgotten that social scorn is also a strong motivator to discourage antisocial behavior. Think back on how 1990s culture maligned conformity and glorified individuality. We're now feeling the effects of that. People think they're entitled to do what suits them best and that everyone else is obligated to adapt to their needs or they're just selfish. People like that have always existed (they're called A-holes), but now it's expanded beyond mere attitude problems to a lifestyle choice for huge quantities of people. There are a ton of people out there who are single for a reason and they assume it's because everyone else is the problem. That's a horrifying conclusion to arrive at, but it's the truth. You can't imagine how many guys I know who would rather pick the low hanging fruit because of the lack of personal responsibility involved than really work hard to be a better person and find a relationship that will make both parties happier and stronger. Many of those same people have also had to deal with infidelity since their partners eventually grow up and, as a result, feel trapped in a short-sighted and immature life that they no longer want. Building a relationship upon such a poor foundation is like painting over rust and I'm astonished how few people understand that. I can't really speak for what kind of crackpots women deal with out there as a result of all this malarkey, but I know men have to deal with a bunch of 9-year-olds trapped in women's bodies who think the world owes them something because they were born pretty (again, something that results from luck, not effort). In my experience, the only way to really succeed in love, and in life, is to cast aside contentment and always question your worth. That struggle for self-improvement is good for the heart and soul.

Just throw train cars all over the place. It'll make it really easy to spawn in and make games far less predictable.

Whenever I set up a really beautiful witch farm, people will usually kill the survivors before they can even get to it. That sucks on two levels. -There's a good deal of evil scheming and plotting that go into a quality witch farm. To cheat its gardener out of some running and scraming is just selfish and mean. -Most of the time witch farming only occurs when a team is winning by a good margin. If your team is going to win anyway, why not play with your food? Slow down, people. Enjoy the simple things in life and start witching the living hell out of the survivors. Have a sense of style, for crying out loud.

I've always wondered if we couldn't get an upgrade that made all infected immune to fire.

That finale is actually the greatest boomer/jockey map I've ever seen. It goes beyond zany fun there and actually becomes strangely effective.

Friends, I'm not the rain-or-shine sort of L4D2 player I once was, but I've been in the servers enough lately to notice a slight shift in the culture. Maybe this has been sliding so gently and slowly that none of us have paid it much mind or even felt the shift, but I feel like we're not the warm batch of brothers-in-arms we once were. Frustration and cynicism seem to be running rampant in the servers and I worry about the condition of our community in the server and on the forums. God knows I have a reputation for anger born of arrogance and that it's my least attractive trait. What frightens me is that I no longer feel like the odd man out when I lose my temper. I see more and more people worrying about self-service these days and it's strangling whatever kind of brotherhood that sets us apart from the rest of what's left of Left 4 Dead's abyssmal community. Those of you who have played this game for two or three years, back before the official Valve servers shut down, can attest to exactly how toxic the player interactions were (and probably still are). We were, and still are, a lush island of peace and order in a sea of misery and contempt. It's a bit ironic that a game that was designed to focus so intensely on teamwork and cooperation would host the most egocentric, selfish and cruel players since DotA or Counter-Strike. It's a blessing that the GC community has never tolerated the kind of damage that their breed of parasites would inflict. This is not a lecture on how we organize our games. It isn't a critique of our admins on how they perform a job that is increasingly difficult and demanding. I'm not calling out players for being difficult to deal with when they're struggling with a shrinking game community. This isn't some sort of angry forum post meant to serve as a 'wake-up call' or anything dramatic like that. All I ask is that we all stop for a moment and ask ourselves if we actually enjoy this game anymore. The word to focus on here is game. Left 4 Dead 2 is meant to be an enjoyable experience - friendly competition in a world of zany, zombie action where even your own horrible demise will be a humorous and memorable event. Our servers are a place where we can all sit down and use our gifts of humor and cleverness to contribute to something meaningless and, in doing so, make it meaningful - the entire purpose of games. The old adage about victory being insignificant compared to a game well played? I'm finding more and more truth in that wisdom as I see more and more difficulty in the ability to enjoy what was once so easy to laugh at. We've all spent a great deal of time grumbling about new players and the influx of their kind after every Steam sale, but if you take a few steps back and really analyze matters from a more objective vantage point, there's a shocking sort of revelation waiting for you. Outside of the rushers, griefers and trolls, we have people who are inexperienced and want to enjoy what we all know is a phenomenal game experience. They may not be the most skilled competitors, but their hearts may actually be in a more honest and innocent place than ours. They intend to shoot zombies and reach safe zones just like the rest of us, but simply lack the experience to do so. There is no instruction manual for how we play. There is no tutorial level. There is only us, the members, the veterans, the community. Like it or not, we're the best venue for this game now and its purpose is what we make it. So many of us play for points, for ranks, for prestige and reputation. These amateurs play for fun. That is why they'll always be winners while we continue to lose our minds arguing with one another over arbitrary points. Again, I'd like to emphasize that this is not some sort of rant to chastise anyone in particular. This is just a challenge to every single one of you whom I value as teammates, as community members and as friends. Make this the game it once was. Be the tolerant, vibrant pillar of strength that makes your team's effort a worthwhile endeavor regardless of outcome. I've joked many times about 'moral victories', but they are the true fibers that bind everything we love here together. Where there are questions, you must provide answers. Where there is imbalance, you are obligated to be the counter balance. Don't leave teams stacked because you don't want to sacrifice your chances of victory. If even a loss for your new team would be enjoyable due to your contributions, that is a true victory. If you can help the underdogs snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, that is the greatest test of your skill and leadership. If you are half the player you think you are, then make the game as fun as you possibly can. Buy witches instead of tanks to give the losing team a fighting chance. Use a weapon you have very little practice with to really show your skill. Pull punches to keep the fight going. If you truly want to be the center of attention and earn respect instead of merely demanding it, then there's no better way to obtain it than true, honest to God leadership, something we're in desperate need of these days. I want you to join with me in having fun again. I want to see people forget about the pretenses we think are so damn important and simply interact. Where do we all go from here? That's up to me. That's up to you. That's up to all of us.