Tagline: Let us review the review policy.

Okay, this one needs some explanation. On January 25th, 2000, John Wick gave an interview at the Gaming Outpost. (Although now defunct, the Gaming Outpost was a major online RPG nexus at the time.) As part of that interview, John Wick issued “The Official John Wick Review Policy”. This notably included stuff like claiming that reviewers should never say they didn’t like something. That no one should ever read a review. That no one should ever write a review. And then a strong suggestion that nobody (including fans) should express an opinion about an RPG unless they had personally published an RPG.

There were also a couple pieces of advice that weren’t complete shit.

This “review policy” came out shortly after Wick’s game 7th Sea had been inundated with bad reviews. The “Official John Wick Review Policy” poured gasoline on the fire: Wick was trying to tell an entire community of people who were disappointed with his game that they literally weren’t allowed to have an opinion about it because they hadn’t put in the “blood, sweat, and tears that make up the creative process”. I decided it would be particularly clever if I couched my own commentary on the “thou shalt not write a review” review policy in the form of a review.

So this particular review was written very much in a historical moment. I’m uncertain that it has any real meaning 15 years later, but if I’m archiving all of my historical content here on the Alexandrian, then I guess I should archive all of it.

(This is a review of The Official John Wick Review Policy, which was included as part of a Gaming Outpost interview which can be located here. You might want to go there before you read this – or after. Then again, you might not.)

John Wick’s Review Policy sucks.

What else can I say? The very idea of Wick dictating the policies people will be using to review his own material is nauseating. He seems to think that his opinion has some sort of relevance to the rest of us. I just didn’t like it.

And you won’t like it either. I guarantee it.

Not that that matters, because if you’re reading this you’re a brain dead asshole. Didn’t you read Rules #5 and #6? What part of “never read reviews” didn’t you get? This is clearly being written by someone who has no idea of the blood, sweat, and tears that makes up the creative process (as if that somehow has some relevance to the merits of a product; as if the Cleveland Browns should have been in the Superbowl because they really, really wanted to be good and worked really, really hard). And I definitely have a personal agenda to condemn the product in question, considering that I am – by default – one of those evil reviewers. I violated Rule #7 (“never write a review”) right off the bat, so why are you paying any attention to me?

Of course — don’t blink now! — Wick has definitely written reviews before (some of which can be found in his columns right here on RPGNet) – so he’s a hypocrite. I can’t testify with absolute certainty that he has ever read a review – but I suspect so, which makes him a hypocrite twice over. And if he hasn’t, then he’s speaking from ignorance.

Which just makes him an idiot.

Which brings us to Rule #9: “Before you buy a book, read a few pages first.” A good point. Feel free to go check out the policy itself before continuing. I’ll wait.

Dum de dum. Ho de do. Dum dee-dee.

…

Ho, ho, ho!

…

You’re back? Great.

You may have realized that I’m not showing much restraint here. Initially I was worried about this, but then I realized that: (1) According to Wick there is no such thing as an objective review. (2) He was going to be “pissed off” about a negative “slam”/review no matter what it said. I’d feel sorry that I was causing him so much mental anguish, but if he’d stop putting together diatribes like this then it wouldn’t be necessary for others to tear them to pieces.

We’ll have to skip Rule #10 because this isn’t a roleplaying game we’re reviewing.

And we’ll have to skip Rule #11 because Wick is repeating himself.

Which brings us to Rule #12, in which Wick reviews Pendragon, Over the Edge, Ars Magica, Conspiracy X, Call of Cthulu, Champions, Twilight: 2000, Delta Green, the James Bond RPG, and Brave New World. See Rule #7 and draw some conclusions about Wick.

Then go back and read Rules #5 and #6, in which Wick bizarrely tells you that you shouldn’t even be reading this Official John Wick Review Policy.

Oh well, I was ignoring him anyway. On to Rule #13!

“Rule #13: If you’ve never gone through the grueling process of writing, designing, developing and publishing a roleplaying game, you don’t have the knowledge necessary to properly critique one.”

First off, if a bridge collapses the first time someone walks on it you don’t need to be an engineering major to figure out that there was something wrong with the bridge. Second, I find it truly bizarre that you need all that expertise to be qualified – in Wick’s opinions – to critique them (for example, why are only self-publishers allowed?). Finally, this whole thing leads to the oddity where it’s all right to critique a game, but you shouldn’t review it.

Rule #14 tells us that we have the right to express our opinions and the right to not express our opinions. Quite right. Rule #14.5 tells us that if we choose to “disregard these rights” (by both expressing and not expressing our opinion? by half expressing our opinion? what?) “anything you say can and will be used against you”.

Ah, poetic justice.

Rule #15 tells us that you need to defend your opinions – you need to justify them. Again, quite right. Pity Wick never seems to follow his own advice. Despite Rule #16: “All of the above rules apply to everyone. Including me.”

Style: 2
Substance: 1

Author: John Wick
Company/Publisher: Gaming Outpost
Cost: Free!
Page Count: n/a
ISBN: n/a

Originally Posted: 2000/01/28

Kaboom! Unsurprisingly, my caustic and ironic response to Wick’s diatribe provoked fierce responses. Wick himself notably failed to see the humor in a review of his review policy which systematically violated every single one of the absurd “rules” that he had proposed for reviews. We exchanged a number of heated comments back and forth across a variety of online forums.

The interesting thing is that, within a few weeks, John Wick and I had gotten over it: We had our argument and then we moved on. When I went to Gencon later that year, John was releasing his truly excellent Orkworld game. I shook his hand, we talked briefly, and he signed the book, “You review this and I’ll break your legs!” We laughed, chatted some more, and then I wandered off to read the book.

For a large number of people, though, John Wick and I were arch-enemies locked in an eternal feud. When my positive review of Orkworld appeared, I got several e-mails from people who were wondering if I’d “sold out” or if RPGNet had “forced” me to write a positive review. Some of it completely bizarre stuff; most of it just confusion.

It should be noted that Wick’s handling of the situation stood in marked contrast to the attitude of Sovereign Press at the same convention. (Which I describe at the end of my review of Sovereign Stone.)

For an explanation of where these reviews came from and why you can no longer find them at RPGNet, click here.

Go to Part 1

The Empire of the Known Worlds, the established setting of the Fading Suns game, is described by HDI as “a futuristic passion play”. As they say, it is primarily a science fiction game, but one indelibly painted with broad strokes of fantasy, sociopolitical feudalism, horror, and ancient mystery. It is a world in which stories of “varied and exotic themes” can be told, but those stories are – by the very nature of the setting – of a dark tone. It deals with “grand themes of the human experience” with a main theme of “Seeking”, the “mythological role all heroes play: the knight on quest, seeking power to vanquish his enemies or the secrets of self-discovery. Success or failure on this quest is not as important as the insights learned while on it.”

In expanding the setting to include the Human Concordat I have been careful to maintain that central theme of “Seeking”, but I have also been reticent of the fact that the Concordat shifts the way in which that theme is conveyed. It is a brighter, better place than the Empire. Where the Empire operates in shadow, the Concordat is a place of light.

But both share the exploratory spirit. Where Emperor Alexius is dragging his feudal empire into a new age of renaissance and exploration, the Human Concordat is engaged in its pacifistic mission to reunite humanity (and using that term to not only include humans, but all intelligent species). The exploration of the Empire is a renewal, the exploration of the Concordat is a cleansing. The exploration of the Empire is focused on the individual and self-improvement; the exploration of the Concordat is focused on society as a whole and unified improvement. There is a difference of means, but not ends.

In choosing to add the Human Concordat to an existing campaign, or starting a new campaign using the setting, it is important to remember that you are shifting the focus and feel of the Fading Suns game. In doing so you will find that the Concordat, although changing the feel of the setting, also complements the Empire. Use not only the thematic similarities, but also the thematic dissonances between the Concordat and the Empire to your advantage in designing and supplementing your campaign.

Reflections on the Human Concordat

When I launched my Patreon campaign a couple days ago, I was overjoyed when it took less than three hours to hit our first milestone goal of $10 per blog post. I immediately sat down and started work on an article discussing what I refer to as the Principles of RPG Villainy. I said that $10 per post was the point where I could start dedicating more time to the Alexandrian and it was an absolute truth.

By the time I finished writing that essay, we were just $0.50 away from hitting our second milestone goal and banishing advertising from the Alexandrian forever.

I really can’t tell you how excited I am about what this means for the Alexandrian. We are on the road to nifty, and everybody reading this will benefit from that whether you can afford to become my patron or not.

Patrons pledging $1 or more per post already have early access to the Principles of RPG Villainy. The rest of you will see it on January 5th following the conclusion of the Human Concordat series.

$0.10? $0.25? $1.00?

… even the smallest of pledges can add up to wondrous things.

Go to Part 1

MORE WORLDS OF THE CONCORDAT

Altrua is also known as the “Homeworld of the Anima”. Much persecuted during the time of the Second Republic, the Anima discovered a jumpgate code to an uncolonized world. For nearly a hundred years it served as a secret gathering point for them – a place of safety and acceptance. Then, during the Fall, violence against Anima forced many to flee to Altrua. As their planet was threatened by discovery they sealed their jumpgate. Eventually contact was made with the Human Concordat, and the culture of universal acceptance and emancipation was extremely attractive to the historically oppressed Anima.

For unknown reasons the terraforming engines on this planet were calibrated to create massive equatorial hurricano storms. These storms, constricted by the terraforming engines, do not effect the northern and southern hemispheres, who have formed separate governments, each of which is represented in the Concordat.

This alien homeworld was undiscovered at the time of the Fall. Later discovered by the Human Concordat, the complete and unadulterated freedom the Entreri have enjoyed as members of the republic is an excellent example of the Concordat’s tolerance. The Entreri themselves are extremely intelligent, telepathic, over-sized rodents with opposable thumbs. Famed for their curiousity they have popularly been nicknamed “raccoons”, a name which they seem to embrace wholeheartedly.

Established at the very end of the Second Republic, the terraforming engine on Colony was never finished. Largely desert the planet’s population is centered in a huge biosphere near the equator. The planet has become a center for the study into terraforming technology – the one true secret which remains, as yet, unmastered by the Concordat scientists.

The world of Binary, as the name implies, orbits two stars. This notable feature meant that Binary managed to establish itself quite successfully as a tourist trap. From these roots Binary quickly grew, and is now considered the entertainment capital of the Concordat.

Also known as “The Chain”, the seven worlds of the Seven Pearls are most notable for their arrangement in jumpgate travel – strung out, one after the other. They are Lyonesse, Leicester, New Salisbury, Exeter, Cambridge, Suffolk, and Carlisle. The Seven Pearls have developed a certain homogeneity of image, despite the fact that they are politically quite separate. Since they have joined the Concordat, they have become known for their financial and political power.

Like the Empire, the Concordat has also been forced to deal with barbarian worlds whose jumpgates have reopened onto their space. The four worlds Norjken, Rampart, Bastion, and Owre are collectively known as the “Hinterlands”, providing a military buffer between the various barbarian powers and the Concordat. This was the acknowledged “frontier”, and is popularly known as a rough, dangerous place with a slightly uncivilized edge.

Centuries after Sartra’s reforms brought the Concordat out of the Dark Ages contact was again made with the Vau when the planet Geneva was rediscovered. Today Geneva has lived up to its namesake by being the primary seat of the diplomatic efforts between the Concordat and the Vau. Although the Vau are still withdrawn from human affairs, their relationship with the Concordat is far more cordial and refined than it has ever been before in human history.

Go to Part 5: The Concordat as Campaign Setting

Go to Part 1

In considering Richard II and Richard II: Thomas of Woodstock we continue to struggle with the question: Which came first?

In the case of Richard II we know that the play was definitely written by August 29^th, 1597, when it was entered into the Stationers’ Registry. (It was first published later that year.) Internal evidence has suggested dates ranging anywhere from 1592 to 1596 for its composition, but common consensus is that Shakespeare used The First Fowre Bookes of the Civil Warres by Samuel Daniels (written in 1594 and published in 1595) as one of his sources and conclude that the play was most likely written in 1595 or 1596.

For R2: Woodstock, we have no external evidence of a date. The style, genre, form, and even politics of the play have all been used to suggest a date in the late 1580’s or early 1590’s. (If you see a movie featuring primitive video games and the threat of nuclear war in a “ripped from the headlines of today” style, chances are you’re watching a movie from the early 1980’s.) More recently, however, a great deal of interest has been given to stylometric studies which attempt to pinpoint the play’s use of language in relation to general linguistic trends. (If you see a movie with people talking about bumping off the big cheese because he’s all wet, you’re probably watching a movie from before 1960.)

In 2001, Macd. P. Jackson published “Shakespeare’s Richard II and the Anonymous Thomas of Woodstock”, presenting a fresh stylometric study of the play which suggested that the play must have been written after 1600.

For example, Jackson looks at the number of feminine endings in the play (verse lines with 11 instead of 10 syllables):

Moreover, the percentage of feminine endings within blank verse lines would be thoroughly anomalous in a play composed around 1592 or 1593. Some basic data was meticulously accumulated by Philip W. Timberlake for his study entitled The Feminine Ending in English Blank Verse (1991), which covers plays 1580-95. […]

Timberlake shows that George Peele’s The Old Wives’ Tale is the only undoubted play by Robert Greene, Thomas Kyd, Thomas Lodge, John Lyly, Christopher Marlowe, Thomas Nashe, or George Peele, in which the percentage of feminine endings, on a strict count, rises about four, and in The Old Wives’ Tale it is only five. […] Most of the many anonymous plays yield single-figure percentages. Those with 10 percent or more are A Larum for London (10), Soliman and Perseda (10), King Leir (11), Alphonsus Emperor of Germany (11.5), John a Kent and John a Cumber (14), Jeronimo, Part 1 (19), Sir Thomas More (21), and Woodstock (21). […]

The high proportion of feminine endings in Woodstock — and the play is remarkably homogeneous in this regard — strongly suggests that the verse belongs to the seventeenth century, when many dramatists were making quite liberal use of this metrical variation.

Such arguments are meticulous. Unfortunately, many of Jackson’s conclusions are based on excluding Shakespeare’s work during the 1590’s specifically because his was the style which would later be widely imitated:

Only one play considered by Timberlake, namely Sir Thomas More, employs feminine endings as frequently as Woodstock, and only five others approach this rate, with percentages of fourteen or more. Three of the five are by Shakespeare, who is obviously not a candidate for the authorship of Woodstock.

In other words, 4 out of the 6 plays which contain such a high percentage of feminine endings pre-1600 were either contributed to or written by Shakespeare. Shakespeare was leading the pack, and if one considers Shakespeare to be a viable candidate for writing R2: Woodstock, then not only is the confidence of Jackson’s thesis badly damaged, but his research actually contributes substantially to a very different picture which is being painted by all of the evidence we’ve considered:

The Two Truths of the authorship of Richard II: Thomas of Woodstock.

Go to Part 4

Originally posted on September 17th, 2010.