You know how, like, a mouse only needs a tiny hole to get in your house? Or how a staph infection can get in through even the smallest cut? This is like that. But it’s about books. And it involves my wife accidentally leaving a tiny hole, a hole big enough for a mouse, or a virulent bacterium, or a squirming notion.

See, we’re selling our house.

Which means we’re preemptively packing up said house in a spate of wishful thinking. When the time comes to eject, we want to be ready to jump out the plane and pull the ripcord sans hesitation.

Of course, in the process of packing up the house, my wife has rediscovered one of the cardinal, principal truths of object ownership –

Books are the heaviest substance known to man.

That’s an indisputable gorram fact. Stephen Hawking proved it. You get a bunch of books together in a single box, and suddenly, that box is a thousand times heavier than any single book it might contain.

That, you see, is when the wife made her grievous error. When she opened herself to the terror of a single idea. She said, and I quote:

“You need to get an iPad or something you you stop buying so many damn books.”

It was like a tiny beam of sunlight poking through turbid clouds.

It was the mouse hole. The tiny cut. It was a hungry brainworm.

Ah-ha! What’s that, you say, oh wife of my heart, oh love of my soul, oh lady who stirs my loins? You think books are heavy? And that, were I to happen to procure an iPad, that might mitigate the problem of the aforementioned heavy books? Oh! How fascinating. How compelling a notion! What an idea! A powerful meme! Let it dance and duplicate! Let there be cat videos!

And then I think, “Hey, we’re traveling for two weeks in the fall. You know what I don’t want to take with me? A bunch of heavy books. And you know what else I don’t want to take with me? My heavy-ass laptop.”

Once again, the iPad potentially rears its head.

Thus it seems like a good plan to start trying to horn my way in on that most grievous of errors made by my wife and try to get her — through seduction or liquor, or through the seduction of liquor — to commit to allowing me just such a purchase. Let’s mistakenly assume that I’m that good, that my tongue is inlaid with silver and gold, that my very breath is like a narcotic mist from an exotic flower.

(Or, we could assume something much closer to the truth: that I’m annoying enough and stubborn enough to irritate her like a grain of sand trapped in panty elastic so that she’ll acquiesce to my needling.)

The question really then becomes:

Do I want an iPad?

Those of you out there: is that what I want? Should I wait? Will I be displeased with my purchase? Obviously I want something that functions as an e-reader — despite my insistence that I don’t really want an e-reader, I really do, because true fact: books really are heavy.

But I’d also like something that functions as a computer. Something that will jostle for position in my writing process, much like the iPhone has done. (Another bonus point for the iPad, I assume, is that I already have a number of apps for the iPhone: some cross over, do they not?)

Still, maybe it’s not what I want.

Maybe I just want a Kindle. Or a Nook. Hard to see the price value of either of those, given that they’re both Dread Unitaskers. Or maybe I just want a netbook, but can a netbook really function as an e-reader? Or maybe what I want is a different tablet. Help me out: what else is out there?

Advise me, O’ Sages, O’ Scholars, O’ Misty-Eyed Technodemics! Is an iPad what I want? I strongly resist the notion that I want a 3G iPad (not fond of their new un-unlimited plan, and I don’t want another monthly Internet charge). Maybe you love your Kindle? Your Nook? Your Netbook? Your pencil-and-paper?

Guide me.

Help me decipher my needs.

Help me convince my wife.

Help me, Obi-Gyn Kenobi. You’re my only hope.

Yes, they announced the new Apple Tablet.

Yes, it’s called the iPad.

No, it isn’t Jesus.

No, it’s also not the Devil.

Shhhh.

Let’s talk about it like two rational human beings. I know! I know. This is the Internet. This is not the place for rational discourse. I get that. We could be executed for this transgression by the Overlords of Protocol. But this is a safe place. This is a temple.

Now, please to meet the iPad.

iThink That’s A Shitty Name

The iPad.

That… that is not a great name. I concede that point. Didn’t anybody ask anybody? Sure, the first thing that comes to mind is a lady’s, ahem, *points with swirling finger toward crotch and whistles* — y’know. Her monthly red algal bloom. Right? Know what I mean? Algal bloom? Red tide? Hm?

Really, though, the name comes with a world of connotations, few of them good. My mother’s dogs pee on puppy pads. Girls with bee-sting booby bumps might go ahead and “pad” their bras. “Pad” is an aging term for one’s home or hangout. To pad along is to walk quietly. A synonym for “pad” is “wad,” and if you put “dick” in front of that, well, c’mon. (Though does that mean I have a new insult? “Dickpad?” “Hey, Bill, you were a real dickpad last night. That thing with the snack bowl? Not cool, bro, not cool.”) Pad is just so passive. It isn’t even nice to say. Paaaad.

The only two positive connotations I get are “notepad,” which is a fun thing in which to write, or Pad Thai, which is the delicious national dish of Thailand.

I assume that Apple is going for the former, but really, “notebook” is far cooler than “notepad,” and right there they have the answer: iBook. Name it the goddamn iBook. It’s what they’re going for, it’s the name of the book service, so just port it right over. It’s okay if the meaning isn’t perfect. The term “iTunes” refers to software that sells a shedload more than songs. The term “iPod” is… basically meaningless.

The iPad?

Really?

You Do Know It’s Not A Computer, Right?

A lot of the early complaints coming out about this thing is that it’s not a robust computer, and that you can buy a netbook for like, fifteen cents and some bottlecaps or something. I get that. My mountain bike is also not a car. My dog? Not a duck. No matter how much I bemoan the fact that my dog is not a duck, it doesn’t make the comparison a reasonable one. It’s just how it is. Things are not other things.

Yes, some netbooks will do more than the iPad and it’ll do it with an equal or lesser price.

My desktop wasn’t very expensive, and it punches the shit out of my laptop, which punches the shit out of my netbook. I didn’t buy them so they could exist as one another. (Actually, full disclosure: I don’t own a netbook. Shut up, you.)

Yes, it’s a giant iPod-slash-iPhone.

Did you… expect something different?

Why would you think that?

What did you think was going to happen? Did you think you were getting a PC, maybe? Because this is Apple. This is what Apple does. It designs efficient, often aesthetically-pleasing devices that do experiences very well. Not necessary tasks, but experiences. And that’s okay. Maybe that’s not your thing. It doesn’t have to be. But don’t be angry at it. Just don’t buy it. It’s not government mandated. Obama isn’t outlawing other tablet computers. You will not be executed for owning a Windows-based netbook. I promise. Scout’s honor.

Did you think you were getting a robot? A spaceship? What?

Sure, It Has Its Problems

No camera: For me, not a problem, because I don’t give a shit. You do, and that’s okay. I expect a camera is a 2.0 kind of thing, but yes, it should’ve had it right out of the gate, just like the iPhone should’ve had cut-and-paste out of the gate. But it doesn’t. Go cry about it.

Big border: Yeah, it needs that, though, otherwise my clumsy, greasy ape fingers will fuck up the touchy-touch.

No multitasking: An odd choice, but part of me wonders what this really means. I can loosely multitask on my iPhone — if I go back to my browser, it and the many sub-browsers I’ve opened are still there, on the pages where I left ‘em. My music plays in the background, unless it’s Pandora (grumblegrumble). Yes, I have to close and open apps, which takes me approximately two more seconds than if I went to click on a tab. I can see why that might be annoying in the total, but ultimately, multitasking usually just distracts me from what I need to be doing. So, yes, it’s silly, but I also don’t know that I care.

The keyboard: I can see it being awkward, because I can’t hold it while I type. That could get goofy. I don’t know what the solution would be, though, outside an external keyboard, which you can do with the iPad. And from what I hear, a Bluetooth keyboard is good to go. More revolutionary solutions might also be more annoying and particular.

3G, AT&T, Blah Blah Blah: I wouldn’t get it with 3G, because that’s largely overrated. The 3G service doesn’t let you do everything that Wi-Fi does on the iPhone, so I dunno why I’d expect differently with the iPad. People seem to think the Wi-Fi alone is useless, but most places I’d be carrying a big ol’ piece of technology is likely to have Wi-Fi. Like, say, my house. Where I live. If I really needed it, I have AT&T. Silly, but again, not an issue for me.

No Flash: Ah! Finally one that actually annoys me. Annoys me on the iPhone, annoys me here. Well, technically, I think it supports Flash, just not in the browser, which is… kind of where it matters, so that sucks. A big brown poop mark for sticking with that hobbled version of Safari Mobile.

It Ain’t No Revolution

This isn’t a rebellion against the old. This isn’t the full-bore future. It’s not a new version, but rather, a sequel to an earlier version. A zero-point-five iteration, maybe.

Does that disappoint me? Sure. I was hoping that it would really pop, that this fucker would hum and sing and fly and give me oral favors and cast spells against my enemies. I really wanted it to kind of be the Giant Remote Control of my life and software. Walk to one room, carry my digital persona with me — organize, entertain, update, inform. Play, learn, experience. From here to there. Boom. Bam. Masturbate. Yeah.

Not so much.

It’s basically a big iPod Touch.

The question is, just because it’s not a revolution, is it worthless?

I kind of like the iPod Touch. Actually, I really like it. So a bigger version with deeper functionality… isn’t… the worst thing ever. Especially when you consider…

That Price Ain’t Half-Bad

Hey, I was expecting $1000 or more. Apple overvalues its products a lot of the time (in my humble opinion). But this? This is priced pretty well. Think what you want. I can get a big Kindle for $489, and an iPad for not much more. The Kindle is 4GB and basically does one thing. The iPad (at that price) has 16GB and does… my guess is, a whole fucking lot.

Now, to be clear, I would rather they charge more and offer a bigger, more revolutionary product. But I’d also like a pony, and that ain’t happening anytime soon, so I’m going to go ahead and try to match my expectations up to the reality and go from there.

(Though, if anybody has a line on a really cheap pony — no biters, now — I’m waving around some cash. Waaaaving it around. Just between you and me. Don’t tell the wife. She can’t read this thing, right?)

Things I Like

Nice e-reader, from what I can tell. Big screen, and it looks like a book. Further, from what I can see, you actually get an image of pages and pages left, which answers part of my problem with e-readers (in that they offer me no context regarding the book I’m reading). Plus, non-proprietary format (epub, pdf). The iBooks store should be easy to use. I prefer buying my music on Amazon because it’s cheaper, but browsing the iTunes store is more fun, so we’ll see how it ends up here. Of course, it may not matter — one way or another, the iPad is going to read Kindle books. My iPhone does. Why wouldn’t the iPad? So that’s a win, and that may be where this device has its most value: as a really amped-up e-reader.

I like that it has iWork. That intrigues me. And I think for $30, as opposed to the $80 version you’d get for a Mac computer (but my info might be wrong, there).

The battery, provided it’s not a callous lie, sounds robust. I assume since the device has more real estate, it gets bigger battery voodoo.

Users say it’s fast. Twice as fast as the iPhone. Cool.

Things I Don’t Like

As said, no Flash.

Too many adapters makes Baby Jesus kill lepers with hand grenades.

Big exposed glass screen is bad for clumsy crap-fingers like me.

It isn’t a revolution, but rather, a slow evolution.

What I Want To Do With It

I want to do a transmedia novel. A real one. A tablet-specific app with a novel bound to it that functions by itself, but used properly branches out into audio, video, game screens, graphic novel elements, and social media connections. That’s what I want to do. I think it’d be pretty cool. Anybody want to help me develop it? Anybody? Bueller? Bueller?

Give me a ringy-dingy.

The Verdict: Buy Or Die?

Will I get one?

Well… no. Not right now. I don’t have money just blowing around the room like windswept leaves. (And if I did, c’mon, we’ve been over this. I’d buy a pony.) That’s not to say I won’t get one eventually — I do a lot of my main work on the desktop now, and find my laptop clunky, and if that takes a dirt-nap I may go for an interim, aesthetically-pleasing solution like the iPad. (Gads, I really hate that goddamn name. iPaaaaaad. iPeed. iPood. Paaaaah. Duh. Ick.) And, if on a lark I actually get someone to help me develop this transmedia novel, then wham, I’ll get one stat.

But to be clear, I don’t think it’s a bad deal. I think it’s a good deal. Not great. Not revolutionary. But squarely in the “B-to-B+” range of potential. It certainly isn’t the second, third, or fourth coming (despite what you may have heard), but it also isn’t a plague of frogs or locusts. It’s an Apple product. It’s quirky and imperfect and cute and it will have its sycophants just as it will have its froth-lipped detractors.

I’d suggest not being either.

I’d say — y’know, just relax.

Just — shhh.

It’s time to sleep, now.

Time to take your pills.

Shh.

Today, I think, is that day.

Thing is, this magical tablet has to be pretty dang magical. It’s not like tablet computers don’t already exist. They do. And they’re not that exciting. Will I buy this messianic device, birthed from the heavens, ejaculated from the quivering loins of gender-neutral angels, held aloft by a brigade of chum-covered cherubim?

Maybe.

But first, I have some demands.

Priced In The Sweet Spot

Believe it or not, my demands here are pretty loose, like the blown-out elastic in a pair of old tighty-whities. If Apple charges under a $1000, I’m happy. I’ve seen some balk at that price, saying that it has to be below $800 or whatever to really sing, but c’mon. The tiniest Kindle is over $250, and the mamma-jamma Kindle is over $450. And the Kindle does, mmm, ohhh, one thing. It is the definition of “unitasker” in the electronic world, and to me, that makes it a bit of a boat anchor. So, you tell me I can pay twice as much and get… a billion times the functionality? (Shut up. Not an exaggeration. Don’t you condescend to me, man.) Hey, I’m in. A grand or under is a sexy price point. Almost any existent tablet PC will cost you $1200 and up (though, yes, you get a keyboard), and they ain’t that special.

A Weapon In The Transmedia Revolution

My writing partner is one of the foremost proselytizers of the future of storytelling — “transmedia” being the way we can tell stories across multiple platforms, across multiple screens. (I can get into my newfound love of transmedia in another post, if sufficient interest exists surrounding that topic.)

I think the iTablet (or iSlate or the iRoc Z or whatever the hell this thing is called) could be the goddamn Rosetta Stone of the transmedia revolution.

Here’s how –

I rent a movie on my television screen.

I stop the movie in the middle, because I have to go upstairs, or get on a train, or head down to the robot brothel to wrangle up some borg-bitches out of the cyber-stable (relax, I’m pimping robot ladies, not real ladies, don’t get your athletic protector in a twist). I can take the film I’m watching on my television, and jack it over to my Apple Tablet, and continue watching it from that point forward. Even cooler, I now have access to a world of ancillary story components attached to that film — probably in the form of apps, because “apps” sounds like “appetizers,” and who doesn’t love Cheese-Sodden Bacon-Ribbed Tater Canoes? I can pull up interviews with the creators, I can watch connected episodic content, I can pause the frame and dig up IMDB on that one actor who looks like Ed Harris but isn’t Ed Harris, I can connect to social media like a CNN stock ticker and tell people about the fucked-up movie I’m watching, I can further extend out and play a game surrounding the experience, I can read an interactive script, I can pause the scene when the protagonist goes through the door on the right and I can click on the door he didn’t choose and see what story lurks behind that door, and so on, and so forth. All on the Apple Tablet.

I want, I can take the Tablet to my PC, and with a masturbatory flick of the wrist transfer the experience to my desktop computer. Or I can flip it right into my iPhone because I don’t want to take the tablet on the train because I fear filthy hobos will steal it.

In the perfect future, I’ll even be able to wander by my fridge, and pull the inventory of my fridge onto or off of the Apple Tablet. In that future, I’ll be so married to the Apple Tablet, I won’t ever be able to leave it behind. If I ever lose it, I’ll be like a man spun in a circle and dropped in a desert with no food or water. I’ll just wander around, cotton-mouthed, wondering where my underpants are, and eventually, I’ll perish. That’s the future in which I hope to live. A future where I am super-dependent on technology.

I like to dream.

I Don’t Give A Fuck If It’s A Phone

Everything doesn’t have to be a phone. My microwave is not a phone, and making it one will not increase it’s value. A lot of things aren’t a lot of things, and that’s okay. A blender is not a hard drive. A ham sandwich is not a seagull. Maybe in an eventual future we’ll only have one object, one magical device that becomes everything else, but right now I’m okay if the tablet serves as, well, a really awesome computer.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not one of those people who thinks the iPhone is a shitty phone. It’s the best phone I’ve ever had — er, except when I was in Park City, at which point no part of the device’s connectedness worked because I was one of the approximately seven billion people crammed in that town using the same service.

Still, the Apple Tablet? Phone service? I get it. I get that people will want to have 3G on it so they can watch old episodes of Hong Kong Phooey in the middle of the Ozark Mountains, but let’s be clear: the service won’t extend that far, and really, 3G isn’t a robust enough protocol to get you that kind of media in a reasonable way. At least, it hasn’t been for me. Hell, some of my apps demand I be attached to wi-fi — you think the Apple Tablet apps (the Tablet is purportedly based on the iPhone OS) won’t require a profound bandwidth? They’re not going to be lesser, weaker apps. They’ll be beefier. Hungrier.

Further, if the rumors are true, once more the device will be married to AT&T. Now, that gets a lot of bad press, but I don’t think AT&T is the problem: any single carrier picks up the God Device, and that single carrier is going to have a hard time meeting demand in big areas. The issue is that it’s married to a single carrier. I don’t want to buy the Tablet and then have to saddle it with phone service and pay out the sphincter month-in and month-out. I pay that already with the iPhone. I bend over there, and I take it, and I like it. But my submission to these devices only goes so far.

Finally, again, I don’t need another phone. I don’t want to jam the Apple Tablet to my head and talk on it like I’m a child speaking into a giant’s shoe. “Hello? I’m on my Apple Tablet! When I’m done speaking to you, it turns into a cold and merciless pillow. Can you hear me? Where’s the mouthpiece on this huge hunk of technology? I think I have to spin it around, give me a couple minutes.”

I Want It To Be Friends With My iPhone, Though

I know, now I’m into “blue sky thinking,” but seriously, I want my iPhone and my Apple Tablet to go on little adventures together. Like George and Lennie from Of Mice And Men. I want them to hold hands and play together. Whatever I do on my iPhone, I want to do on my Apple Tablet (er, except the phone), only bigger and better. And whatever I do on my Apple Tablet, I want to do on my iPhone, only smaller and weaker. That’d be great. Together, they could fight crime.

Actually, if I were really thinking big, I’d think small. I’d say that Apple should come up with a third device — a device smaller than the iPhone to complete the triumverate. It’d be like, I dunno, the iThumb or something, and it would be a thumbnail-sized screen that literally fits over my thumb, and I’d be watching an episode of Leverage on it or something, and I wouldn’t be able to make out a goddamn thing, but that’s okay, because it’s so cute! (Actually, out of all seriousness, it’d be interesting to have a small controller device like that, some tiny piece of tech that serves as a motion based remote. I might just be making that up, or high on ayahuasca tea.)

Hell, we could go bigger, too. The Tablet could be the middle child, and instead maybe we’ll get a giant Apple device whose screen unfurls like the wings of a hang-glider, and I rise on vectors of warm air coming up off of hot asphalt, and I drift high in the sky with the turkey buzzards, craning my neck to see read the New York Times on the wings above my skull.

Mmmm. What a beautiful future it will be.

Can I Stick My Dick In It? Is There An App For That?

You cannot masturbate with the iPhone. You can try. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

See? See what I mean?

Okay, yeah, you can kind of hold it with the one hand, but the screen bobs and weaves, and it’s very distracting. Alternately, you can try to physically use the device as the masturbatory tool, but that’s just painful. Thwacking your wacker with the iPhone just bruises your little man, and further, you really need to invest in a robust screen protector. The headphone jack on my iPhone is… well. I’m just saying, it’s a little gummed up.

So! The Apple Tablet represents a great possibility: the chance to stick my penis inside powerful technology.

Okay, fine, I understand if the device doesn’t come with a “penile port” built in. That’s not unreasonable. But it’d be great if there were some manner of after-market attachment, right? Or maybe an app that conjures a virtual “cock portal” that ionizes the air and creates an electromagnetic thrum that simulates having sex, if not with a human, than with a robot human, or at least a Roomba.

And what about the ladies? I dunno. That’s your bag of tricks, girlies. You tell me. I don’t have a vagina. Those things are a mystery. I feel like I’m trying to find a trapdoor under a rug, and next thing I know there’s a wizard, and he’s trying to trap me with his riddles, and then there’s a little man in a boat and — well. I leave the iVagina talk to you. You make your own dreams. I’ll handle mine.

Really, what I’m saying is, the Apple Tablet can revolutionize both pornography and sex toys. I know, more blue sky thinking, but there it is. I said it. Someone pay me.

In Conclusion

The Apple Tablet could be, like Jesus, the alpha and the omega. It may be the end of things we’ve come to expect: a traditional keyboard, anchored media, the way we consume information, the way we connect with others, the way we masturbate. And it may be the beginning of new things: unfettered media, portable social connections, a world where the virtual and the physical are married, nü-porn.

Then again, it might just be a really nifty handheld computer.

Which is fine. I guess. I just hope Apple really takes the reins on this one and gives us a transcendent device, a device that enslaves us all, a device that demands its own religion.

(Actually, in all seriousness, as a creator and storyteller, I wasn’t being facetious when I said that it could help usher in a new way to consume both entertainment and knowledge. The iPhone may have been the missing link, the bridge between old and new — then again, the Apple Tablet might instead be that bridge, and this iteration might not get us there yet, wherever and whatever “there” happens to be. I joke, but if the device is as interesting as promised, I might seriously consider getting one eventually. Maybe not in this generation, but then again, if I really want to tell stories in a new way, maybe it’s not the worst idea to grab hold of the future while the gettin’ is good.)

Or, make nests out of it, perhaps.

A butt plug nest. That’s the future.

Anyway. Right! This here 2009 ain’t gone yet, and so I’ve got a few more things to throw at your faces. Ready? Chin up. Here goes.

Move It To The Music

I dunno that it was a great year for music, but I guess it wasn’t a bad one. It had a few notable standouts, which I list here for the sake of completeness.

The new Yeah Yeah Yeah’s album, It’s Blitz, could also be named, “the tits,” because dangit if it ain’t. Great album. Actually one of my favorite albums of many years past. Far, far better than their last effort (which was okay, but nothing ejaculatory). I’ll admit that I sometimes miss the hard, frenetic, fuzzy psycho-fuck edge that the band put forth in something like Fever to Tell, but truth is, the new album shows a maturity in both lyricism and musical ability. The album’s got earworms.

Eminem’s Relapse is similarly a more mature work — though, “mature” for Eminem still involves, y’know, mentions of various serial crimes. But he’s clearly focusing inwards with this one. I haven’t picked up the additional tracks of Refill, yet, but may soon.

Jonathan Coulton’s Best. Concert. Ever. continues to be in constant car rotation. A great live set. Brought new life to old classics, and some classics I’d missed or ignored.

Lily Allen’s It’s Not Me, It’s You was a solid B+, but wasn’t quite up to par with her first effort? Not as universally catchy. Again, she’s matured — but sometimes, that’s just not what you want in your music.

Butterfly Boucher’s Scary Fragile? Good. Again, maybe not as good as her opening effort. Sophomore slump and all that.

MC Chris: Part Six, Part One. IG-88’s ‘57 Chevy. Yes. Profane white-boy rap (also present in Lonely Island’s Incredibad).

For further hilarity, might I recommend a listen to Patton Oswalt’s My Weakness Is Strong?

Really, though, what I like about this time of the year is that I can check all the cool music aggregators (elbo.ws for the win), which then gives me access to a shit-ton of Best Of 2009 lists, and from there I start buying albums. Amazon in particular has a pretty hot deal going where, if you buy an album over $7.99, you get one of their maaaany awesome $5.00 albums fo free. I am now the proud owner of The Decemberist’s Crane Wife, a new Louis CK comedy album, and a handful of other rockin’ good stuff.

That reinforces how little I know about current music anymore, though. But it at least allows me to play “catch up.”

That means I’m taking suggestions, by the way. Got music for me? Share in comments.

(Man, as I’m putting in links for the music, I found something called Lala –? Which lets you listen you the album directly? Check the links above for examples. That’s pretty nice.)

iPhone, You Phone, We All Phone

I’ve already regaled you with tales of iPhone apps for writers and iPhone apps at the game table –

Now, my favorite iPhone games of the year? Buckle up, butternuts.

Dude, Spider: The Secret of Bryce Manor is once again one of those little unexpected games. You are a spider. You fling the spider and make webs, and then you catch bugs to eat. Simple, right? Except, you’re doing so in this decrepit old manorhouse, and you start putting together a little puzzle regarding the story of this place. Very cool. Maybe not as holy shit as Portal, but slick nevertheless.

Peggle — oh, sweet Molly McGoggins, I have probably lost as many hours to this game as I have to Modern Warfare 2. It’s like pinball on crack.

Well, actually, pinball on crack looks more like Monster Pinball. There’s something delicious exciting about pinball, by the way. It’s a game you can never win. And yet you keep playing. Crazy.

What else? Well, Pocket God isn’t really a game…? Okay. These little natives run out on an island. And you can manipulate them, the island, and the weather to mess with them. Sharks? Bird poop? Storms? Spiders? Fish? Spears? Dinosaur? All of the above, and more. They keep releasing free updates that give you new ways to torment your islanders. Weird, and not a lot of longevity, but a hoot-and-a-half.

Out of non-game experiences, I’m currently effing around with TrueHDR (almost-HDR pics with the iPhone; not bad!), Sushipedia (is just what it sounds like; it’s free!), and Layar Reality Browser (augmented reality; not as actually useful as you’d like, but has a very endearing “cool factor” that shows future promise if not present potential).

(Oh! And my wife loves this game, Rolando 2: Quest for the Golden Orchid, which looks crazy fun. I love when she plays it, because it has music from Mr. Scruff.)

Web Shiznit

I won’t regale you with the awesome blogs that sit just to the right of this here text block — because, hey, there they are. Go there. Click amongst them. Frolic upon them and within them. Let your priapism strain against the denim.

But, other web sites? Those, I can tell you about.

My wife found Super Punch just yesterday, and I can imagine it will be fodder for my tumblelog well into the future. Because it is awesome. Just go and see it.

The Oatmeal doesn’t get nearly enough direct love — I see it linked a lot, but I don’t see a lot of people say, “Geez, that there Oatmeal, well, it’s the Town Crier in Giggletown.” Ten Words You Need To Stop Misspelling? How To Ride A Pony? Things Bears Love? All good. And so much more.

I didn’t just discover John Scalzi as a human being, but I did this year discover the badassery that is his blog. Hence — his blog! Go. Clean typography. Great advice. Awesome stories. Fascinating commentary.

If you’re a screenwriter and you’re not loving another John — John August — I’d ask what’s wrong with your diseased tick-filled brain? (I am saddened that he isn’t one of the creative advisors over at the Sundance Screenwriters’ Lab this year — not that we don’t have great choices, but he’s there just about every year, I thought.)

Design sites made it into my rotation, what with my burgeoning Photoshop and Wordpress interests: Smashing Magazine, Speckyboy, and Abduzeedo.

If you’re into new media and the future of publishing — Guy LeCharles Gonzalez gotcher back over at loudpoet.

Webcomics love? Then I demand you go and catch up on Clockworks, by Shawn Gaston.

Ich Bin Foodie

As I noted earlier, to my own shame, I have officially become a goddamn “foodie.” And, as noted, I went ahead and tried the Fresh Table Experiment, which worked out pretty well.

So, it’s been a good year for food. Farmer’s markets, ahoy. Found great restaurants around these parts — Bolete chief amongst them. I’ve eaten some new stuff this year, too — sweetbreads, eel, various other critters from the sea, grass-fed beef, and the many fantastic ice cream flavors at Owowcow.

I ate some kind of disgusting fruit in Hawaii that had the mouthfeel (and potentially the taste) of a peeled testicle.

You want food blogs, well, I can gently nudge you in the direction of frequent Bourdain cohort, Ruhlman.

If you live in and around the Lehigh Valley and want to lament the lack of ethnic restaurants, you’ll find that you’re wrong about that. The Beyond Scrapple blog takes you on an, erm, international local journey.

And, if you seek creative ways of putting together recipes or conceiving of ingredients — Cookthink is all yours. You can thank me later. … No, wait, thank me now. Preferably with comments. And money. And paeans sung to my lineage. And fruits. And chocolate. And hookers.

Looking Forward

Resolutions come tomorrow, ye impatient fackers. Come back then, and you’ll see my resolution — and yours. That’s right. I’ll be giving you your resolution for the year. And you’ll thank me for it.

Maybe that’s why nobody invites me to game anymore. It’s the pants thing. Or maybe the cakebeard?

Anyway. Over at Mob United, Malcolm Sheppard talks “next-gen” RPG experiences, and while perfectly awesome a notion, I can’t help but look down at my little iPhone buddy and see what he can’t do for me now at the game table. I mean, he’s such a perfect little pal. All black and shiny. Responsive to my tickling touch!

*pauses for a moment to make out with iPhone*

Okay. Back. *wipes mouth*

So, here’s my crazy thoughts on the usefulness of iPhone apps at the game table. The iPhone will never rule the gaming experience; it’s simply not comprehensive enough. But it can accentuate the process and maybe solve some niggling issues that I know I’ve had at the game table. Mind you, none of this is particularly revolutionary, but it pleases me to think about it. So you shut up. You shut up hard.

Evernote

Whether running a game or playing it, I am total pants at keeping good notes. Even the simplest note-taking for me looks like a suicide note written by a dangerous schizophrenic. Worse, even if I take good notes one session, I’ve no guarantee that they’re coming with me to the next session — I might’ve used them for toilet paper or to make origami boulders or something. And it helps to have consistent notes, because from session to session (especially if you go weeks between them) everybody’s always trying to get caught up. “What’s the cab driver’s name? Wait, wait, what did the Vampire Prince of Parties tell me? Didn’t we find out something about an Elf Gate where the Mayonnaise of Darkness is kept? Shit.”

So, I propose: Evernote.

Evernote lets you take persistent notes — notes that go wherever you have your Evernote account. Enter it into the iPhone at the table (text, voice, snapshot), and it’ll go with you to your PC or Mac at home (or right there at the table should a laptop be in play). Thus, it goes in reverse, too — in session-prep, you have a quick note or plot turn or character name, you just slap it into here and let it come back to you at the game table during a fast moment of recall. (Or, at your PC you think, “Hey, that website has some cool images, so I’m just going to bring them into Evernote so I can use them for reference at the table.)

Heck, you could even snapshot a character sheet, because Lord knows, peeps do lose their character sheets from time to time. No more of that, “I forget: did I have seven dots in Goblin Pastries, or seven dots in Clay Magic?”

Cost on that puppy is a big eff arr double ee. Free.

SimpleMind Mind Map App

Hey, if you say “Mind Map App” over and over again, you start to sound like the aliens from Tim Burton’s Mars Attacks. MIND MAP APP! MIND MAP APP!

Right. Moving on.

I am a whore for the mind map.

I expect soon that I will rely on mind maps to chart out even the simplest of decisions. “So, do I buy Vlasic pickles? Or Mt. Olive? Let’s mind map this shit as two branching paths. At the end of the one, Vlasic is a decrepit Romanian vampire who has been brined in spices and vinegar…”

At the game table, I can see mind maps being very, very useful.

First, you could use it for very simplistic maps, though you’re limited as you can’t draw lines between already-connected map bubbles. Still, for rudimentary dungeon-mapping, it might fly okay.

Me, though, I’d use it for planning. See, I don’t do a fuckbasket of prep for games. I do just enough, because I know the players are going to string up any plans I make and leave them hanging and drifting in a cold, merciless wind. Mind mapping gives you light and loose planning ability, and with the branching nature, you can play with outcomes-based plotting rather than The One True Way. Meaning, players take Path A and fight the Kobold Morgue Attendant, they gain access to Frankenstein’s Trampoline. Players take Path B, they make friends with the Kobold Morgue Attendant, and rocks fall, and everybody dies. Stuff like that. Not that a player group easily gives into crass dichotomies, but we’re talking rough planning, here.

Express version is free, though I bought the full version to access robust exporting features.

Draw Some Shit, Drawman

I know, they call drawmen “artists” these days. Me, I like drawman. Much clearer a term. Man Who Draws. Fucking language.

I can’t lie to you, I haven’t settled on a good specific app for this yet, but the point is this:

A good drawing program will help you immensely at the table, regardless of your art ability, or utter lack of it. I have the artistic ability of an epileptic ferret, but even still, this can be useful at the game table. Howso?

Ever need to draw a quick map of a room? “The Beast of Punxatawney is here. The vanity and dresser is here. The bed here. The secret cache of laser weapons is beneath this trap door. And you guys are here.”

Ever need a reference for a creature’s weaknesses? “The dragon’s balls — see them swinging? — dangle like low-hanging fruit. But they’re protected by a flared asbestos shield here. Four flanges. Is flange the right word? Fuck you, I don’t care. Flange. Four flanges. Eat it, suckers.”

You could use it to tick off Health, or magic points, or Willpower, or whatever. Instead of marking up your sheet with constant eraser marks (eventually wearing that precious hole in the paper), just a quick swipe on the ol’ drawing program to track resources.

You could use it to pass quick messages — you write, “I stab Martha in the face with a broken broomstick” in hasty scrawl and tilt the screen toward the gamemaster. He narrows his gaze at you, because “Martha” is a player, not a character, and then he quietly dials 911 on his iPhone while you break a broomstick over your knee.

Alternately, you could just be a jerk and draw penises all day.

What program to use? I dunno. Let’s start with free — Whiteboard serves as an easy, free app. Not fancy, but it does allow for some collaborative efforts, which has merit at the game table if other people have iPhones handy. It has a paid version that lets you do more robust editing.

Brushes is a favorite for people, though I don’t own it. It’s robust. It has layers. Some dude painted a New Yorker cover. Not awful for five bucks.

The Sketches app has some cool whiz-bang to it — you can sketch on maps, which is neat, and it looks like you can sketch on graph paper (which is doubly useful for gamers). Again, five buck-a-roos.

Google Maps

This one only really works in games played in the real world, but you could always use Google Maps to check driving times or basic maps. “How long will it take me to get to Fisherman’s Wharf to feed this body to the voracious seals that dwell there?”

Or something like that.

Again, it won’t work if you’re playing in the Kingdom of Furlandia or something. You can’t ask, “How long will it take me to fly my pteropelican to the Northern Bogs of Grimpernod?” I mean, you can ask it. Go ahead, ask it. But Google Maps won’t answer. It’ll stare balefully at you.

Dice Rolling Apps

I won’t comment on this one — I’ll let others talk that talk.

Your Input

You got an iPhone or other mobile device? What do you use at the game table? I know I’m missing some shit. Inform. Enlighten. Throw things at my head. Come on. I know you got it in you. Speak up. Don’t make me come over there.

I think you gotta go.

…

Please be aware — if you have a Wii, and you like that Wii, you can and should continue to enjoy it. I’m not trying to insult you by insulting something you like. Geeks do this thing where, if you don’t like something they don’t like, they take that disdain you placed on said subject and displace it so that the dagger’s tip is pointed right at their own hearts. I know they do it, because sometimes I’m guilty of it, too. (“You don’t like Army of Darkness? Quisling! Benedict Arnold! Die in a fire, Communist dog!”)

They also do this thing where, if they dislike something, they can’t understand how anyone would like it. (“Obviously, you are stupid, because somehow you find enjoyment in Stargate: Miami.”)

This isn’t that.

I have a Wii. I don’t think I want it anymore. You have a Wii? Please, continue enjoying it.

Moving on.

So. The Wii’s on the fast train out of Der Wendighaus, I think. Why is that? I bought it not long after it came out, stalking the Wii shipments at Gamestop the way a tribal hunter stalks gazelle on the veldt. The purpose was to buy it for my wife come Valentine’s Day. Once I found my prey, I speared its heart with a mighty debit card, and dragged it back to my lair. I lied to my wife, said I couldn’t find one. Then I put it in the middle of the living room, and I think I surrounded it in flowers or something. I fade in and out.

She was suitably surprised and impressed, and we spent the first many nights hip-deep in Wii Sports, swatting tennis balls or fake boxing. It was a blast. We created Miis and had them run around. A hoot. Of course, Wii Sports is great, but it’s really a thing without much depth, a thing you show to your grandmother and say, “Here, play, and please don’t shatter your hip on the backhand!” It’s a thing meant to reveal the full potential of this not-yet-fully-operational Death Star. (Really, though, Wii Sports is the manifestation of chasing the dragon: forever pursuing that awesome high, with each attempt falling just too short.)

We went out, then, to get more games.

I won’t go through the full list of games we’ve bought or rented (it includes some standbys, to be sure: Zelda, Paper Mario, Super Mario Galaxy), but let me now note for you a pattern:

None of these games wowed me. None of them begged to be played again and again. That’s not to say we did not enjoy these games, only to say their novelty wore off faster than I’d have preferred, and that lack of novelty often turned toward frustration. One of the problems was the fact that the Wiimotes, while cool, were imperfect. I’d try to do Mario’s spin attack, and half the time he wouldn’t do it, which ended in on-screen death and violent threats against my little white plastic buddy and against the TV, even though the TV was really just an innocent bystander in all this. The other problem was Nintendo. Nintendo as a company has a very strict mold for its games. All those 8-bit soundtracks and text bubbles waxes nostalgic… for about an hour. And then I wonder, why the fuck am I reading a video game? Listen. I like to read. I’m a book-learner. But being subjected to ceaseless rambling text bubbles in Zelda or Mario (bdddt, line of text, bddddt, line of text) started to wear on the brain.

That leads to a perhaps larger issue:

The Wii ain’t that robust of a game console.

I’m not a super-crazy graphics whore. I do not own a PS3 despite its shinier edge (though it calls to me, it calls to me in my dreams). I can still get into older games on my PC. I play games on my iPhone. And yet, I was getting higher-end games on my first-iteration Xbox than I was on the Wii. The Wii is basically a souped-up Gamecube with Wiimote attachments. That, paired with the fact that none of the games really felt knock-out-of-the-park…

The Wii took its first dormant period. The Xbox 360 saw activity every night. Maybe a DVD. Maybe an hour of gameplay. Maybe a track for Rock Band or a game preview or demo or whatever. The Wii slumbered. Cocooned, perhaps hoping to one day turn into a beautiful butterfly.

Then, two more options reared their heads for the Wii.

One, downloadable games.

Two, the Wii Balance Board.

Hot! Yes. The Wii’s second wind was a-coming. Butterfly, emergent!

Oooh, wait. Slam on those brakes, Earnhardt.

First, the downloadable games problem. Nintendo very clearly does not want you downloading games, even though they have made a growing catalog of old and new games available. Imagine, if you will, that someone tells you that they have made available to you an entire cupboard of delectable treats, and you can have those treats any time you’d like. However, getting those treats in hand (and thus, in mouth), you have to first solve a complex lockpicking test, and then punch yourself in the mouth three times while holding a roll of quarters. Getting games off the Wii’s downloadable service was an exercise in pain. Enter the credit card number. Re-enter the credit card number because you probably fucked it up the first time. Swap files off the memory card with the hard drive, because the Wii basically had the robust memory capacities of my Tandy 1000 SX from the late-80s. Punch self in mouth. Bleed. Cry. Play a game through a veil of tears.

That problem may be better by now. I dunno. What I know is that it was frustrating for a long time, and it soured me on that experience. Xbox Live makes it almost too easy to download stuff. I fugue out, and wake up in the same position — except I’ve downloaded like, ten Rock Band tracks I’ve never even heard of.

Second, the Wii balance board.

Ahh, balance board. You were almost enough to save the Wii. Thisclose.

But, say it with me: problems ensue.

Well, really one problem: I am not a small Japanese man. The balance board would like me to be. Or, at least, it would prefer I be a delicate lady with tiny feet. I don’t have huge feet, and I’m not a lumbering leviathan (“This toilet is too small for my tremendous buttocks! This cellular phone is lost in my cavernous ear canals! This world is not meant for me and my Nephilim friends! It is time to leave this place and find an ISLAND OF GIANTS!”), but the balance board felt too small for me. Wii Fit didn’t help. Wii Fit was another self-punching-mouth affair. I’d get on. It would yell at me and tell me I was a blubbering pasty grub. (I developed a habit of standing on it three times in a row for the fitness evaluation — you’d be amazed at how wildly the pendulum swung, offering three divergent readouts.)

I would exercise for 30-45 minutes, clicking through the exercises since you couldn’t program your own workout, and half of them were frustrating (jogging in place was cool, but the Wiimote’s imperfect functionality often had the software yelling at me, with my Mii running like his endocrine system was flopping between a meth-high and a quaalude-low), and given that we had to clear our living room of significant objects just to exercise, it once more added to the pile of frustrations the Wii has dealt us. Never mind that, despite a rather serious devotion to Wii Fit over the course of months, I barely lost any weight at all.

It’s since lain dormant for about seven months. I think spiders live there, now.

I understand that the Wiimote now has a more precise attachment. Bully for the Wiimote. That means I spend more money on a game system whose benefits lie in a ceaseless parade of half-functional peripherals. Mmmm. No.

So, what to do, what to do? Keep it? It looks nice by the television. Occasionally, it’s little mouth glows bright blue, filling our nighttime living room with the ambient glow of Japanese promise.

As pretty and as cute as it is, I just don’t know that I can justify holding onto it.

So, Wii. Unless you receive a reprieve from the governor, it’s a bullet in the back of the head for you.

You were very cute.

You just weren’t that fun.

Rest in piece.

Love, Li’l Chucky Wendig, Age 9 and Three-Quarters

Seems best to frame it from the perspective of, “Hey, I’m a writer. How has the iPhone in just a handful of days helped me as a writer?” Because it has. The iPhone is a beautiful creature. It’s handheld angel. It’s the Jesus Device. Literally, I can call Jesus on my iPhone. I can be like, “Hey, Jesus. This phone? Well done, man. That loaves and fishes kerfuffle doesn’t hold a candle to this pretty little lady. You’ve made magic. Hey, you up for some Coldstone Creamery? High-five. Let’s tweet about it first.”

But you don’t really want to hear about my personal relationship with iPhone Jesus. That is some proselytzation for another day. You want to hear about the cool apps I’m using to cover up my inadequacies as a writer!

I Want To Know Shit: Bunch of good reference-related apps for the iPhone. Wikipanion will get you a taste of the tricky Wiki. Then you have your Dictionary.com app to heighten your word-fu. Finally, you get the Google search app, which seems silly given that you can access Google through the web browser… that is, until you try the app. This was perhaps the first app that showed me how, in some ways, the iPhone is actually more robust than my own computer. In 30 seconds, I had downloaded a little piece of software that lets me speak my own voice into the phone and search for the words that just tumbled out of my mouth. It works. It works pretty flawlessly. It can’t understand when I speak my own name, of course, but then again the United States Postal Service can’t handle that onerous task either, and they have actual people working there, not Google Robots. But, if I tell my Google app to search for “monkey sperm,” goddamnit if it doesn’t do the job with a salute and a smile. Cost on all those apps? Free.

I Need To Say “Donkey Woman” In Lithuanian: Languages are fun. Sometimes, you need to know what a character might say in another language, or maybe you’re just looking for some weird fantasy name that ironically means something profane in Finnish. Codesign’s Free Translator app, which is free (duh), does the trick just fine. It has a ton of unexpected languages. Once more, it outdoes what  I can easily find on the web. (The answer is Magaraca zena, by the way.)

Because I Am A Font Whore: Fonts are cool. Typography makes me hot. It didn’t used to, but it does now, so get used to it. This app lets you snap a picture of a font (cover of a book, poster, tattooed above somebody’s ass crack) and it’ll send it back to its servers and in 30 seconds tell you what the font is, or provide you the closest approximations. Thank you, What The Font, from MyFonts. I am now an effective font whore. No more sloppy typographical prostitution from me. Free app.

I Have A Brain Like A Sieve: I started to use Evernote on my PC a week or so before actually getting an iPhone, so it was nice to already have a couple notes built up for me to access on the device. I’ll admit I haven’t yet cracked into the Full Potential of this piece of software; I keep floating around the edges, catching the occasional whiff of its robust aroma, but I can’t quite get my nose around how best to put it into play. You can smell its secret power: it lets you take voice notes, type notes, attach photos to notes, geotag your notes, and all of this stuff will sync to your PC so you can view the notes there (and vice versa, from PC back to the phone). Most best awesome-est of all? Free app!

Because Sometimes I Need To Loosen The Dirt: Brain gets gummed up. Story isn’t quite moving like you want it. You need to kick the earth, loosen the dirt, crumble the clay. Cleanse the colon. I dunno. It’s early, and I’m not done the first cuppa coffee. Anyway, point is, you have two options here. One is dumb. One is less dumb. Dumb is iStop Writer’s Block. I won’t lie, I didn’t download this. It’s only a buck, but the examples of plots and characters it generates are super-generic. If you’re incapable of generating these barebones notions for yourself, you should perhaps consider another line of work. Better — and weirder — is the Oblique Strategies deck. I was not familiar with this until one Mister Rob Donoghue pointed me toward it. Basically, it attempts to break a deadlocked situation with a curious statement on the flipped “card.” Made-up examples include: “What would a snow fox do?” or “Have you tried it without pants?” or even, “Excrete the problem.” Out of all seriousness, I was having a little mental block with a scene, so I tried this (free!) app. First two or three card-flips were too bizarre to be useful, but the third (something about converting ambiguities to specifics) actually helped jar loose the scree.

Because I’m No Tree Murderer: A total lie. I’ve killed a number of trees personally. Still, sometimes guilt drives you to do things you never thought you’d do, like read books on a little screen. I’ve got both the Stanza and Kindle e-readers, and both are great because they have a crap-ton of free content available (like Tim Pratt’s Blood Engines and an avalanche of public domain lit). Stanza has the edge in that it’s very customizable: you can change the fonts, the colors, the damn-near-everything. The book prices are higher than with the Kindle, though, so that’s a Kindle bonus. But, the joy is, these are fuh-ree, so you can download both! Last night before bed I read some of Pratt’s book, and I found it easy. But it’s also disconcerting. The lack of a book’s weight is weird. So too is the unfettered feeling — I feel like I’m reading in a dream, like I’ve lost perspective. Physical book products give us subtle clues: page numbers, the heft of the thing, the simple evaluation of how much of the book is left, and so on. So, it’s doable, but I’m not yet sold. Anyway, you’re a writer, so you need to be reading, and these apps will help. Free, free, free.

I Think Flowcharts Are The Future Past: It’s the hot thing. “Mind-maps.” It’s not a new thing, it’s an old thing, and they’re called motherfuckin’ flowcharts. And even then, “flowchart” was probably a made-up name for something that had existed before. I’ll admit that “mind-map” sounds cooler, like I’m scrawling the mad cartography of my thought-fertilized forest maze, but really, it’s a goddamn flowchart. I’d heard that a program called iBlueSky would do the trick, but the damn thing is eight bucks. Feeling cheap, I searched afield for something free, and I found a pretty good one: Simplemind Express. That scene above that I was having problems with? I was able to map it out with this software, and I felt pretty dang good about the outcome. And did I mention free? Free. Free like a pegasus on winds formed of angel farts. (I also mentioned it’s early. Shut up.)

I’m So High Right Now: Okay, this isn’t really a writer-specific app — or is it? Sometimes, a writer needs to trip his brain out and set his mind on a lunatic journey of cackling monsters and trippy beats and echoing grunt-whispers. RJDJ, baby. I dunno how to describe it. You put your earphones in your ears. You open up a “scene.” And then stuff happens in your brain. Many of these scenes play back the ambient noises in your environment in weird pseudo-musical ways. Some require you to touch the screen or tilt the device to gain further effectts. It’s an aural acid trip for those who don’t have any acid. And if you do have acid — well, I guess you’ve just doubled your value. Speaking of value, this puppy is free, free, free.

Thanks To: All the fine-feathered friends who commented on my first iPhone post and suggested some of these apps to me.

Final Notes: First, screw you, Wordpress, because you won’t let me use the lowercase ‘i’ in the blog title? Really? Really. Second, if anybody out there has further iPhone recommendations (for writers, or for anybody), I’m listening.

No, I didn’t buy a Mac, much as I’d love to fiddle with one.

As Cyborg-JFK once said on the digital shores of Binary Berlin, Ich bin iPhoneliner. Or something. I may have my history botched.

So, now that I have this whacko contraption, what do I do with it? My choices are so limitless, I’m almost paralyzed by them.

(I did already download and get my love on with Pandora.)

What free apps do I need? What paid apps do I need? What secrets don’t I know about this thing? What are the hidden downfalls and the unspoken bonuses? Is there an app that will remind me to wear pants? Help!

(Oh, and in closing: poor Kool-Aid. They are much-maligned with their supposed connection to Jonestown. Except, it wasn’t Kool-Aid at Jonestown. It was Flavor Aid. Just once, I wanna see the Kool-Aid Man come crashing through the wall and be like, “Oh Yeah! Flavor Aid causes murder-suicides in French Guyana! Oh Yeah!”