THE CONTROLLED EXPLOSION OF CARDBOARD: SU&SD Newsletter #66

­­­­

Tom: Thank you! Really, thank you. If you were at SHUX, you contributed to the most wonderful, affirming, powerful thing in a nearly 5,000 mile radius from my current location - which is quite the feat as I live about 5,000 seconds from a place that makes the best sandwich I’ve ever eaten.

I’d like to use this newsletter to share some highlights.

First, the games, and the people that played them. We walked past a table playing Panic on Wall Street which Quinns insisted I first spectate, and then have a go at rolling ‘The Dice That Determines The Stock Market’. I’ve never seen a table of people go from ecstatic to crestfallen so quickly as I personally tanked everyone’s bank balance. Apparently, those dice have sides that make the numbers get bigger? I somehow managed to roll in such a way that every number got smaller. I think people might have been legitimately angry.

There was a delightful moment where the entire hall erupted into various cheers and applause - the team presumed it was a proposal but, no, some folks just finished a marathon game of TI. It was heartwarming to see the Blood on the Clocktower folks so busy all weekend - a continual drip of excitable social deduction fans giving that huge tome a little try. I’m gutted I only got to experience a single round of Jonathan Ying’s excellent ‘Spot-It-Royale’ (or ‘Dobble-Royale’) - watching 20 or so strangers bond over the need to win.

­­­­­­­­

It’s just charming to be at a convention where people are excited about games, but they’re just as excited about people. We did a signing on the second day and I’d never signed anything before in my life before that point, so scribbling my signature on hundreds of things in a row was quite the introduction. What I remember, though, was a group of people who came up to the table, nattering like old friends. I’d asked where they’d all come from, and they told me they’d all travelled from different parts of the states. ‘Oh, so you’re used to travelling to meet up, then?’ ‘No! We just met yesterday!’ These people looked like they’d known each other for 24 years, not 24 hours! It felt special - like proof that people at SHUX were so trusting that anyone would help them have a good time. Even when not sitting down to actually play a game, people were excited to tell you about them - sharing stories and highlights, giving you the scoop on what might secretly be the next best thing, and pointing excitedly at what they’re desperate to try.

That attitude extended into the live shows, where everyone felt like they were there to enjoy themselves. Our shows were at many points disorganised, chaotic things that fell apart in all kinds of exciting new ways - but having an audience that truly has your back is absolutely essential for someone like me, who is generally quite uncomfortable clambering onto a stage (more on that in just a moment). I felt at ease for the first time during a live show, and that’s no mean feat - having a crowd of people with hearty, unique laughter for any one of our Quite Bad Jokes made being on that stage an absolute joy. They made me comfortable enough to ‘be myself’ onstage rather than try and ‘Go Presenter Mode’ as I often do, so, thank you.

And an even bigger thank you to the volunteers and expo hall folks who made the weekend actually possible! It warms my soul that people would volunteer so readily to do something that serves only to increase such daft joy; and I hope that people treated you well (I trust they did!) And I’m glad those folks meant we got to do a convention safely, how we felt it should be done. Yes, masks significantly change the ‘vibe’ of a convention in a tangible, if hard to entirely pin down way; but we felt it was the right thing to do. Every single person not only obliged us, they kept the ‘vibe’ as buoyant and energetic as if the masks weren’t there in the first place, they managed to create a convention that felt so normal - better than normal - in abnormal times. Thank you.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­

There was this great volume of pride that blossomed in that final show, that closing ceremony. Tears were not so much jerked as they were yanked by that wall of post-it notes where people scrawled their memories of the weekend. It’s all packed down in an instant - it’s a controlled explosion of cardboard that vanishes as soon as it arrives. And I got back home and I tried to explain to my partner about the whole thing and I just dissolved into tears, instantly. I couldn’t get words out about how much enthusiasm there was, because all of the language I could use was too saccharine, too true, too overwhelmingly positive to be taken seriously. But I was so serious - I was so jetlagged, I was so delirious, I slept for upwards of 16 hours solid afterwards! But I got every single emotion out of me in that one moment where I cry-laughed through an explanation of the most chaotic and excitable 72 hours of my life. Thank you.

It reframes your purpose in this hobby, both professionally and personally. Seeing that many people bonding over silly cardboard reminds me how much I owe to silly cardboard - how much my social anxiety and nerves are quelled by the presence of that silly cardboard, how silly cardboard has created or reinforced some of my most treasured memories and wonderful friends.

­­­­

I don’t want to clutter a space that’s intended to show off the work and feelings of others with my own personal guff - especially as the work of said others trumps any small thing we do for the show. But I will, of course, because it leads to more thank yous.

I’m really, really nervous. I’ve been told, lots, that it doesn’t come across that way - especially not in the highly edited videos that I put out for SU&SD, but it’s something I’ve come to really recognise about myself in recent years. ‘Nervousness’ or ‘Social Anxiety’ or whatever else you might want to call it retrospectively explains a lot of my odd behaviours and currently explains a lot of little tics and mannerisms that I won’t point out for fear of being noticed.

I once had to give a speech after receiving a little miniature award for a piece I wrote as a student. I choked out an ‘I’m bad at this’ and then immediately left the stage because I thought I was going to hurl. More recently, Quinns introduced me to one of his friends, a friend who seemed cool, and I spent my first 10-20 words of my introduction to them on babble, noise, not-words because I couldn’t hang on to what I was meant to do in a social environment. And at PAX Unplugged, faced with the prospect of doing my first live show in front of so many people - I was nervous to the point of being physically quite unwell. Before the show, I felt like I was having an actual fever, shaking, pale, queasy, yuck.

SHUX solved all that, and you can visibly see it onstage! I’m cosier than I’ve ever been before when presented with such kindly, helpful humans. But I’m now back, in a weird way, to being nervous about it all again. You’d think that’s silly! SHUX was great, I was fine, it was all good, NIGHTMARE SLAIN and all - but I think I only got to that state of ‘un-nerves’ because every single person caught me at any possible fall.

­­­­
SHUX reminded me not just that you people were there to catch you and help you and chill you out and stab imposter syndrome right through its barbarous heart, but also that outside of the live events, everyone has caught me digitally. Those first videos of mine were quite bad, my videos still make me cringe - but everyone being so eager to enjoy themselves, so invested in the channel, in boardgames… it creates this bubble of support that makes me feel deeply fortunate to be where I am - truly lucky, blessed, undeserving of such positivity. Seriously, thank you.

So what next? SHUX has filled me with a hell of a lot of energy. By the time this goes out to you folks, both the Stefan Feld City Collection video will be out, alongside a Turncoats review the week after. I think these videos are a good representation of how I want the site to continue over the next few months - a bit of that old, stable, good-time SU&SD feeling, and a bit of weird experimentation. Because I know that the folks in the comments, the folks in Vancouver, the folks who keep this site running, will catch me. Thank you.­­­­­­­­­­

What are we video games!  🎮

­­­­­­­

Tom: Straight off the back of that huge wall of text, it's time for Tom’s Destiny 2 Update!

I’m completely smitten with this game. I’ve gradually brought my friends into its orbit and we’re having an absolute blast, finally cresting the top of the systems wave into a plateau of ‘kind of understanding the whole’? But there’s always more to learn, always more to do! A deeply satisfying hangout spot for your favourite people who like Too Many Systems. There’s so much talk online about the game either being in a ‘great place’ or a ‘terrible place’, depending on who you ask, but for total newcomers that can put up with a steep learning curve it’s a joy to dig through so many years of ideas. We’ve started tentatively raiding and it’s exactly what I’ve been looking for in a co-operative experience - requiring genuine co-op and communication atop some fantastic set-pieces and soundtracks. Adore this big stinkin’ game.

On the side, I’ve blasted through The Case of the Golden Idol with my housemates - a delectable little point and click that’s completely moreish. Not the most challenging puzzles, mind, but a really joyous thing to interact with. I’ve also been setting some pretty lousy scores for HYPER DEMON - a fantastic sequel to Devil Daggers that will fry your brain if you look at it too long. Well worth checking out if you like shooters that are fast and psychedelic.­­­­­­­

What are we music!  🎵

­­­­­­­

Tom: I went back to a band who I listened to a lot when I was younger - Febueder - who have this jangly, shifty approach to pop that’s a treat to sink into. 'Lilac Lane' is a really good place to start with their (almost entirely singles-based) discography - the sumptuous little riff that kicks in a minute into Brazilia is real fucking groover. The new records from Alvvays, Khruangbin, and Dry Cleaning are relatively safe follow-ups from already solid artists - all worthy of a spin without being particularly revelatory. My real highlight this month has been the new Soft Pink Truth record - a decadent disco record that touches a dozen other genres across its hour-plus runtime. I don’t want to say any more, just whack it on when you have a spare 60 minutes and get BOPPIN.

Ava: TOM, you are so infuriating! As I was flicking down the newsletter I saw decadent disco and was about to jump in with The Soft Pink Truth, and you’ve beaten me to the punch!  I’ve been listening to Drew Daniel’s questioningly titled solo records since before you were born! (Well, since before you were in big school, at least).

The new one, ‘Is It Going To Get Any Deeper Than This?’ Is absolutely marvellous, and likely their finest work yet. I adore it. I’ve also been going back to ‘Shall We Go On Sinning So That Grace May Increase?’ - the earlier record is more contemplative, but utterly mind blowing from the right perspective. I can’t get enough of The Soft Pink Truth. (Not least because the names of everything they do are such a delight to say out loud).

­­­­­­­What are we watching? 📺

­­­­­­­

Ava: I fell back into the COVID hole, so have sadly had time to catch up with absolutely everything. ‘That nerdy shit’ is currently on really top form, with Rings of Power (excepting lacklustre opening and closing episodes) being ‘a lot better than I had imagined actually’, House of the Dragon being ‘better than anything Game of Thrones did, actually’ and even ruddy Andor proving to be ‘the most interesting Star War I’ve ever seen by quite a large margin’. It’d be facile to call the latter ‘Star (The) Wires’, but I’m going to do it anyway. A genuinely interesting meditation on the rise of fascism, and the horrific difficulties in resisting it. And then every few episodes there’s some shockingly good action sequence. The last two episodes have featured some absolutely throbbing techno and a pretty coherent lump of emotions about the need to dismantle the carceral state. I didn’t like the Mandalorian as much as most, and generally balk at the push for ‘grown-up’ Star Wars stuff. But if we can occasionally do more stuff like this, I’ll enjoy being surprised by it.

The real highlight of my sick leave though, was Brassic, a British sitcom that I’d passed by on the assumption it would be unkind to its stars, but actually paints a harsh, humane, hilarious and heartfelt look at ‘left-behind’ towns whilst also being very very silly. It’s filmed near my neck of the woods, and set in a fictionalised version of the town my aunt lives in (where the writer grew up). It was another thing that was not what I was expecting and I can’t wait for more.

­­­­­­­What are we reading? 📚

­­­­­­­

Ava: I’m still struggling with reading big stuff at the moment, so I think I’ve already told you about The Bullet that Missed (Richard Osman’s third cosy murder club) and recent podcast guest Tim Clare’s Coward, which are two tabs I currently have very much open. I’ve also got a hundred RPGs to read and the Ludocrats trade just arrived, and I still haven’t finished DIE and oh my word, I really need to never look at twitter again, and just read books please.