Childhood confession
An answer to the query, "Er, Dave, what are you going on about?"
by Dave McAwesomeOkay, confession time. Gather 'round.
I wanted to be Patton. Crazy, right? But there you have it. To satisfy this illogical desire as a kid, I got into G.I. Joe (to which many articles on this site can attest) and this other little thing called Warhammer 40,000 (WH40K or 40K for short)--a wargame involving all sorts of rules, little soldiers and absolutely no girls whatsoever.
These days, I got my priorities straight. Girls first. Nostalgia second. That nostalgia part includes breaking out the old books now and again, hunkering back in the couch, and sipping a dark, dark beer, blacker than midnight.
Unlike a lot of you sorry sods out there busy filing your TPS Reports and overpaying for vodka martinis because you're afraid your co-workers will mock you for ordering anything other than Grey Goose, I am not a fucking sheep (actually, I prefer 'shep' as the singular form of 'sheep'). So any of you rolling your eyes right now can go on about your sad little lives with your boring bullshit, your sycophantic quotes from Family Guy episodes, your 20-inch rims (come talk to me when you hit a pothole and crack your rim, jackass...one more thing, you're not entitled to have a high performance car if (1) you only drive to and from the nightclub and (2) you can't change your own goddamn motor oil. My car runs. I do all the basic maintenance on it. I have normal rims. I am better than you.), your fake tans, and your poser attitude. You poser. Growing up does not mean going to Peter Luger's and dropping Benjamins for a slab of beef. It's about not being a snot-nosed fucktard. Adulthood is not to be gained by the eradication of childhood. When you lose the endless questioning, curiosity and sense of wonder you cultivated as a child, you become a shep, a skittish and mindless drone who does nothing more than provide a meal when the wolves come to feast. Hanging on to the old goodies like G.I. Joe and Warhammer by writing about them on this site helps me retain that sense of wonder and lack of sheep-dom. Well, that and engaging the world in a question-everything, quasi-paranoid and Socratic fashion. You sheep will swallow ANYthing they feed you.
Ya gotta understand something. I've become too cynical to geek out on much of anything anymore. G.I. Joe? Yes. Breakfast cereals? Hell fucking yes. This Games Workshop stuff? They've created a dark, pseudo-gothic universe that's better than most of the crap in theaters. It's their universe (with many references to our own historical events, particularly the Roman, Dark Ages and Medieval times) and artwork that appeal to me. The game? Er, I ain't got time fer that, dude. There's beer to be drunked.
Here's an example of one of the many little scene-setting blurbs throughout their books: "Thought for the day: Faith grows from the barrel of a gun." Tell me that doesn't stir the 15-year-old, wanna-be-general deep inside your office-drone-type body.
In summary: Girls? Yes. Warhammer? Occasionally. Girls and Warhammer? Never.
