WIL WHEATON dot NET: 1.5

Felix (my cat) and Riley (my dog) are laying face to face in a shaft of sunlight on my living room floor as I write this. It's not a very wide beam of light, and I Felix wants to be in the sun more than he wants to be left alone by the puppy. It's incredibly cute, and I thought I'd share.

On the way to school today, Nolan and I were caught in some annoying traffic on a major street. While we sat and waited for a light to change, he looked out his window, and pointed at an alley that lead away from the traffic jam.

"Why don't we go down that alley?" He said.

I pointed at a moving truck that was blocking it about halfway down. "Because we won't make it past that truck," I said.

"Well, let's just drive right into it, and hope we respawn on the other side!" He said.

"I don't think that would work," I said.

He frowned for a second and looked back at me.

"You're right," he sighed, as we started to creep forward. "With our luck, the respawn point is probably behind us."

I laughed. "We're kind of geeks," I said.

"Yeah," he said, "but that's okay."

Parents always hope to see a little bit of themselves in their kids, and as a stepparent, I've always wondered if Ryan and Nolan will pick up anything from me. It's been a challenge, because I don't want to force myself on them in any way, and their dad has worked pretty consistently to marginalize my influence, and minimize my position in their lives . . . but over the last year or so, Ryan and Nolan have come to me. They've made efforts -- entirely on their own -- to close the gap between us. After almost ten years, I feel like they're truly accepted me into their lives. They've picked up my interests, my humor, my sense of duty to Truth and my fundamental belief that we should always be giving without expecting anything in return.

It's wonderful when I see Nolan stop to help a kid at school, or see Ryan take the time to do something kind for his brother or mother, just because he loves them. They may not carry my DNA, but they carry my spirit, and that's far more important.

It was a silly little thing, Nolan geeking out with me about respawning this morning, but there was something unspoken between us, something that I can't quantify or describe in words. It was something I just felt in my soul, and it was one of those important waypoints on our journey together that I don't want to ever forget.

I've got an audition this morning, and a meeting at lunch, plus I've got workers coming to tear out some bushes (heh. I'm working on that this Tuesday, too) and trim up one of my trees, so I don't know if I'm going to get Dallas up by the end of today. That story has taken on a life of its own, and I don't want to rush it out. I think I'm going to put some of the Linucon report into that post, too, even though it's almost as big as Texas already.

Chris The Film Geek has a great recap of the signing at Borders last Sunday, though, that I encourage you all to go read. I'll fill in my thoughts whenever I finish the Texas oddessey.

This is probably it for this week, so have a great weekend and a safe All Hallow's Eve, everyone.

Posted by Wil at 09:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (64)

It's raining pretty hard over my house right now, which isn't that big a deal, except we rarely get interesting weather here in Pasadena . . . but right now it's a full-on Arizona-style thunderstorm, complete with bright flashes of lightning, explosive claps of thunder, and sheets of water falling from the sky so heavily, I can't see across my street.

Actually, as I write this, I'm sitting in my kitchen, watching garbage cans float down the gutter in front of my house. Good thing I left my cans up on the sidewalk this morning, just in case.

I'm putting the finishing touches on the Dallas recap. It should post within 24 hours.

. . . and in the time it's taken me to write this and preview it, the rain has completely stopped. I just opened the window and all I can hear is the ferocious rushing of water down the street, and the drip drip drip of the downspout on the garage.

Cool. :)

Posted by Wil at 03:02 PM | Permalink | Comments (52)

"If you are specific about your goals, and put yourself in a place where your

good luck can do you some good, the universe will absolutely conspire to make

your dreams come true."

— My Mom, when I was a little kid, at a time when I was actually paying attention.

You were right, Mom, about more stuff than you could possibly imagine. I love you.

Posted by Wil at 01:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (53)

Several months ago, I did an interview for a show called The Technofile, hosted by a guy named l a z l o w. Now, anyone who has played Grand Theft Auto 3 or Vice City knows that is a big part of both those games, so when I called him for our interview I was able to keep it together for about 75 seconds before I blurted out, "Oh man, I have to tell you how much I love Vice City, especially the soundtrack, and it's just super cool that I get to talk with you!"

He was very gracious and endured my fanboy explosion, and we did our interview. When we were done, we chatted a little bit more, and somehow the topic of GTA: San Andreas came up. One thing lead to another, and lazlow asked me if I would be interested in being a caller on one of the radio stations.

I just about crapped my pants, and told him that I LOVE the GTA games, and I'd do any part at all just so I could be part of San Andreas. He told me that he'd bounce some ideas around, and get back to me about it.

A few weeks later, he called and offered me a part as a news reporter in the game. Of course I accepted, and back in summer, I got to spend the better part of an afternoon in a sound booth, bringing the character of Richard Burns to life. It was some of the most fun I've ever had, because lazlow, just like the producers of GR2, worked with me, and encouraged me to take some risks, improvise a little bit, and really push the limits of what we could get away with.

It's super cool, man! Richard Burns is one of those characters that most people would probably say I couldn't play, and most studios would have probably dismissed me out of hand, but lazlow believed in me, and took a big chance on me . . . and apparently it's paid off, because about a month after I did my sessions, lazlow called me, and told me that he'd played my bits for some very important people at Rockstar Games, and one of the Really Big Important Dudes said something like, "I love Richard Burns!"

I haven't been able to talk about this since I recorded it, because I signed an NDA. I haven't discussed the details of my scenes with anyone, not even Anne or the kids, and none of my friends even knew that I was in it at all. Matter of fact, the only person who knew about it was my brother, and that's because he's also a talented voice actor who has a cameo on the game. But even when we talked about it, I couldn't discuss specifics with him, and we kept calling it "The Project."

It has been killing me to keep this to myself, because being in GTA: San Andreas is like being in Empire Strikes Back, but Rockstar was obviously very concerned about protecting the story, and I respect that. However, since it's come out today (and it already breaking sales records, apparently) I can do the excited geek dance right here on WWdN --> w00000t!

As an actor, I always want to be part of projects that I am proud of, that I can confidently tell my friends about, and that doesn't happen very often . . . I can't believe that I get to be part of what is already being called "the single best title on the PS2 [the reviewer has] ever played."

Again, I say: w00000t!

Posted by Wil at 09:01 AM | Permalink | Comments (113)

I stopped watching SNL years ago, because . . . well, because it's thirty-five different kinds of sucks.

So I missed the whole Ashlee Simpson thing, until I read about it at daypop or blogdex or something earlier today. The Internets are abuzz with people slamming Ashlee Simpson, but I don't think that's the real story. I mean, anyone who is surprised that Ashlee Simpson would be lip synching on SNL (or any other time, really) would probably be surprised to learn that the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park were fake.

(I hope I didn't ruin Jurassic Park for anyone . . . but if I did, the secret is to bang the rocks together, guys.)

The real story, if you ask me, is more about SNL, and how it traded Andy Kaufman for Andy Dick. The real microscope shouldn't be focused on Ashlee Vanilee Simpson, but should be focused on SNL, which used to be a reliable source of biting commentary and satire, but is now just another predictable, corporate, unimaginative stop on the flavor of the month's publicity tour.

Tony Pierce, who keeps one of the greatest blogs on the planet, nailed the demise of SNL perfectly:

saturday night live used to be counterculture. it used to be punk rock. but it hasn't been punk rock in decades and the other night night just put the last nail in your coffin. and good riddance i say. you are the establishment. you should do your lame open, show the cartoon, do weekend update, show the band, and get off the shitter. but you hate us. thats why you keep doing all this bad tv.

i know you hate us because you hired ashlee. thats not love. the highlight of most of the episodes of snl used to be the musical guests.

david bowie singing in a sarcophagus.

i remember the stones being on there, the dead, the replacements.

why don't you take what happened saturday night as a hint that your show has jumped the shark. that you're too old that you don't care any more what is counterculture to america and the best way to realize that is by having jude law host and ashlee simpson "sing".

Bingo, Tony.

B-I-N-G-fucking-O.

afterthought: I wasn't clear when I posted this last night: If I had declared that the show was a pile without having watched it at all for years, I would have earned a special "asshat" badge. When I said that I haven't watched SNL in years, what I meant was I haven't gotten in front of the TV every Saturday night at 11:35 pm and stayed there until 1 am, rocking with laughter at the show. What I meant was, there used to be a time when something big would happen in the news, and I'd turn to my friend Dave and say, "Man, I can't wait to see what SNL does with this!" What I meant was, several times over the last few years, I've tuned in for at least the first 15 minutes (where they usually put their strongest material), and I've found it to be the opposite of funny, clever, or entertaining. But that's just my opinion, and if you :heart: the show, I'm not going to argue with you about it. Finally, I am certain that the writers and actors on SNL are all talented, dedicated people who work as hard as they can to produce a great show, but it sure seems like the network won't let them push the limits like they once did. That is what I meant by corporate and unimaginative.

And I know that Tony Pierce has said some unkind things about me in the past. He's still a great blogger, and everyone should still read his site. If you doubt me, check out his photo essays. They're incredible.

Okay. Now go watch Kids In The Hall. Seriously.

Posted by Wil at 08:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (111)

Home from Dallas. It's cool but weird that I can travel over 3000 miles in under 24 hours. The world really is getting smaller.

High point: One of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen told me: "You are seriously hot."

Low point: I had to rush through about 40 people because I had to race to the airport to make my plane yesterday.

Most annoying point: There was a window-washing scaffolding hanging against the wall outside my hotel room, and when the wind kicked up around 6am yesterday, the cables started to whack against the wall so hard it shook the "artwork" the hotel had hung on it. It was impossible to go back to sleep, so I got to enjoy the entire day on 5 hours of sleep.

Absolute favorite moment in the last 72 hours: When my plane took off from Dallas yesterday evening, we climbed up through fluffy orange clouds and flew toward the setting sun, which painted the entire city below us pink and gold.

Much, much more to come later . . .

Posted by Wil at 08:37 AM | Permalink | Comments (72)

I'm playing in the Poker Bloggers Tournament tonight at Poker Stars. It's 20 +2 NLHE, and anyone who is interested in playing or watching should go read Iggy for details.

I came in second in a tourney in Austin, and I've been playing fairly well in ring games recently (even though my pocket aces got cracked night before last and cost me 40 bucks in a 2-4 game . . . goddamn paired board), but I'm pretty sure I'm dead money in this tournament. Iggy is going pro, and the other bloggers I'm facing have a lot more tournament experience than I do, but if I get to drop The Hammer at least once, I'll be happy.

Tomorrow I fly out to Dallas for the Dallas Comic Con on Saturday, and then I fly back home on Saturday night so I can do my Borders book signing on Sunday. I hope some locals can make it to both events.

Final thought for this morning: If the World Series is half as good as the League Championship Series, it's going to be a great final week of baseball.

Posted by Wil at 08:11 AM | Permalink | Comments (78)

It's raining outside while I write this. Our whole house smells like punkin pie, cinnamon sticks and apple cider (thank you, Illuminations) and I'm listening to The Astrud Gilberto Album from Verve (I give it a thousand stars and fifteen thumbs up) while I write my next two columns for Dungeon.

Yesterday afternon, I recorded a ton of lines for a video game that is so super secret, it hasn't even been announced yet! It was really fun, and I can't wait to tell WWdN readers about it.

Last night, I saw a poster for Ghost Recon 2 in a local game store, and I asked the clerk when it would come out.

"Ghost Recon Two is going to be the best game EVER!" He said, and he said it with such unabashed enthusiasm, I blurted out, totally in spite of myself, "Dude! I know! I'm totally in that game! It's going to be so cool!"

It was so cool to hear someone being so excited about a project I was in, without knowing I was in it . . . I just wanted to geek out with him, but I immediately felt like I was showing off, you know? Like, "Hey! Pay attention to me!" Before I could explain that I wasn't trying to be a dick, he said, "I thought I recognized you. Can I shake your hand?"

I've never had someone ask me that before, that I can remember, so I nodded and shook his hand. I still felt like a dick, though, and I was so embarassed I left pretty quickly.

When I got home, I tried to stay up and watch Las Vegas, but I guess I'm still wiped out from the weekend, because I fell asleep before it was over. When I woke up, Anne was snuggled into my shoulder, my cat Sketch was snuggled into my side, and Ferris was snuggled into my feet. Yes, it was Snugglefest 2004 on my bed, and I had to disturb everyone to turn off the lights and blow out the candles.

Later this afternoon, I have an audition over at Disney for a new cartoon. It's SUPER cool, because the casting people specifically requested me from my agents! When I haven't been working on Dungeon today, I've been working on my "feisty, spunky and fun male 16-20" voice.

This is shaping up to be a really good day, and I just remembered something I told Anne about a month ago: "You know what's cool? I feel like I'm exactly where I am supposed to be in my life. I feel content, but not complacent. That's awesome."

I'm making notes about Linucon right now, and I'll try my best to get a trip report together soon.

Posted by Wil at 12:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (79)

Quick announcement: This Sunday, the 24th of October, I will be appearing at the Grand Opening of a brand new Borders in the Santa Anita Mall.

Check out what Borders says on their website:

Join us for a discussion and signing with this ever-popular actor turned writer. Despite early stardom in the motion picture Stand By Me, and his role as Wesley Crusher on Star Trek: The Next Generation, Wil left Hollywood in pursuit of happiness on an extended hiatus from acting to write full time. In his newest book, Just a Geek, Wil shares his deeply personal and difficult journey to find himself with stories that reveal an honesty and disarming humanity.

I'll be reading from and signing Just A Geek, and Dancing Barefoot, and I'll do my best to read fast, so I can take questions. Also, if you're a WWdN reader, I'll have a few "WWdN Monkey" ribbons that are leftover from Linucon, and a couple of the "Heart of the Anomaly" cards for Star Munchkin, too.

I'm really looking forward to this event -- I grew up about 20 miles away from this mall, and I used to go there often when I was a kid, so I feel like I'm closing the circle here, this time as a "local" author.

The weekend was awesome. I started out with some ADR work on Teen Titans Friday morning, for Titans East Parts One and Two . . . holy shit. It's not secret that I love Teen Titans, and it's no secret that I'm fiercely proud of my work there . . . but holy shit holy shit holy shit. The episodes just keep getting better and better, and this story arc is the best I've been in so far. It's dark, it's a little scary, and the animation is SO FREAKING COOL! I actually had my very first "cool, dry superhero" line on Friday. I got to say, "Something tells me you guys don't like water . . ." right before I . . . uh, I mean, Aqualad does some seriously cool superhero stuff. I can't wait to see this episode when it airs.

Friday afternoon, I went over to the set of a movie to do some research for a magazine article that I'm writing — yeah, you read that correctly: I get to write a magazine article! I can't say anything more than this: I'm entering some new territory with this piece, and it's going to totally rock when it's done.

Friday night, Anne and I took the kids to Knott's Halloween Haunt. She and I have gone almost every year for the last decade, and I've been going since I was 14 . . . but it's the first time we took the kids. It was super cool, because they're old enough to have fun getting scared in the mazes, but not too old to be embarrassed about going with their parents. We didn't get home until after 2 a.m., and we all slept until 10 on Saturday.

Saturday was another big day, because Ryan was going to his very first High School dance Saturday night. He had been excited about it for three weeks, but I wonder if it was as important to him as it was significant to me and Anne . . . I remember when Ryan's feet couldn't touch the floor when he sat at the dinner table. We drove him and his friends, and they all had a great time. Again, we finally got into bed after 2am.

Sunday we slept as late as we could, and spent the day cleaning our house. Sunday afternoon we watched Nolan play in his basketball league, and by dinnertime last night, we were all ready to fall asleep!

I was able to stay awake until about 9:30, but I was so wiped out from the weekend, I fell asleep during the ALCS. That's a pretty big deal, since I'm a huge baseball weenie. I'm hoping for a Red Sox / St. Louis World Series, if you care about that sort of thing.

So it was a great weekend, and I can't believe that it's already 9am on Monday. I'm off for some voice over auditions, then I'm actually working on a game this afternoon. I don't think I'm allowed to say what it is, yet, but it's an established title in a successful franchise. It should be extra fun.

updated: Whoops. I keep forgetting to mention this: the audition I had a few weeks ago was for CSI:Miami. I did a *really* good job, and I probably would have booked it, but they changed the part from male to female. When my manager told me that, I said, "Well, can I go back there in a wig and a dress?"

"We're not quite to that point in the career, Wil," he said.

Har. Har. Har.

Posted by Wil at 09:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (80)

When I was in my early twenties, I fooled around with writing different things: slam poetry, short stories, essays about the things that are important to a guy in his early twenties . . .

Soul Coughing, William Burroughs, Hunter S. Thompson, my friends Dave and Dave, and a bar called The Two of Clubs all combined to inspire me . . . but nothing I wrote back then was any good.

This week, I've been listening to far too much Soul Coughing (as if there is such a thing!) and it's inspiring me again. I feel this mixture of inspiration and compulsion well up inside me -- I actually feel it press out against the inside of my chest -- and I want to write a smoky, whiskey-soaked story about a guy who gets into a lot of trouble.

Tonight, I was listening to Ruby Vroom right after I dropped Ryan at baseball practice. I drove home straight into the setting sun, and I heard this character in my head say, in an exhausted voice, "I wondered if I could drive fast enough to catch the Sun, and I didn't mean chase it around the world. I meant drive right into the heart of that motherfucker, and melt. I looked into my rearview mirror, and pressed my foot into the floor."

I don't know how that guy got there, and I don't know what the scratch mark will reveal when it traces across the surface of my mind, but it's going to be interesting to look.

Posted by Wil at 09:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (57)

I forgot to mention this until just now: On Saturday the 23rd of October, I'm going to be at the Dallas Comic-Con at the Plano Center, in fabulous Plano, TX. I'll have copies of Just A Geek, Dancing Barefoot, and the last few preview CDs for the audio book version of JAG. For all you Munchkin players out there, I'll have a very few "Heart of the Anomaly" cards, as well.

Posted by Wil at 08:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (47)

wil wheaton!!!

photo by: ilisu

for wendy
who lead me to this book

So let me explain what is going on here: Wendy is a friend of mine, and she sent me a note that this sweet girl had my book, and posted about it on her buzznet moblog.

I thought it was too cool for words that someone was so excited to have my book, they took a picture of themselves with it!

buzznet has this new premium feature where you can add anything from a buzznet blog to your own blog using xml-rpc, and I thought this was as good an image as any to try it out.

Neat!

Posted by Wil at 06:57 PM | Permalink | Comments (23)

It sounds like lots of people have been tuning into the stream of my performance from Gnomedex, and enjoying it. That rules!

There was a suggestion in the comments from the last post that I should do each chapter live, and put the whole thing together into a collection of "live" performances. My friend Jim actually suggested something like that to me about a year ago, and I've been planning to do it with Dancing Barefoot. The plan is to set up four performances down at the ACME theatre (two a night for two nights) and then cut together the best stuff. The results of that recording will be "Dancing Barefoot -- Live" or something spiffy like that.

I know I've mentioned the Just A Geek audiobook before, but it's almost finished! David Lawrence has been helping me produce it, and we're about 50% completed. I'm working on it some more tonight, right after I'm on The David Lawrence Show. (David and I are going to talk a lot of politics and stuff, which should be interesting because we agree on most things, but sharply differ on others.)

I just started Sean Astin's book, and even though I'm only 18 pages into it, I am having a hard time putting it down. Wouldn't it be cool if Sean and I did some book signings and things together? When I finish his book, I'm going to call him and suggest it.

Posted by Wil at 05:09 PM | Permalink | Comments (84)

Linucon trip report is in the works, but it was honestly such an amazing weekend, I'm having a very tough time picking out just the highest of the high points.

Until it's finished, though, I've got something that I think WWdN readers are really going to like:

IT Conversations has put up the audio of my reading from Just A Geek and Dancing Barefoot at Gnomedex!

Quoth the website:

You may know him for his portrayal of Cadet Wesley Crusher in Star Trek: The Next Generation, but inside the skin of an actor is a geek trying (successfully) to get out. He's the author of the weblog, WilWheaton.net, and two books: Dancing Barefoot and Just a Geek. In this presentation recorded at Gnomedex 4.0, Wil reads original unexpurgated excerpts from his books, takes questions, and sits down for an interview with IT Conversations. It was one of the highlights of the weekend. Guaranteed to entertain, whether you're a Star Trek fan or not. This is Part 1 of 2.

The audio is outstanding, but it's not the best performance I've ever done (that honor is currently assigned to my performance at Linucon.) As I've mentioned before, I was terrified when I went up there, and I can hear the tension and apprehension in my voice as I try to connect to the audience . . . but about thirty minutes in, I think I got more comfortable and hit my stride. I'll post part two when it's out.

The entire performance is released under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.0 license, so please, please, please share it with people.

I'd love to hear feeback from anyone who tunes in.

UPDATED: In the comments, tsu points us to Part Two. Cool! Thanks, tsu!

Updated again: There is also Video of the performance (.wmv) available as a torrent file (mpeg is on the way, apparently. Sweet!)

Posted by Wil at 10:26 AM | Permalink | Comments (63)

I just got home from Austin, and one of the greatest, superest, funnest, most bestest weekends I've ever had in my life.

I'm on about 4 hours of sleep, and my day started twelve hours ago, though, so I'm gonna go fall down for a little while. I'll put up a trip report as soon as I can get my shit together.

Posted by Wil at 01:46 PM | Permalink | Comments (74)

Since I'm already going to be in Austin for Linucon, O'Reilly got together with Bookpeople and the Alamo Drafthouse, and we're doing what could possibly be my favorite event of all time: A reading and signing from Just A Geek, plus a screening of Stand By Me, followed by a Q&A. All that stuff that I would have put on the commentary track if they'd let me record one? Yeah, I've got that.

Posted by Wil at 07:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (142)

I left my house at noon on Thursday, and when I finally arrived in Lake Tahoe eight hours later, I was road weary and tired . . . but not too tired to have dinner with my friends, and then play poker at Harveys.

I felt pretty confident when I sat down at the 3-6 table, and I played well. I'm saving the details for the poker book (yeah, yeah, I know) but the best hand of the night came near the end. I held KK, and came out betting the whole way . . . especially after a king came on the flop. There was only one player left with me when we saw a seven on the turn, and when the river was a deuce, I thought "THE HAMMER!" to myself with a chuckle.

I bet the entire way, got called, and showed my cowboys. The other player nodded, and flipped over . . . THE HAMMER! No shit. I laughed so hard they must have thought I was insane. "Way to drop THE HAMMER," I said, but only got a blank look back.

(For just about everyone who has no idea what I'm talking about: The poker bloggers came up with a term for 7-2 off suit, the worst pocket cards you can get in Hold'Em: The Hammer. They say that if you can play The Hammer and push someone out who has queens or kings or something, you've "dropped The Hammer." In an online game, I recently dropped The Hammer . . . when the flop came 7-7-2, giving me a full house. Rock.)

I took a vicious beat at the end of the night, when my ace-high diamond flush got beat by Jacks full of deuces, (my fault: the board was J-2-x-x-2, and I was so happy to make the flush I didn't think about the possible full house . . . even if the deuce was the only card that could both make my hand and beat me) but I still left $24 ahead. When I cashed out, I wondered if I'm destined to leave with under $30 profit everytime I play (turns out the answer is no, but more on that later.)

I slept terribly, mostly because I was away from my family, but also because I was so nervous about speaking on Saturday. I woke up several times during the night with that "racing anxiety brain" that I used to get before I started production on a movie, and my only real solid sleep was between nine and eleven in the morning. Ouch.

That nervousness never went away, and I was scared out of my mind when I took the stage at Gnomedex. I'm always uncomfortable around real bloggers who have been doing this longer than me, and didn't know if the attendees would appreciate me reading from my books, rather than giving some talk about whatever the future of something or other would be . . . but reading from my books is sort of what I do best right now, and Chris Pirillo told me that he was confident a reading would go over well, so that's what I did.

I mostly read from Just A Geek, with some commentary thrown in (which is how my audiobook is shaping up.) I started with a brief history of WWdN, and talked about how this website changed my life. Then I read some stuff from Spongebob Vegas Pants, which I think is funny, and finally The Wesley Dialogues, which I think was a pretty important moment in my journey. I finished with the WFS story from Dancing Barefoot because it makes me laugh.

Now, here's something that I think is really cool: My entire reading was audio and video taped, so anyone with a computer (and probably broadband) can see what my song and dance looks like. I released the entire performance under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.0 license, too! For the geeks, that means you can seed it in Bittorrent all you want (and I actually hope you will!). For the nongeeks, that means that anyone can copy it and share it with anyone else, as long as you don't modify it or make money off it. I haven't been able to find the files just yet, but as soon as I know, I'll post links.

I'd say that I mostly didn't suck. I listened to a bit of it, and I can hear how nervous I am, though my friend Kathleen told me that I settled down and hit my stride about 15 minutes into my thing.

I did *not* feel that way, though. I really cared about doing a good job, because I felt like I was talking to peers, rather than fans. What I mean by that is, "fans" are usually more forgiving when I screw up, or don't give the best performance or whatever, but "peers" tend to sit back and wait for me to earn their time and attention. It's the difference between playing in front of the home town crowd or doing an exhibition game in a town where nobody knows what to expect. Because of that, and because I was so terrified of sucking, it was really difficult to know if they were "with me" or not. There was definately laughter in many places, but when I looked out into the audience, I honestly couldn't get a read on them. There were a lot of arms folded across chests, and I felt like most of the room was just waiting for me to do something stupid, but nobody walked out, and I've since been told that the silence I mistook for disinterest or hostility was actually most of the audience digging my thing.

Heh. "digging my thing." Cool. Jozjozjoz posted a round up of people from the audience got their blog on while I was performing which was both cool and weird at the same time. Until you've actually read someone's blog moments after they've posted it . . . FROM ACROSS THE ROOM . . . you may just have to take my word for it.

Anyway.

I only attended Gnomedex on Saturday, and I counted about 250 people . . . but the concentration of talented, interesting, cool, and influential people rivals that of any other place I've ever been . . . and I once went to the White House. The panels I saw didn't blow me away like I thought they would, but it didn't matter, because the conversations between the movers-and-shakers on the panels and the movers-and-shakers in the audience were incredible and informative. I felt like I was in on these talks where people were deciding what The Next Big Thing is, and I could have tossed my voice into the mix if I had anything relevant to say.



Also, because the crowd was smallish, it was easy to get "Face Time" with any of the aforementioned people, and they were all genuinely interested in talking with each other . . . and me. I'd link people, but that sort of feels like starfucking, so I'm going to pass on that.

Saturday night, my nervous stomach prevented me from eating more than breadsticks at the dinner where we got to listen to a great presentation all about the future of My Yahoo. Now, I've dug on My Yahoo since about 1997 (and they're going to have me do a "Celebrity My Yahoo" page, as soon as I get my shit together and send them back the forms) so I already thought it was the cool . . . but the beta is teh r0ck. I'm gonna put one of those "add to my yahoo" buttons on this site when I do a minor redesign in the next few weeks.

After dinner, I went to Harveys and played poker with some fellow geeks, two total fucking tools (who none of us knew -- hazzard of casino play, I guess), and two really nice guys (who we also didn't know -- another hazzard of casino play) [Yes, I know that I spell Hazard with two "Z"s, because I love them Duke Boys.] The game was the most enjoyable I've ever had (at one point, I had to hold my stomach, I was laughing so hard) but it's too much to recount here and now. I'm going to give it its own story in the future (dont' worry, I've got notes.)

I drove home with my friend Kathleen. We stopped at every rest area so I could pee, and she helped me put together the foundations of my keynote at Apachecon next month. If I was scared shitless to speak at Gnomedex, I am scared to death to speak at Apachecon. I'm not going to do a reading, it's going to be more of a philosophy about the future of something (har) and since Kathleen does that sort of thing all the time, she was able to help me out. It's a good friendship test to spend 8 hours together in the car, and we passed. Cool.

I'm writing this at 4pm on October 6th, and I have to leave in less than 24 hours to go to Austin for Linucon. I think it's going to be a great con, and I am really looking forward to it, but man . . . I absolutely HATE being away from my family. I hate not sleeping in my bed, I hate being away from my dogs, and I hate sitting on airplanes. It's really tough to keep focused on what a great time I'll have when I'm there, when there is so much stuff HERE that I will miss . . . but going to Gnomedex has eased that pain quite a bit. If Linucon is half as fun as Gnomedex was, I'll be a happy guy.

Posted by Wil at 05:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (43)

Based on the hate mail that's currently pouring into my inbox, someone has impersonated me on a Rodney Dangerfield website and said some pretty horrible things.

I don't have any details, but I want to get this out RIGHT NOW: I thought Rodney Dangerfield was a brilliant comic, loved his work (especially in Caddyshack) and I mourn his passing along with everyone else.

If someone could let me know exactly what it is I'm alleged to have said, I'd like to know so I can take a crowbar and a blowtorch to find out who did this and clear it up.

Gnomedex report is almost done, and should be up in about two hours.

Update: Found it. In the guestbook on Rodney Dangerfield's official website, someone posted an absolutely disgusting comment under my name. I won't reprint it here, but if you want to see, follow the link.

Jesus Christ, man. Some people are so fucking stupid, it's beyond words.

(Thanks to WWdN reader Brian who found the link.)

Posted by Wil at 01:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (89)

Evan Williams, one of the founders of Blogger, is moving on to new things in his life.

Way back when I had my lame Geocities site, I asked loren how I could add a blog like his to Where's My Burrito, and he directed me to Blogger. Back then, I was a total noob (unlike the partial noob I am now) and everything online scared the shit out of me. But Blogger was really easy to understand, and allowed me to put what was in my head online without having to waste time and energy worrying about technology.

So I guess what I'm saying is, without Evan (then Noah Grey, then Domesticat, and now Ben and Mena Trott) there would be no WWdN, and I wonder if I would have ever examined my life the way I have.

That means more to me than I can put down here, so I'll just say thank you, Evan, and good luck. You made a difference in my life, and I know that I'm not the only one.

Posted by Wil at 11:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (29)

I recently did an interview with Forces of Good dot Com where I talked about Just A Geek, WWdN, and some other stuff, and it hit the site today:

Do you now think of yourself as an actor who writes or as a writer who acts?

It depends on what I'm doing on a given day. When I have worked on shows recently, I have to consciously focus myself on acting, because I when I am A Writer, I am constantly recording things: what a room looks, feels, and smells like; how I react to something someone said and how they said it, etc. It's vital for actors to live moment to moment, and react to everything naturally. As a writer, I am constantly looking at the bigger picture, and mentally filing away important details so I can recall them later. Right now, I am a writer who acts. Ask me in a year, and I may have a different answer.

Also, I spoke with the Los Angeles Times this morning about podcasting. I'm really new to the podcasting phenomenon, and when I talked to The Times this morning, I'm wasn't convinced that it's the next Really Big Thing, but after spending some time researching it more and more tonight, I think I may have been wrong. It seems pretty damn cool, anyway, and could very likely mean the return of Radio Free Burrito.

Posted by Wil at 10:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (32)

After several conversations at Gnomedex with geeks who are better at being geeks than I am, I've decided to put the full text of all my posts into my XML feed from now on.

I guess I hadn't done this in the past because I wanted people to actually visit my site, but I don't care about traffic any more. Now I just want people to enjoy what I write, in whatever format they prefer, including offline newsreaders.

In a related story, thanks for all the advice about newsreaders. I've been fooling around with Sage for the last few hours . . . the "discover feeds" thing is a killer app, man.

Posted by Wil at 06:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (35)

A bunch of random thoughts that I need to get out of my head so I can write some other stuff that's in my head:

Item the first:

WWdN reader Gia sez:

". . . my sister and I are running a marathon in just over 3 weeks. My sister is running for Team in Training, just as you and Anne did. My sister still has just over $1000 to raise by Oct. 10th.

This is a message from my sister:

I am running in honor of my boss, Lynn. She was diagnosed with lymphoma 4 years ago (when she was 34). Her daughter was only 5 years old at the time. I just can't imagine how difficult that was to face death with such a young child.

My minimum fundraising goal ($4700) covers ONE night's hospital stay and care for a newly diagnosed blood cancer patient. Considering that treatment can last months to years, and there are over 500,000 Americans living with blood cancers, there is a HUGE need for donations. Thanks to BushCo, 40% of Americans do not have health insurance. My boyfriend, daughter and I are part of that unfortunate group. Hopefully, my fundraising efforts can help someone fight the cancer and survive to see their child grow up.

Here is her sister Sari's Team In Training Homepage. She needs about a thousand bucks. Are there one hundred WWdN readers who can part with ten bucks each? I think it would be awesome times a billion if we could send the power of WWdN her way.

Item the second:

What's your favorite RSS reader? I'm looking to try some different ones out. Bonus points if it runs on Linux.

Item the third:

Opie and Anthony got the royal fucking shaft job by Viacom, and they just came back on the air this morning, on XM 202. It's $1.99 a month for the show, and it's totally worth it. O&A fucking rule, and they are way ahead of the curve by making this move to satellite radio.

Item the fourth:

After reading Viva Las Vegas, a lot of people have asked me to tell them my favorite poker books. I talked about them in my Poker Lizard interview, (which now has a second part that's all about Hollywood, I've just discovered) but here are my top three "how to be a better player" books, ranked according to how much profit they've resulted in for my game:

1. Winning Low-Limit Hold'Em by Lee Jones



2. Hold'Em Excellence: From Beginner to Winner by Lou Krieger



3. The Theory Of Poker by David Sklansky

I have left off the great no-limit books, like Super / System or Cloutier's books, because I don't play no-limit very often. In order to be a winning no-limit player, anyway, you have to be a great limit player, and I'm still developing my skills as a limit player. When I can consistently win at limit and move up, I'll figure out a list of no limit books.

Item the fifth:

The Mount St. Helens Volcano Cam is producing some amazing images right now. Go look.

Item the sixth:

There is no item the sixth but you all knew that already, didn't you?

Item the seventh:

I have no idea what HYPNOTIZE is, but it comes to us from The Absolute Kimiaki Yaegashi, where quality and performance have no substitute, apparently. It's weird and wonderful, and not for everyone.

Item the eighth:

WWdN reader Graham sez:

I was on a rare trip to London (London, England, as you colonials call it), waiting outside the club where I was later to enjoy 2 pints of Guiness and a superb gig by the astonishing Carlos Guitarlos (How cool is he? He has Marcy Levy in his band, that's how cool he is) when I sensed a presence....

Turning round, I saw your face glowering at me from the windows of Foyle's bookshop, via several copies of Just A Geek.

Now, 98 year old Foyles is infamous in London as although it is probably the biggest bookstore in the capital, you can *never* find anything in it, as they mostly order the books by publisher.

So, since your book is published by O'Reilly & Associates, JAG is not in the StarTrek section, nor in the biography section. It is in the geek section. In the window it was between "how to configure OSX" and "WiFi hacking tricks".

Not bad, eh?

Not bad at all, Graham. Not bad at all! Thanks for sending this awesome news!

Item the ninth:

It turns out that Entertainment Weekly listened to the tons of WWdN readers who wrote letters and e-mails to them about their "Whiner of the Week" thing, and they printed the following:

Triumph of the Wil

I'm very disappointed in the misrepresentation of Wil Wheaton as "Whiner of the Week" (Books.) Wil has matured into an exceptional writer and comedian, and his weblog speaks brilliantly for Gen-Xers. The use of his acting experiences to jump-start a few personal stories falls far short of whining and doesn't represent the tome of a well-written and entertaining book.

Ellen Rhatigan

Staten Island, N.Y.

Item the tenth:

I absolutely can't believe that my Dodgers not only made the playoffs, but also made them by coming from 3-0 in the bottom of the 9th to beat the hated Giants! It happened while I was at Gnomedex, and I didn't get to see it on TV . . . but I think that Finley's grand slam is going to take its place next to Gibson's 1988 homer in the halls of Dodger lore. Awesome.

Or maybe tomorrow . . . it's really nice outside.

Posted by Wil at 12:58 PM | Permalink | Comments (101)

Oh man, I am wiped out.

It took me almost 8.5 hours to drive home from gnomedex, and I'm going to go fall down for a little while.

Tomorrow, I'll have a full report, which will include some poker, a lot of geeking, some really cool stuff that I think WWdN readers will like, and some thoughts on the future of this website.

Posted by Wil at 08:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (41)

Part Four is here.

At one point, Golf Shirt raises him, and they go heads up. I forget the exact board, but there is a Queen, at when Golf Shirt turns up Q-3 at the showdown, Kotter slowly nods his head, like, "I knew I was beat all along," before showing K-5.

"You don't have to show if you know you're beat," Pungent says. "You can just fold it."

Kotter looks down at his chips, nods his head, and in that moment he becomes the single most tragic figure I've ever seen in a casino — hell, maybe anywhere — in my life.

Right around the deadly 2.5 hour mark (the time, I've determined, when my game completely falls apart, unless I'm on the greatest rush in history) I find A-9 of clubs, one seat ahead of the button. It's called all the way around, and I decide to raise it. My reasoning goes something like this: "I haven't been in any hands in a long time. Maybe I can just buy this now, and walk out of here a winner!"

It's folded all the way around to Siegfried, who calls. Dianne calls, and Rob deals out the flop: Ad-5d-7c. Siegfried checks, Dianne checks, and I bet. They both call.

Golf Shirt's wife walks up, holding a bucket filled with quarters. It looks like it must weigh fifty pounds.

"Gary! Gary! I won! I won!"

We all stop and look up at her.

"How much?" He says.

"I don't know! This much!" She shakes the bucket, and some quarters slip off the top and roll under our chairs. Her excitement infects her husband, and trickles out onto the table a little bit.

"There's nothing quite like winning in Vegas, is there?" I say to her.

She smiles and nods. "How're you doing?" She asks Golf Shirt.

"Down a little," he says. He's actually played pretty well, by my estimation. He's just not catching that many cards.

"Well, we're up now!" She says, as more quarters spill onto the floor.

"Congratulations," Dealer Rob says with a genuine smile, "Here comes the turn."

It's the 10 of clubs. "Oh! Top pair, overcard kicker, and a flush draw . . . excellent."

Siegfried bets, so I figure he's paired a ten, unless he's playing 9-8, which I suppose is possible . . . but I'm still leading. Dianne calls, but she's been in it until the River with just about anything, so I call.

Mrs. Golf Shirt kisses her husband on the cheek, and tells him she'll be back after she cashes out her quarters. They're a happy couple, and I smile as I watch them.

"Three players," says Dealer Rob. He knocks the table — the first time I've seen this move since I sat down — and deals The River: the ten of spades.

I look out at the board: Ad-5d-7c-10c-10s.

Siegfried bets, and this time it's back to foppishly. I wonder if that's some sort of tell? Dianne calls, and I call.

"Showdown," Dealer Rob says to Siegfried. I hear an explosion of cheering from a craps table. It's the first sound from the rest of the casino that I've heard since I sat down.

Siegfried turns up the Ace of spades and the nine of diamonds. I laugh, and get ready to split the pot . . . until Dianne turns over the 4 of diamonds . . . and the ten of diamonds.

It's my turn to look like Kotter. "Aw, fuck me."

Siegfried purses his lips, and blows out a perturbed sigh. Dealer Rob pushes the pot toward her, and I say "Nice hand, Dia— uh, Ma'am."

"Thank you," she says with an embarrassed smile.

"Well, time to cut out of here while I'm still a hundred bucks ahead," I tell myself, but my legs refuse to get up. A new inner voice, which sounds remarkably like Mr.T, says, "You gonna let her take your money? You better get it back, fool! Damn crazy lady playing Highway Patrol catches two runners to beat you . . . I pity the fool who leaves the table after that beat!"

It's a pretty big "warning flag," when I've got imaginary voices calling me out, (especially when I haven't been drinking Guinness), but when Mr. T. speaks, I listen. Against my better judgement, I play "just one more hand" for another twenty minutes, but I never open until I find AK in the Big Blind.

It's called all the way around, and when Dealer Rob gives me the option, I say, "Raise."

But he's starting to deal the flop before I put my chips out. He stops short, and says, "Three more to play."

"What?" Trucker Hat says.

"He said raise," Dealer Rob says. "It was my mistake."

Trucker Hat sighs and squints at me.

Golf Shirt quickly calls. His leg is as still as a dead salmon frozen in a waterfall, so I'm happy to get the extra checks. Pungent looks at his cards, then to me, then to his cards again before he splashes three chips out. Kotter stares at me and does the slam: "I call him." Trucker Hat growls at me as he calls, and Siegfried raises!

I put him on a steal, and I'm happy to get the action, but the rest of the table is clearly unhappy with this move.

I'd have to lean around Dealer Rob to see Dianne, but out of the corner of my eye, I see her hand put out a call.

I look down at my stack, which I've arranged into a pyramid: three stacks of 20 chips lean up against the padding, then two, and finally one stack of reds out front. There are another ten or so reds that I've been shuffling to the side, so I'm still up just over 100 bucks.

I snap three chips off one of the back stacks, and drop them in front of me. "Call."

Golf Shirt folds, Pungent sighs heavily and flicks his cards away with one finger. Kotter stares into infinity, slowly nods his head, draws his lips tightly together, and casually tosses his cards toward Dealer Rob.

Trucker Hat avoids eye contact with me as he calls, and I'm positive that he's just pissed at me for what he thinks was a shifty play. "You just stay nice and pissed at me, mister man," I think, with just a touch of contempt.

Dealer Rob dumps the rake and deals out the flop: it's a rainbow, 8-4-2.

Dianne checks, and I think back to everything I've read about playing A-K, which I think of as a very powerful drawing hand, but pretty damn far from a made hand, especially in a game like this, where someone is just as likely to be playing 5-7 off-suit as they are to be playing a big pocket pair. Sklansky says that it can start out as a strong hand, but if the flop totally misses you, it can become the dreaded "dominated hand" . . . or it can be two really big overcards that make for a nice semi-bluff, especially if you've raised it before the flop. My gut tells me that check means she was hoping to make a hand on the flop, and it missed her. I'm under the gun now, so I decide to show some strength, and see if I can buy this pot right now. If Siegfried raises, though, I have to figure I'm beat.

"Check or bet, sir," Dealer Rob says.

"Bet." I say.

It's called all the way around, and I pause briefly to wonder if someone has paired that eight, but when the turn is an Ace, my wonders cease.

Dianne checks it again, and I bet it. Trucker Hat folds, Siegfried folds, and I'm getting ready to scoop up the pot and call it a day when Dianne raises me, which sets her all-in.

"All-in," Dealer Rob announces.

My inner Admiral Akbar screams, "IT'S A TRAP!!" But my inner Lando Calrissian says, "Here goes nothing," as I say, "Hey, you want to play them up?" and call.

Before she can say anything, the river comes out: it's a blank, but we all know I'm beat by now anyway, right?

I turn over my Big Slick, and Dealer Rob says, "Pair of Aces." It seems like fifteen years before he turns his head away from me, and looks back at the board. "Two Pair: Eights and Fours," he says, as he shoves the pot to Dianne.

Golf Shirt says, "Holy shit, man." Trucker Hat laughs out loud, and I wonder why this guy has decided to make me not just his opponent, but his enemy. It's not like we ended up in any confrontations . . . but I guess it's the difference between me and a serious gambler. I wonder if I'll ever be able to cross that Rubicon?

"Oh man . . ." I say. "Nice hand, ma'am. Seriously, nice hand."

It turns out that it really was my "one last hand," and I rack my chips.

"That's all for me," I say, to nobody in particular.

"Have a good night," Golf Shirt says.

"Tell you wife to buy you something nice with her slot wins," I say.

"If she hasn't given it all back!" He says with a chuckle. I don't know how I could ever have a killer instinct against this guy, and I realize that I'm relieved we didn't end up in any confrontations.

Just before I stand up, Dianne walks out behind me, my chips cradled in both her hands.

We arrive at the cashier together.



"Can I ask you two questions?"

She looks at me, warily. "Okay . . ."

"What's your name?"

"Jennifer," she says, a little puzzled.

"Of course it is, just like Jennifer Harman."

"Hi, Jennifer. I'm Wil." I extend my hand. As we shake I say, "How could you cold-call with just 8-4 unsuited?"

She flushes a deep crimson and says, "Oh that . . . well, I was down to nothing, anyway, and I just thought I'd play one last hand to see if I could get some of it back before I met my husband for dinner."

Touche, Poker Gods. Tou-fucking-che.

The cashier counts my chips, and gives me two hundred and twenty-seven dollars.

"Well, you trapped me like a pro," I say. "It was a hell of a hand."

I pause, and I have to say it again. "A hell of a hand."

"Thank you," she says, "but I'm not really much of a poker player."

"Could have fooled me," I say. "Have a nice night."

"You too."

I tip the cashier, and walk out of the room. As I pass my former table, I see that Trucker Hat is heads up with Golf Shirt, who is bouncing his leg. I smile to myself and send him some mental mojo that he most certainly does not need.

Posted by Wil at 07:21 AM | Permalink | Comments (92)