|
Issue Seventeen June 2006 |
 |
 |
 |
©2006 by Cliff Johnson All Rights Reserved |
| Look before you leap. | the officious newsletter of author Cliff Johnson | He who hesitates is lost. |
|
>Take
One< Why is an actor “in” a movie when he appears “on” TV? Why do banks have branches if money doesn’t grow on trees? How important do you have to be before you are considered assassinated instead of just murdered? >Take Two< Some Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey: To me, boxing is like a ballet, except there’s no music, no choreography, and the dancers hit each other. We tend to scoff at the beliefs of the ancients. But we can’t scoff at them personally, to their faces, and this is what annoys me. If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down? We might, if they screamed all the time, for no good reason. >Take Three< An applicant was filling out a job application. When he came to the question, “Have you ever been arrested?” He answered, “No.” The next question, intended only for people who had answered in the affirmative, was “Why?” The applicant answered it, “Never got caught.” >Take Four< Ways to Annoy People: Sing the 1966 Batman theme incessantly. Specify repeatedly that your drive-through order is “to go.” Disassemble your pen and “accidentally” flip the ink cartridge across the room. Follow a few paces behind someone, spraying everything they touch with a can of Lysol. Leave the copy machine set to 99 copies, extra dark, 17 inch paper, and reduce by 200%. >Take Five< Three of David Letterman’s Top Ten Signs You’re At A Bad Fireworks Display: Best part was when the bug zapper fell in the pool. What you call a fireworks display, the police call arson. When you complain it’s over after an underwhelming two minutes, your wife says, “Tell me about it.” >Take Six< If receiving this newsletter is as welcome as suffering along with Tom Hanks as he grimaces and squirms his way through the movie version of The Da Vinci Code, click here to cancel. On the other hand, if Malcolm Tent, (a grumbler, bellyacher, or nit-picker), forwarded this newsletter to you and you wish to subscribe, click here. >Take Seven< Purple prose: He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck either, but a real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a land mine or something. The plan was simple, like his brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever. >Cut< >Print< |
There is one and only one answer and the Fool must discover it by sunrise.
All this and more in The Fool and his Money — pre-order today and have your name immortalized in the Compendium of True Believers inside the game.
|
The greatest
fool of all is the man who fools himself. I need to push back the deadline once again. How does a game that takes two years to make end up taking four years to make? Well, you start by emulating The Fool’s Errand meta-puzzle structure and design. Then you decide that the puzzles ought to have dual purposes as they did in 3 in Three. Then you decide to add the same quantity of puzzles as At the Carnival. And then you decide to add features where no Fool has gone before. |
|
I never intended
to re-write the game three times from scratch,
but each and every time, it has been the
right decision — I know you’ll
agree. Thank you for your patience. On a side note, E. V. Lucas observes, “I have noticed that the people who are late are often so much more jolly than the people who have to wait for them.” Jolly scarcely begins to describe my joy at discovering that a long-legged crunchy bug tastes nothing like a soft-shell crab... in case you were wondering (from last issue). Crustaceous Jocosity |
|
