Freshman Year: Live and Let Live (Part 2)

TFH was the second floor RA in my Freshmen dorm, "Egypt" (See Part 1 here). I got a chance to talk to him when we were walking to our first dorm event, a dorm versus dorm freeze tag match in the Stanford quad. We exchanged some pleasantries and discussed our chances in the freeze tag match. I explained that I never get too hung up with losing in freeze tag as people are apt to unjustly unfreeze themselves. TFH shrugs and tells me "If you're not cheating, you're not trying." It was at this point that I realized TFH would be a very different RA experience. You see, Spamus, G$, and I were the evil influences in Gently's life, constantly chatting in her room, distracting her from work, or causing havoc in the halls. And that's how it's supposed to be. We're raucous Freshmen, she's the responsible Senior. Fortunately or unfortunately, it never worked this way with TFH. TFH sending us down "the other path" would be a common theme throughout the year.

What started it was the discovery that TFH was a Magic: The Gathering player. You may have heard of it – it is the same game that many boys played while they were in middle school (for me, it was around 1995-1997). This fantasy card game pits (typically) two players against each other, who assume the role of "wizards" that summon monsters, cast spells, and use artifacts all in an effort to reduce their opponent's life total from twenty to zero. TFH had a bunch of cards for us to play with because his dad worked for Hasbro and sent him a few free boxes each year (this is the same way we got our light sabers in Part 1). Magic wasn't even hip when I was in middle school, so you can imagine it was positively women-repelling when I picked it up with renewed vigor in college.

TFH was looking for gaming partners, and like any drug dealer with business sense, he broke us in slowly. He convinced G$, Spamus, and I every once in a while to browse his cards, throw them into fun concoctions, and play. We were more than happy to comply. After not playing for 4 years, walking into TFH’s room to see his collection of cards was more exciting than I’d like to admit. As I was in a long distance relationship at that time, I had the perfect excuse to ignore the rest of humanity, including the other main attraction on TFH’s floor – a hallway full of college girls of all shapes and sizes. While social life happened outside, I was methodically flipping through TFH’s collection and pointing out old cards like past lovers. Ah yes… Hypnotic Specter, I’d say, I remember that card was pretty sweet.

As TFH had been playing more than us, it soon became apparent the way the rest of us played the game – carelessly and impulsively – was no longer competitive. TFH was eager to teach us how to play better so we talked Magic theory and analyzed games after they had developed (I was particularly susceptible to this pastime). We even created our own dorm Magic league with numerical rankings based off the ELO Chess rating system. TFH updated the website after every night of matches so it reflected our new rankings; the website also functioned as an archive of results of every game we’d played.

As the competitive aspect of the game became more appealing, TFH and I eventually began going to local Magic tournaments. I won’t get into those here, but as a preview, our first excursions had mixed success. This prompted even TFH’s dad to get into the trash talk. “I don’t understand why you guys don’t just win. Not only am I paying $30,000 for your education, I’m sending you boxes and boxes of cards for free!”

As another way to improve, we began looking up Magic decks that have won recent tournaments on the internet. TFH built a now-classic deck known as the "Keeper.” He beat us all for a bit, but then G$ and I researched a decklist called “Old School Expulsion,” or OSE. OSE was created just to beat the “old school” Keeper deck, specifically on the back of a card called “Misdirection” (which, like the name suggests, redirects a positive spell from the Keeper player to the OSE player).

G$ was the chosen pilot for the OSE deck; not because he was the best (he is happy to remind me he was “dead last” on our league), but because he was the best against TFH. It seemed every day they would play, TFH would be slowly and skillfully winning the game. Then, he would try to play the spell that would seal the deal. “Ancestral Recall?” TFH would hopefully ask. G$ would let the moment simmer for just a bit, before shaking his head. “M-M-M-….MMISDIRECTION!!!” he announced with fanfare. G$ would then “windmill slam” the card, which involved taking the Misdirection in the palm of his hand, standing up, rotating his arm a few times “like a windmill,” then slaming the card faceup on the floor. TFH of course would go on mega-tilt from the display, but G$, Spamus, and I would be in absolute stitches.*

By the end of the year, it was not unusual to spend 4 or more hours playing Magic in TFH’s room each night. We frequently slept through lunch, so you can imagine what attendance on our morning classes was like. Unfortunately, the amount of school work we had to do steadily increased as the year went on, and it didnt take a genius to see that something had to give.

While all our academics cracked a bit, TFH suffered the most. The night before a midterm, he half-seriously wrote on his whiteboard “If you still see this message tomorrow morning at 8 AM, please knock.” That message and a conscientious student were all that was between him and a fifth year at the Farm. Even so, his performance on certain classes, notably statistics, left something to be desired. The details are gory, but let's just say he "passed" the course in only the most generous sense of the term. To this day, the ultimate rejoinder to TFH inspired trash talk is to say "please – you understand this game no better than you do statistics.”

Sadly, TFH moved to North Carolina, so I do not currently get to see as much of him as I’d like. Though this might be a good thing from a work and career perspective, I’d gladly trade a few points on the real world ladder for the unadulterated good times that Freshman year was. That said, TFH and I are still good friends. Since Freshman year, has TFH continued to be a strong influence in my life? I will leave you with this discussion regarding online poker we had just a few months ago.

Me: I itch to buy in for real money, but I'm kind of scared where that path leads.
TFH: yeah, me too -- exactly my sentiment
Me: I am looking to you for guidance... meaning, to push me into the wrong direction.
TFH: HAHA
TFH: when have i ever done that!

Do I even need to say that we eventually both bought in for real money, TFH first, me following?

* A variation on the “windmill slam” – taking the card, pretending to use it to wipe your bottom, then presenting it to your opponent – actually got “Magic bad boy” PTR (search for "Searing Flesh") disqualified from the Pro Tour.

Freshmen Year: Live and Let Live (Part 1)

Dorms at Stanford are largely run by Resident Assistants (RAs), students employed by the university to put together fun events for the dorm, act as a shoulder to cry on, and (lightly) enforce dorm or university rules. Most RAs are friendly, energetic upperclassmen, and “Gently”* was no exception. Gently was a tall, attractive brunette majoring in History. She was the type of person who I am sure has always been naturally popular throughout her life, without a hint of malice or manipulation. Even as a Senior, Gently was mature beyond her years, and quite ready to leave the Stanford bubble. This led to an interesting dynamic, as she was placed as an RA on the first floor of “Egypt."

Egypt was actually divided so that the first floor was all guys, the second floor was all girls, and the third floor was coed. I am not quite sure what the logic behind placing Gently on the first floor was, but I assume the powers that be guessed a shot of estrogen was needed to balance out the floor. This was on the right track, but somewhat short of the mark. You'd need truckloads of estrogen to turn the first floor of Egypt into anything close to "normal." You see, Egypt 1F was the place where I met many of the depraved friends who remain to this day constant characters in my life. As Freshmen, we just had that much more time to generally act like the social retards we were (and arguably remain).

If you peered down the hall of Egypt a random day that year, there would be little surprising about it. There was the carpeted hallway and the usual row of dorm room doors, each decorated with brightly colored name tags. If you walked in, you might pass a few rooms and stop at 110 - where Spamus and G$ reside. In a typical scene, the pair are at their computers playing a first person shooter called Quake on matching LCD monitors. It's actually dead silent, as they both have headphones on, are facing away from the door, and are engrossed in the game. Maybe G$ would be running around with Quake's version of a pinprick - a mere machine gun. Spamus is sporting one of the game's stronger weapons, the rocket launcher, and is on the prowl. He turns the corner and Aha! finds G$ frantically darting towards the end of the hallway, where there's a better gun. Spamus leans slightly in towards the monitor, as he tap-tap-taps the mouse, unleashing a gratuitous volley of rockets. Rocket blasts explode all around G$'s screen, and it is at this point that the silence is cracked by G$'s high pitched scream (“fuuuuuuuuuUUCK!”). His character is quickly reduced to giblets.

This was actually a common phenomenon as the floor was just filled to the brim with gamers (or generally weird people). There was a guy who tried to readjust his sleep schedule so he slept 8 of every 36 hours, another was a bronze medalist in the International Math Olympiad, a decidedly not in shape third repeatedly walked around with his shirt off. Of the 20 or so guys on the floor, I can think of over half who ended up as Computer Science majors. Multiplayer Quake matches amongst people living just down the hall were a reality, and when the whole floor was playing, a cacophony of insults, taunts, screams and gloats could be heard whenever something interesting happened.

With the personality of the first floor thus, it should be no surprise that the release of Star Wars: Episode II was highly anticipated. We prepared ourselves the only way we knew how - by repeatedly playing Jedi Knight II matches against each other. Jedi Knight was a Quake-like game themed Star Wars style. We'd fight on a stage that was designed to look exactly like the "Duel of the Fates" scene from Episode 1. John Williams' score would be blaring loudly in the background while I desperately tried to use the force to choke and throw G$ off the ledge before he sliced me in two. The music became ingrained in us. One day, I walked back into the dorm to see G$ standing in the hall talking to Gently. Though we are half a hallway apart from each other, spontaneously, he turns to me and begins loudly singing:
G$: "KOR-AHHHH. MAH-TAHHHH"
Me: "KOR-AHHHH. RAH-TAH-MAHHHH"
G$ and I start giggling, and we hear Spamus - "Is that BeatenByJacks? What're you guys even doing??"

Another Star Wars fan and character on the Egypt stage was TFH. At the time, TFH was the RA of the second floor. In a later story, I will describe the gaming heaven that was his room, but what is relevant now is that his dad worked at the toy company Hasbro. This meant a free shipment of six lightsabers. They were put to good use:

1) G$ and I decided to choreographed a lightsaber duel for an hour or so in the Egypt lobby. We'd run through a few moves, earnestly discuss how "cool" they looked, then practice a few times. The Egypt lobby was a highly trafficked public space.
2) On the day Episode 2 premiered, we were obviously in line for several hours waiting for good seats. Fortunately, we brought the lightsabers to the theaters. TFH and I decide to engage in a spontaneous lightsaber duel, which culminates with TFH pretending to use the force on me, while I act like I am pushed to the floor. I could see parents standing in line with their kids thinking "God, Little Johnny better not still be obsessed with Star Wars when he's as old as these losers."
3) Near the end of the year, non-local students often put their stuff in temporary storage for the summer. This meant there were 10 or 20 Door-to-Door storage containers scattered throughout the Egypt field (the containers basically look like outhouses). G$ and I saw this for what it was - a perfect place for a lightsaber battle. At 1:00 or 2:00 AM, we ran into field and tried to ambush each other from behind the storage containers, lightsabers providing our only source of light.

It seemed so natural at the time, but looking back I can only imagine what it was like to be one of the few non-gamers on the floor. Gently's room, for example, was situated directly across from Spamus and G$'s. As an RA, her door basically had to be open the whole day, so sounds of gunfire and virtual explosions constantly interrupted her attempts to catch up on reading. My roommate came from a musical theater background and was another non-gamer. I basically had nothing in common him, which was unfortunate because he was a cool guy. The difference was pretty obvious when you looked at the posters up on our room:

Him: Framed pictures of friends. Posters of Abercrombie & Fitch models.
Me: A single "demotivator" from despair.com which read, "Adversity: That which does not kill me postpones the inevitable."

Despite the widely different personalities that lived there that year, I have to say there were few major fireworks or drama that came out of our floor. We all loved Gently, and I like to think she liked us as well. My roommate and I may not have become best friends, but I think there is no bitterness there. And I did meet many of the people that have defined me from that point on. Far from a disaster, Egypt was just a bunch of cool people hanging out together, letting each other do whatever they wanted to do. And that’s what it’s all about, right?

* The origin of this nickname is from a dorm tradition known as Secret Santa. This is where each participant draws a name of a person they will anonymously give a gift to. The catch is that the recipient are given anonymous commands that must be followed in order in order to receive the gift. This led to an entertaining week of random feats. In the midst of this, G$ and Spamus interrupted a widely attended dorm meeting to serenaded Gently to Tenacious D’s song “Fuck Her Gently” (NSFW). The punchline of this is G$ and Spamus’ dance wasn’t even a part of the Secret Santa – they did it just for kicks.

Intelligence is Not Wisdom – A Character Study of BigPika

I wrote this one for BigPika’s birthday.

bigpika: my friend it could ALL BE OURS

bigpika: the HOT CHIXX0RS

bigpika: um dude that's not a word.

bigpika: shut the fuck up dude.

bigpika: dude stop fucking talking to yourself.

bigpika: what the fuck?

bigpika: FUCK YOU

bigpika: NO FUC YOU

-one of the smartest minds to ever (barely) graduate from Stanford.

Imagine this - you are peacefully drinking from the water fountain in the hallway of your dormitory. All of a sudden, a door bursts open. From it, a disheveled Asian male pounds the floor, making a beeline from his room to the bathroom door. You hear a loud “OH GOD!” as he enters the bathroom. Presumably relieving himself in record time, he soon blitzes back to his room and slams the door shut, all while your mouth hangs agape over the drinking fountain.

This is a true story from my college days. The guy I speak about is none other than my good friend BigPika. Now, I’m sure the question burning in your mind is “what was BigPika doing that made him in such a rush, denying himself even the fundamental human right to pee?” Well, he wasn’t finding the cure for AIDS, I can tell you that much. He was playing a computer game. And not just any computer game. A COMPUTER GAME YOU CAN PAUSE.

Why would BigPika not just pause the game when he needed to pee, instead of desperately dashing to the bathroom during the cutscenes?

Simply put, if he thought that rationally, he wouldn’t be BigPika.

My friends tell me that BigPika is one of the smartest and best programmers out there. I believe it. He has demonstrated his ridiculous knowledge of computers time and time again by busting out random technical facts. BigPika also possesses the most computer equipment of anyone I’ve ever known. Need a gadget? You don’t go to Fry’s, you go to BigPika. Zephy made him throw away five keyboards – he still has another four. His new Radeon 9800 pro physically fried since he was playing video games 24/7. No worries, he replaced it with a slightly less new Radeon 9700 Pro he had lying around. Spamus wanted some thermal paste to help cool down his system – BigPika had it.

I don’t even know what thermal paste is.

BigPika’s prowess goes beyond simple technical support however – his raw smarts are solid. Last quarter, the team of BigPika, G$, and two other dudes won the best project contest in the Human Computer Interaction class. He also simultaneously placed 3^rd in the Othello contest of the grad-level artificial intelligence class (one of the hardest classes at Stanford). After this experience, AllSoundSame (who surely was belittling his own contribution) said “if there's anything I've learned from this week, it's that dominating a tournament of uber-nerds involves nothing more than a couple lines of code, a nice dry erase board, and BigPika.”

But as epic as BigPika's smarts are, his errors in judgment are somehow even more legendary.

Several times we would be on the way to dinner when we’d stop by BigPika’s dorm room. We’d say hi, and go through the pleasantries of checking up on everyone.

G$: “How’s the CS140 program going for you, BigPika?”

BigPika: “Wh… what program?”

G$: “… The one that’s due tomorrow.”

BigPika: (blood leaving face, mouth hanging open)

G$: “Tell me you’re joking.”

BigPika: “THERE A PROGRAM DUE TOMMORROW? WHY DIDN’T ANYONE TELL ME!”

All: (mutterings that attending class, reading professor’s emails, or glancing at the syllabus may help)

Most of the time BigPika’s foibles are caused by a combination of his addictive personality and love of video games. The game he was playing when he blitzed to the bathroom was Homeworld, a real time strategy game that he beat in apparently a single seating.

In Super Smash Brothers, BigPika once repeated a single move ONE THOUSAND TIMES in his quest to discover the true distribution of outcomes.

If BigPika can get so into allegedly non-addictive games such as Smash Brothers, what happens when he encounters the most addictive game genre of all time, Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Games? Well, after he bought World of Warcraft (WoW), he immediately disappeared from the real world, playing apparently 24/7. In just two weeks, BigPika wrote in his blog that the game ruined him. He cancelled his account.

Less than 6 weeks later, he had reactivated his account.

BigPika is still subscribed and plays a lot. A lot. I think, though, what really separates him from other gamers is the way WoW has really affected his real life psyche. BigPika no longer uses “IRL” cuss words to yell at bad drivers; he instead yells “PVE NUB!” BigPika no longer compares trees to Redwoods and Sycamores; he instead sizes them up against the trees in Ashenvale or Silverpine. I am convinced when BigPika’s avatar takes damage, he himself feels physical pain. I’m sure Spamus would concur - he’s been woken up numerous times at 4 AM by screams when Warcraft monsters take BigPika’s character apart.

Though I’ve known BigPika for a while, and have tried my best to explain him, much still remains a mystery. How do you know the location of every powerup in every map in Quake, yet repeatedly turn up the wrong way on the same one way street? How can your Warcraft bank space be meticulously organized while dirty laundry and change litters your floor?

The truth is, to know BigPika is to not expect answers to these questions. And as this young man reaches the sweet age of [Age], I expect him to get less, not more, mature. But that really isn’t a bad thing. Knowing BigPika has, is, and will be an unforgettable experience.

Happy birthday, BigPika.