I am the mongoose of truth. Because I have been designated the mongoose of truth, I will never lie to you. Problem is, I don’t always know the truth. I just speak it. Which means I might be wrong. Full of good intentions, but wrong. And then there are snakes. They know the truth, though it’s rare to hear them speak it. This is because they will do everything in their power to lead you astray. Even telling the truth, sometimes. They are full of bad intentions, and those bad intentions are made worse because they know the difference between truth and lies.
That’s Phil Walker-Harding’s Snakesss in a nutshell. It also happens to be an alethiological pretzel.
OK Play isn’t the usual sort of thing I write about, but… um…
All right, look, I don’t have an excuse. Deep down, all we’re doing in this hobby is playing with toys, and OK Play looked like it would be fun to play with. Not necessarily by following its rules, but just by clicking it around. It’s sixty little squares of plastic attached to four prongs that are connected to a carabiner. And yeah, it’s a lot of fun to goof around with. I basically use it like a stress ball or fidget spinner. Clickety clack clickety clack. 10/10.
What do you get when you stuff Rikki Tahta, designer of the ever-lovely Coup, into one end of a particle accelerator, and Spyfall — or better yet, A Fake Artist Goes to New York, which I still contend is the better of the two — into the opposite side, then flip the power switch?
Nothing, you goof. That’s not how particle accelerators work.
If this were a television program featured on the CW, however, the unholy merging of these two substances would result in The Chameleon. It would also very likely be improbably attractive and infuriatingly dramatic, but let’s set that aside for now.