Gliting Glastries

I love randomness. Although I suppose I'm still debating whether or not there's such a thing as true randomness, the concept that Things Happen without rhyme or reason, some days it just makes me feel better.

Sometimes I'm able to convince myself that true randomness exists. Those are generally the days that I'm having a bad day. The days that I convince myself my car isn't working because a butterfly in Walla-walla Washington sneezed. No true randomness so far. But /why/ did the butterfly sneeze? No real reason, it just did so.

Of course, other days, I convince myself that it did sneeze for some real, if unmeasurable, reason. And that happened for some other, but also unmeasurable, reason. Etc. Etc. Etc.

So basically, my definition of randomness is based entirely on if there /exists/ a reason, or if the reason can be measured, I suppose. But nonetheless, I love randomness.

But ignoring the difference in random- and pseudo-random- things, a long discussion in itself, one of my favorite uses of randomness is randomly selecting words. It's fun to supply random answers when people ask questions. Especially for the questions that people don't really care about the answer to ("how've you been?") or the questions that you obviously wouldn't know the answer to.

Some people don't even notice. They know what they were expecting to hear, so that's what they listen to, and anything you said doesn't matter. Some people give incredibly odd looks. Some people play along and continue the conversation, using that as a valid answer. The latter group is a lot of fun (as is the first--but only for you, not for both parties), but things can get more interesting if you stop using random words, and instead use a random word.

Which probably needs some explanation. Using random words (former) means using a randomly selected word from your personal dictionary. Kumquat, dodo, antidisestablishmentarianism, a word that means _something_ at least. Using a random word (latter), however, means using a random collection of letters which when put together make a pronounceable sequence that does not have a preexisting meaning. The latter is not recommended if you're wanting to have a meaningful conversation, unless you're both really good at playing.

Or if you're wanting to come up with a good name for a band.

Ba Bum Bum Bum Ba-*BOOOOOM*

During my years of high school, I ended up meeting several people. One of them gladly was an incredible GM, and started up a game of (no-Jedi allowed) Star Wars RPG. Fun mechanic for picking your starting race, where it was either random chance..or human. My random chance happened to be a huge lizard that naturally did fairly well fighting (best blaster skill in the bunch). Someone else ended up being a large sentient plant--thankfully the lizard wasn't a herbivore.

So there we are, a group of rebel spies running around a starbase looking for information on some Imperial general or such. I don't recall for sure. It may have actually been Papa Smurf, but with this GM, I tend to doubt it. So store after store we poke our heads in, buy a few trinkets, and try to weasel some information out of the owners. By the end of the row, not only do the Imperials know that they're being looked for (and consequently send a squad of stormtroopers to find us) but we've got a _ton_ of junk onhand. Backpacks are marvelous things.

Talk to the last shopkeeper, and what happens but the squadron of stormtroopers marches into the other end of the way, all of the patrons discreetly making their way into the nearest establishment to buy..something. Anything. The 'troopers know we're rebels, we know they're not, everyone should've seen enough Star Wars to know the logical next step is a firefight.

Several rounds go by without anyone hitting anyone else, or even come close. Not much time game-time I suppose, but with all the die rolling and talking and planning and everything, it's been a while in real life, and I get tired of it. Not only that, but the blaster charges are starting to run low. I hand my gun to the plant and start pulling this junk out of my backpack...

Me: I throw the little black box down the corridor.
GM: Ok...
*rolls die*
*rolls another die*
*rolls another die*
*rolls yet another die*
*repeat*
GM: The black box hits the ground in the middle of the stormtroopers and rolls over onto one of its faces. You hear.. click--ba bum bum bum bum bu-bu-bu-bum, ba bum bum bum ba-*BOOOOOM* All of the stormtroopers get blown against the wall and crumble to the ground.
Me: What /was/ that thing?
GM: Let's just say...it was a defective jack-in-the-box

Now, he didn't /mean/ for it to be defective. He meant for it to just be a regular boring ol' jack-in-the-box. But I got _really_ lucky with his die rolling. When one situation seems completely hopeless, don't just keep shooting at the stormtroopers. Start throwing jack-in-the-boxes. You never know, one of them may just be defective.