Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Where's my blog, fool?


Big thanks to everyone who checked up on me when they found this blog no longer existed.  I've been mostly offline the last week or so with a friend visiting from out of town.  At some point a robot at google detected some sort of suspicious activity involving both my blog and my gmail account, putting the kibosh on both.  Fortunately Mike Shorten sent me a text message alerting me to the problem.

Time to get serious about archiving this stuff offline...

Friday, May 27, 2011

fun (?) with Wikipedia

My buddy Pat posted this item to his Google Buzz feed:

Today on XKCD the alt text says that if you click the first hyperlink on any page in wikipedia that is not in parentheses or in italics, and repeat that process, you will eventually end up at Philosophy.

I checked Lake Trout. 13 clicks later I was at philosophy.

From Tauroctony, 24 clicks.

From Nachos, 19 clicks.

From Magick, 19 clicks.

Head For the Red: Wiki-Philosophy Trivia
 
I decided to test this hypothesis by using the Wikipedia random button, which is one of my favorite buttons on the entire internet. Here are my results, wikipedia page names in bold.

Random article doodad led to Kenneth N. Beers

who worked for NASA

which is part of the executive branch

which is part of a national government

which is a form of central government

which is a form of sovereign state

which is a type of state

which is a concept in the social sciences

which is a field of study

which is part of academia

which is a community

which involves interaction

which is more complicated than simple causality

which involves events

which are generally observable

which is an important trait to physics

which is a natural science

which is a science

the goal of which is the accumulation of knowledge

which involves gaining facts

which are a form of information

which comes in a sequence

a concept important to mathematics

which studies, among other things, quantity

which is a property

in modern philosophy

a subset of philosophy

From random button to philosophy, 26 clicks.  I assume the next step, if someone hasn't already written it, is a little program like the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon thing-a-ma-bob.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Mr. T gonna suck your blood, fool!


Result from google image search "Mr. T vampire".

Friday, May 20, 2011

magic items: purchase, pillage or...

Listing standard gold piece values in the first edition Dungeon Masters Guide was one of Gygax's worst decisions, in my opinion.  From there it's only a short leap to shops that stock magic items nas standard wares, which quickly pushes any pseudo-medieval gameworld towards an implicit technomagical industrial revolution.  And finding a magic item yourself (especially if you were nearly killed by gods know what getting it) will always beat the pants off of picking up your new vorpal blade at Sears Roebuck.

There's a third option besides buying and looting that I wish there was a little mechanical support for: the magical gift. Think about the Lady in the Lake and Excalibur or the Phial of Galadriel. Wouldn't it be cool if there was some sort of good, solid criterion for "You are worthy of your quest.  Take this, as it may be useful on your journey."?  4e's Treasure Parcel rules (which I otherwise loath) might actually be on to something in this regard.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

besmirching Jeffy Plantagenet

Yesterday's outline of Geoffrey of Anjou's personality got some interesting responses. A couple people felt that my characterization was a bit of a disservice to the patriarch of the Plantagenet dynasty. Dangerous Brian notes:
While matilda was making a hash of things in England, her husband was kicking ass and taking names all over France. In fact, Matilda's son Henry probably owes his military genius, energetic enthuisiam and penchant for womanising to the teachings and example of his father.
And Don McKinney, one of the niftiest guys I've ever known, reminds us:
Henry I had heard reports of Geoffrey's talents and prowess. I suspect that would be more military that bardic... Remember that Geoffrey's father gave him Anjou because he left to marry and become King of Jerusalem (1131-1143), so Geoffrey's family isn't exactly a bunch of unknowns.
These are excellent points.  The wikipedia article on Geoffrey of Anjou also provides this interesting detail:
John of Marmoutier describes Geoffrey as handsome, red-headed, jovial, and a great warrior; however, Ralph of Diceto alleges that his charm concealed his cold and selfish character.
I don't think I've read those particular chroniclers yet, so those guys can be added to the pile of fun stuff to check into while researching for the campaign.  Anyway, all this stuff suggests that my take on this guy is a gross oversimplification at best and outright erroneous at worst. The thing is, I'm okay with that.
 
Dude's been dead for the better part of a millenium and frankly I feel like I don't owe him jack and/or squat. Getting Geoffrey of Anjou 'right' just isn't a priority for me.  I'm much more interested in doing something interesting with the materials available, whether the result comes out exactly in line with history or not. The research is fuel for the process, not the point of the process. The point is to end up with fun stuff for the game. 
 
Geoffrey of Anjou may never even show up in my campaign.  As Dangerous Brian notes he hangs back in Normandy while his wife leads an invasion of England. But as a VIP of the setting he casts a long shadow. Geoffrey as a useless dandy fits in with an overall theme for the upper crust in the campaign: these are all terrible people.  Matilda and Stephen's family spat over who gets to sit at the head of the table at Christmas dinner costs thousands of lives and pretty much wrecks up an entire country (and much of France, too)  for two friggin' decades. Under my interpretation no one at the top of the Wessex social hierarchy is going to come off as a swell guy to go have a beer with.  Incidentally, this means Empress Matilda is going to be tricky, as it would be super duper easy to just pretend "she's a bitch" counts as characterization.
 
But anyway, let's say we want to keep the prettyboy fancy dresser angle, but give Geoffrey a harder edge, make him a cruel bastard who can kick more than a little ass.  There's at least one superb model to go for in characterizing this version, Tim Roth's character Archibald Cunningham from the Liam Neeson flick Rob Roy. Man, I hate that guy. Neeson's Rob Roy pulling himself up by his foe's sword and just stone cold chopping Cunningham down is a great "Fuck yeah!" moment.

Mr. Roth plays an excellent Deadly Douchebag.
He was also great in Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Ladies, God's gift to you has arrived.


I've been trying to get a feel for the personalities of some of the important personages of 12th century England.  The guy above, Geoffrey of Anjou, is the husband of Empress Matilda, one of the claimants to the throne during the Anarchy.  Note that he is not Emperor Geoffrey; he is a mere count.  Matilda holds the title of Empress from her first marriage.  She's the widow of a Holy Roman Emperor, though I can't remember his name at the moment.  Matilda is also Queen of the Romans in her own right. Geoffrey's family is wealthy and powerful, but he obviously married up socially.

Another interesting fact about Geoffrey of Anjou is that he is considerably younger than his imperial spouse.  As the campaign opens he is 26 and she is 37, suggesting perhaps that Geoffrey is perhaps a bit of a trophy husband along the lines of the Ashton Kutcher/Demi Moore relationship.

Additionally, Geoffrey could be interpreted as a bit of a fashion plate.  See that shield he's carrying with the lions?  That's the earliest extant coat of arms in England.  His uncle, King Henry I, gave him that shield upon his knighting.  Books on the subject of heraldry always assume that shield devices arose out of the practical need to identify friends and foes on the field of battle.  What if they're wrong?  What if heraldry just started out as a silly fashion trend?  Suppose young Geoffrey wears that shield every he goes.  Everyone knows the king gave him that shield (if they don't know, he'll certainly tell them).  Soon his no-good hangers-on, the kind of toadies that latch on to any powerful man, are carrying fancy painted shields as well. Then Geoffrey marries the Empress.  Soon all of Europe hops onto the painted shield craze!  But not everyone can pull off wearing a Phrygian cap emblazoned with their device quite as dapperly as Geoffrey here.

So this is my take on Geoffrey of Anjou, one of the major players of the period: he's an empty-headed clotheshorse.  The Paris Hilton of his age.  Famous for being famous.  His only assets are prettyboy looks, the ability to accessorize hat/shield combos and the luck to marry well.

new Wessex map


The main change in this version of my campaign map is the addition of something resembling the Roman road system. The obvious reason to put these roads on the board is for moving around the PC party and/or clashing armies. The less obvious reason is that pretty much all the inns, the leftovers of ancient Roman system of tabernae roadhouses, located on the map are these roads. They're the only places one can readily get both a bed and some ale for hard coin.

Elsewhere you can buy a drink at an alehouse, which is quite literally someone's house where you can buy an ale.  The host (usually a woman, the alewife) has a few extra stools or benches she pulls out in front of her hut/cottage/whatever.  When that day's ale is ready she puts out her sign and serves up fresh brew to whoever shows up with a silver penny in hand.  Food is not available and there's nowhere to sleep. All other accommodations are via the laws of hospitality. Travelers often stay at manors, monasteries and churches, in this latter case sleeping on the sanctuary floor in most parishes. I'm still working out what that means for my campaign.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Monday, May 16, 2011

gaming with music

I have a tendency to imagine that music and gaming ought to go together like chocolate and peanut butter, the way music and film mesh so effectively.  The James Bond Theme is an immediately recognizable part of the 007 mythos.  Or think about Ennio Morricone's music and Sergio Leone's spaghetti westerns.  As much as I respect Leone's overall direction, I don't think the last act of The Good, the Bad and the Ugly could possibly work without Morricone's "The Ecstacy of Gold":



Personally, I think that's one of the greatest sequences I've ever seen on film, ranking right up there with the opening track shot in Orson Wells's Touch of Evil. But would it work with a score less awesome than Morricone's? I doubt it. And after experiencing the flatness of this early no-music preview for the original Star Wars I sometimes find it hard not to think of John Williams as the guy who saved George Lucas's career.

The problem is that film is a passive form of entertainment.  Roleplaying games require the active use of totally different parts of the brain.  John Williams or Ennio Morricone can work to draw us deeper into the enchantment film provides.  Put the soundtrack for Star Wars on at a sci-fi session and inevitably I will stop playing at some point and just listen.  Perhaps with my mouth agape like a slack-jawed yokel.

But good music clearly digs down to an ancient layer of meaning that I just can't reach with graph paper and twelve sided dice, so I'm not quite ready to give up on teaming them up.  Here are some ideas on how to do that without accidentally turning your session into a meeting of a music appreciation society:
  • Listen to appropriate music during game prep. Of course, this cuts the players out of the action.
  • Put together a playlist for the players, maybe even burning CDs for everyone. Some players will doubtless look at you like you're crazy, but others will get it.
  • Play an intro theme. Most sessions start out with a bit of light chitchat. Firing up a copy of Holst's Mars movement or whatever would serve as a signal to stop talking about comic books and get serious about playing.
  • Perhaps music during the session is feasible, but one has to be smart about selection. No songs with words, perhaps.  People will either sing along or simply pay too much attention to the lyrics. Nothing too strongly invocative of something irrelevant to the game at hand. To you, the sountrack to The Breakfast Club might strike just the right tone for your dungeon, but the players might have trouble connecting it to anything but the movie.
  • I maintain a little email list of my player pool.  Gmail makes that pretty dang easy.  I can imagine a scenario where in one of my regular "reminder: game tonight" emails I included a link to a youtube clip of some music video. "Tonight we continue the hunt for the Werebeast of Labbershack Moor. And to set the mood, here's Ozzy Osbourne's "Bark at the Moon"."

Anybody else with any ideas on how to use music with gaming without it ending up a big ol' distraction?

Saturday, May 14, 2011

this came to me while blogger was fubarred

One Shot Idea for Exactly Four Players

In the distant future scientists discover trace amounts of super-DNA imbued in the ink of an ancient scroll. The genetic material is reconstituted into four brave young volunteers, who use their newfound powers to battle the enemies of humanity. They are...


KISS 3000!




Starchild! Space Ace! Catman! The Demon! ...fighting to protect Planet Terra from menaces interstellar and transdimensional... fighting for the power of Rock and Roll!

Thursday, May 12, 2011

first thought upon waking today

If the sum of human knowledge is doubling every five years, does that mean I'm twice as stupid as I was in 2006?

Half as smart as back then, plus whatever I've managed to learn.  But minus everything I've forgotten, so it may be a wash.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

random gunslinger names

Roll d100 twice, or once if you are lazy.

d% first last

01 Adam Adams
02 Andrew Allison
03 Benjamin Anderson
04 Boone Baker
05 Brack Barnes
06 Burt Bass
07 Butch Bassett
08 Camillus Blake
09 Capehart Bogan
10 Charles Borne
11 Christopher Boswell
12 Clay Brown
13 Cole Bullion
14 Connor Burnham
15 Cornelius Burris
16 Crawford Burts
17 Cullen Canton
18 Cyrus Carrillo
19 Dallas Carver
20 Daniel Christie
21 David Clay
22 Davis Clayborne
23 Dillon Clifton
24 Edward Collins
25 Elijah Cortez
26 Emmett Cortina
27 Enrique Courtright
28 Floyd Cullen
29 Francis Dalton
30 Frank Daniels
31 Frederick Daugherty
32 Friedrich Desmond
33 George Dillon
34 Grant Donahue
35 Gratton Doolin
36 Gregory Dunn
37 Harold Fisher
38 Harvey Flores
39 Hendry Ford
40 Henry Garrett
41 Ike Glanton
42 Isaiah Goldsby
43 Jackson Gossett
44 James Harper
45 Jeffrey Hart
46 Jesse Helm
47 Joaquin Henry
48 Joel Higgins
49 John Hite
50 Jose Hodges
51 Joshua Ingram
52 Josiah Johnson
53 Juan Kidder
54 Jules Kilpatrick
55 Kimball Kimball
56 Leander Kinney
57 Lee Logan
58 Luke Long
59 Martin Longley
60 Matthew Madsen
61 Michael Mason
62 Milton Mathers
63 Morgan McMasters
64 Nathaniel Middleton
65 Newton Miles
66 Owen Miller
67 Paden Milton
68 Pancho Murphy
69 Patrick Musgrove
70 Percival Newcomb
71 Pio Newton
72 Pliney O'Neil
73 Porter Owens
74 Procopio Pickett
75 Randolph Pico
76 Reuben Reed
77 Richard Riley
78 Robert Ringo
79 Roy Rockwell
80 Rufus Roseberry
81 Russell Ruggles
82 Samuel Russell
83 Sandy Scurlock
84 Scott Short
85 Seaborn Skinner
86 Seth Smith
87 Sherman Sparks
88 Sidney Stilwell
89 Simeon Storms
90 Solomon Taylor
91 Steven Thompson
92 Theodore Tracy
93 Thomas Tucker
94 Virgil Walters
95 Warren Webb
96 Wesley Williams
97 William Wilson
98 Wilson Woodson
99 Woodson Yarberry
00 Wyatt Zachary

The first and last names on these charts are taken from real Old West gunfighters.  Obviously you might want to change Samuel to Sam or add a colorful nickname like Warren "Mule Poop" Rockwell.  Lady shootists were in short supply in the 5 minutes I spent on research, so here's the rather brief results:

d10 first

1 Ann
2 Elizabeth
3 Jane
4 Josephine
5 Laura
6 Maybelle
7 Myra
8 Pearl
9 Rose
0 Shirley

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

my high score: 18,710


For another interesting new spin on an arcade classic, check out worldsbiggestpacman.com.

even Mr. T dreams of being him


This one goes out to last week's anonymous commenter and everybody else who misses Shatnerday.  Big thanks to my buddy Pat for providing the original Mr. T coloring book image.  For more Captain Kirk coloring book action hit up this article or this weirder one at Plaid Stallions.

Monday, May 09, 2011

The Wessex Manifesto

Gameblog reader Richard commented in a previous post to ask:
Do you have any kind of manifesto document for your Wessex? Anything to do with rough date, geographical extent, degree of verisimilitude? I always wonder with campaign worlds that have stuff in common with European areas of one age or another where they contact history and where they diverge.
Seems like this would be a good opportunity to write a comprehensive overview of what I'm trying to do in my recent D&D efforts.

"Wessex" is the name of the setting.  The campaign (meaning the setting in action, or the setting over time) is called "A Surfeit of Lampreys".  Though neither of these terms come up very often in play.  This is because I don't bring them up.  The players are quite satisfied knowing that the gameworld is roughly analogous to medieval England of a certain period (more on that in a moment).  I don't ram home the name of the region or the artsy-fartsy title of the campaign because I believe that for every x of material the players care about, worldbuilding DMs tend to create 10x of crap no one else at the table finds interesting.  I try hard to keep that extra 10x out of the players' way, though sometimes I do drone on about how "Oh, no.  In my campaign we don't use platemail because it wasn't in use until blah, blah, blah."  But usually I try to focus more on how the slimy thing with the tentacles is trying to eat Sir Yourdude's head.

"A Surfeit of Lampreys" is the traditional way of describing King Henry I's cause of death.  He was an old king with digestive trouble.  His physicians warned him to lay off the fatty foods and heavy oils, but the dude loved him some lampreys in oil.  I've seen at least one historian blame the cook for over-oiling the lampreys, but come on.  The king could have sent them back.  He's the friggin' king.  In my opinion the old coot has to take full blame for killing himself by gorging on lampreys because he had been specifically warned off such fare.

Anyway, I find the story an hilarious example of how human foibles can ruin a whole kingdom because Henry I's death kicked off the succession crisis/civil war/total fiasco referred to as The Anarchy.  During the Anarchy (1135-1154) merry ol' England is ripped in twain by the forces of Henry's daughter, Empress Matilda and the king's nephew, Stephen of Blois.  Mr. of Blois gets himself crowned King of England early on in the conflict, but Matilda is able to control vast swaths of what is ostensibly Stephen's realm.  Some chroniclers of the period emphasize the breakdown of civil order and misery of the regular people.  I've read historians who consider that stuff to be anti-Stephen propaganda, but for me the banditry and disorder described provides an opening for PC shenanigans.  If the social order is stressed by national events, the PCs can act like normal PCs without the full weight of the justice system falling on their heads.  This is important to me, as I find one of the key psychological functions of rpgs is to provide a socially acceptable venue for the participants to take their ids out for a stroll.

I should note that by setting the game in the Anarchy, and more specifically during the period when Empress Matilda is most active in England (starting in 1139) I am consciously rejecting the Gygaxian concept of the "ongoing campaign".  I think it is often overlooked that before Gygax solidified his model of the campaign (which he discusses at length in the 1st edition DMG) most everyone pretty much was working off of the wargamers'/actual soldiers' definition: a set of military actions in a specific, finite context.  Thus we can talk about the campaigns of the Punic Wars or Rommel's campaign in Africa.  It wasn't until the boys-trying-to-make-summer-last-forever insight "Hey, these games can run indefinitely" that the campaign as we know it today was born.  I can't quite tell if it was Gygax who figured out that D&D campaigns don't have to end.  Maybe it was Arneson or someone else.  But it was Uncle Gary who explained it to the rest of the world.

So I'm trying to resurrect the previous usage in A Surfeit of Lampreys.  Barring extraordinary PC action (which I do not rule out) the campaign covers June 1139 through November 1153.  If we reach the end date of the campaign and everyone is still digging the Wessex scene, my plan is to start over.  Lots of things could be changed in the second playthrough, but the overall geopolitical situation would be the same.

Geographically, the campaign world is much smaller than many others.  I'm really only interested in a rectangular slice of southwest Britain defined roughly by Oxford in the northeast, the Isle of Wight to the southeast, the tip of Cornwall (Land's End) to the southwest and the southernmost part of Pembrokeshire, Wales in the northwest.  You can see the latest version of my campaign map here.

The region so described corresponds roughly to the fictitious Wessex country of Victorian writer Thomas Hardy, plus a piece of Wales.  Hardy was one of the first authors to really figure out that a good way to sell books was to set them all in a shared universe that held some sort of romantic appeal to the audience.  Hardy wasn't a fantasy author or even a Gothic novelist; his Wessex books have very little to do with knights or dragons or ghosts or anything that would be immediately useful in term of plot elements.  But Hardy really inspires me in two ways.  First, he renames a crapload of places in his books.  Instead of Salisbury, he calls pretty much the exact same place Melchester.  Instead of Corfe Castle he uses Corvesgate, etc., etc.  Mentally this helps me construct a pseudo-historical campaign, which I think is very important and superior to an actual (non-pseudo-) historical campaign if one is going to run a game with functioning magic and flying dragons.

The other way Hardy inspires me is that he considered himself a poet but is remembered as a novelist.  He pretty much wrote the Wessex novels for his public and his poetry for himself.  That's a pretty good analogy for what I try to get out of being a DM.  The PCs live in a prose misadventure but on my end I hope to see a moment of poetry now and again.

Which brings me around to my retro/stupid/pretentious theory of roleplaying games.  It's been five years since I first outlined my threefold model of rpgs.  I've run a lot of consciously retro/stupid games since then.  A Surfeit of Lampreys is my attempt to hit the trifecta.  In order to inject some pretension into the mix I'm looking at legit history (both primary sources and analysis by modern experts) and Brit lit.  In addition to Thomas Hardy so far I've also borrowed material from John Keats (his unfinished play King Stephen was the original inspiration for choosing the time period), John Milton and William Blake.  I've also done a little research into older occult sources (real grimoires, etc) in order to write some more fauxthentic spells.

So that's what is going on in my head when I think about this campaign.

Sunday, May 08, 2011

Mother's day gaming


Here's a quick pic of your humble author snapped by my sister Jenn at her place earlier today.  Played a few breezy games with her and her friend Travis, including Zombie Dice and San Juan, the Puerto Rico themed card game. The game above is Tier Auf Tier, a stacking game involving little pieces shaped like various cartoonish animals.  I love a good stacking game.  Anything of the Jenga type where everyone can have a good laugh when the stack falls over.  Making the stack out of silly animals only adds to the ridiculousity of the situation.

Friday, May 06, 2011

A Surfeit of Lampreys, session 10

So this week's D&D session found the characters back in the dungeons below the ruins of St. Gaxyg.  Having cleared James Maliszewski's "Ruined Monastery" (Fight On! #1) they focused most of the night on the level below, where I have placed Gabor Lux's "Tomb Complex of Ymmu M'Kursa" (also FO! #1).  I made a few changes to the Tomb Complex.  I think I previously mentioned using google translate to render most of the tomb engravings into Latin.  I also changed some of the monsters from standard types to uniques: some zombie were given a coffer corpse style choke attack, a wight was changed to this weirdo with transparent flesh that revealed the black necromantic blood oozing through its veins, and the stone golem like minor godling became a sumo wrestler made out of poop.

That last one was a big hit with the players.  They set it on fire, stinking up the dungeon like nobody's business.  When the sumoturd didn't burn properly Sir Jean Claude dropped a vial of mysterious Yellow Essence on him.  It melted the monster and part of the floor under him, granting the PCs access to a chamber below.  They decided to try to clear the level before exploring any further down into the dungeon.

They left at least one other part of the dungeon for their next expedition, a door labeled as leading to "Yliaster the Accursed Sorcerer".  Some of the players wanted to try cracking it open as soon as they found it, but they were down on spells and wiser heads argued for a better planned entry.

Two other notable events.  The Evans brothers, a pair of Welsh thieves, reached tenth and eleventh level respectively.  That's a direct result of my linear XP charts as well as the faster progression for thief types. Carl decided to retire these two fellows, as they have a big piles of gold and swanky houses back in London.  Reflecting on this decision, I announced that tenth level would now be the mandatory retirement age for the campaign.  There's nothing wrong with higher level play, it's simply beyond the scope what I want do in Wessex.

Besides, higher levels aren't really that necessary given my house rules.  Case in point: Alvis the Pardoner deciphered part of Adonis Tigerblood's spellbook.  Because of my overcasting rules, he could immediately begin attempting to cast the second, third, fourth and fifth level spells contained therein.  He didn't start throwing these spells around, though.  I think the fact that almost all of them are my own weirdly-named homebrew spells put him off.  Dane really wanted him to throw the Zenumic Conjuration, which summons a single demon, the same one each time.  So if you get it killed or piss it off further uses of the spell make for prickly situations.  The other spell that the players seemed to like was Beard of Uzza.  It functions pretty much like a cloudkill, except that the spell works by growing the caster's beard superfast, smothering everyone in the area of effect.

Too bad Alvis didn't try any of those spells Wednesday night, as it will be a while before we come back to Wessex.  I pitched to the players the idea of taking a little break from the D and the other D for some Wild West action.  So for the next couple three months we'll be kicking it Boot Hill style.  In two weeks my players will stick their noses into the Newton Massacre, an infamous Kansas gunfight.


No steampunk.  No zombies.  No magic playing cards.  Just rat bastard gunslingers.

Tuesday, May 03, 2011

Monday, May 02, 2011

wandering spy charts



Scanned these babies in from Victory Games/Avalon Hill's old James Bond 007 rpg. A "hot area" is one relevant to the GM's plot. A "cold area" is when you give the PC's clues telling them to go to Cairo, but they all decide Zanzibar is the place to be. Designer Gerard Klug should get some sort of medal for planning for that inevitability. (Note to players: If you encounter James Bond, you are in the wrong movie.) I forget what the pluses and minuses in parentheses mean.

Sunday, May 01, 2011