Wil Wheaton's Blog, page 160

in which the secret identity of wesley crusher is revealed

Imagine if Television Without Pity recappers had been writing about TNG back in 1987, only with more swearing, more digressions and more geeky in-jokes, plus behind-the-scenes memories for every episode. That's what Vol. 1 does for the first half of the first season of TNG, from "Encounter at Farpoint" to "Datalore" — it's just the thing for people who love TNG and snark. - Tracy V. Wilson, How Stuff Works.

I mentioned on one of the Memories of the Futurecasts that writing Memories of the...

thirty-two hours in three hundred words

It was just above freezing when I got into the car Tuesday morning. The rising sun had just barely cleared my neighbor's roof, and did its best to melt the frost off of my roof and windshield.

Anne and I sat in the passenger compartment shivering, surprisingly thick clouds of fog blooming in front of us with every breath, while we waited for the engine to warm up.

"We should have started the car five minutes ago and waited in the house," I said, hugging myself to keep warm.

"When we build...

if you've been trying to reach me via e-mail

I took my Mac into the shop for some work last week, and for a variety of reasons that are as complex as they are boring, I haven't been able to get my wilwheaton.net e-mail since I dropped it off. If you've been trying to get in touch with me for business reasons, I'm not ignoring you; I just haven't seen your e-mail (though I should see it by the end of the week.)

...remembering the irrational immortality of youth

I didn't have to look at the weather forecast to know that a storm is on the way; I could feel it with the first step I took outside this morning with my dog.

As I stood on my patio and watched the steam rise off my coffee and swirl up through golden shafts of golden morning sunlight shot through a cloud-filled sky, I remembered a day like this one fifteen or sixteen years ago.

I'd just gotten home from Nice, where I'd lived and worked on a film called Mister Stitch for a few months. It wasn't ...

obscured by clouds

I never quite managed to get started today, and haven't written a single word that wasn't part of an e-mail or something stupid on Twitter. Dammit.

So, in an effort to continue my daily-blog-o-phonic creative output, a very very short story:

The wind came down the canyon and blew ice and snow into Colin's face. He brushed it off his goggles, but had given up keeping it out of his beard days ago.

He looked up, but the summit was obscured by clouds. Still, he knew it was there, even if he...

You just keep on trying, until you run out of cake.

Yesterday, I wrote:

Well, the power just went out, so it's time for me to pack up my Mac and head out to a cafe with WiFi where I can work on my novel in front of people and get this posted. The weird thing is, while it's likely going to take an hour at least from the time I finish writing this paragraph until it actually posts on the internet, there is no perceived delay from whoever reads this, because as far as you're concerned, the post didn't exist until it was published, though it...

he strikes like thunderball, because it's not unusual that she's a lady

I heard a Tom Jones song yesterday, and resolved to spend some time listening to his catalog today while I worked. This lead me to discover two really great albums on Rhapsody that I probably never would have found otherwise. The first is called James Bond 007 13 Original Themes which is exactly what it sounds like. The second is called The Mod Scene, which is this sensational collection of British Invasion Modsound from the 60s that, unlike most compilations, doesn't seem to have a single...

Nicolas Cage has a FEVER and the only cure is more pachinko

One of my great regrets is that, when I was super famous (back in the Swatches-on-jacket years), I didn't get to do one of these bizarre Japanese commercials. I think I would have been the most number one super terrific selling power in the entire prefecture for surprise time.

the guild the guild the guild THE GUILD THE GUILD THE MOTHERFRAKKING GUILD

I, uh, had trouble coming up with a title for this post. Sorry about that.

So season Three of The Guild wrapped up this week, and if the feedback I'm getting via Twitter and e-mail is any indication, we can make a note here: HUGE SUCCESS.

Felicia has a post at her blog where she talks in a spoileriffic way about her creative process and the choices she made for this season. 

So the episodes. Two Guilds. Fifteen Actors. 20 Extras. What a nightmare, who thought of this storyline anyway?!?...

From the Vault: how deep is the ocean?

All my creative energy is currently spoken for, so let's into The Vault and pull out an old post about that time I auditioned for On The Road. 

When I wrote this, I was waiting to find out if I'd been cast in I, Robot. I'd had a sensational audition that got great feedback from the casting director, only to find out that the director (who I recall was annoyed at my mentioning the audition on my blog) "didn't respond" to my tapes. It was pretty heartbreaking, and without more specific...