The Right Kind of Stupid
Time to go to idiot school
This is my late entry to the player advice blogwagon
Confession time: when I started playing TRPGs I was a terrible player. I played exclusively utility characters, hellbent on solving every problem with my evil rat brain. Don’t do this. It’s disruptive and needlessly antagonistic. Having a tool for every situation is only funny and cool when Batman does it. After many years of GM-ing I have had 2 chances to be a player and both times went pretty well. The perspective given to me by running the game all this time helped me shape up as a player and it all starts with the late great Norm Macdonald.
When I sat down to make a character for a Wildsea oneshot I saw the race of moth people and immediately had a stupid idea; I’m going to base my whole character off Norm’s infamous moth joke. The whole session I would pepper in depressing backstory details, only to at the end of the session reveal that the only reason I joined the adventuring voyage was because the light was on. This premise also allowed me to do something really simple that stopped me from being a non-stop problem solver. It let me play dumb.
Flipping the brain switch off meant that when normal me would have been rooting around for items or NPCs to use as meat shields I was doing character stuff. I spent a bunch of time just chewing the scenery, sometimes literally, giving everyone else at the table something to bounce off of and the space to be. My character was a highlight for a lot of players of the oneshot and not just because of my sparkling personality1. Being the right kind of stupid just helped kick things along. For the right kind of stupid person we’re headed right back to Norm, as the version of himself in his book Based On A True Story is just that: selfish, short-sighted and impulsive.
1. Stupid people are selfish
Norm’s “memoir” follows three plot threads. The first is Norm telling stories about his life that almost instantly depart from reality; like only getting his role on SNL by slinging morphine. The second is Norm’s ghost writer being driven to the brink by Norm’s behaviour and the third is a story of Norm in the present where he has a plan. He’s going to go to Vegas, call in all his markers to borrow all he can, and gamble it until he has a million. If he succeeds he’ll buy a ranch and hire men to work it.
“That sounds like heaven,” Adam Eget says …
“Yes,” I say, “but a heaven where I am God, and the men who work for me are men.”
You don’t have to be a theologian to understand how blasphemous this is as a statement but it is also utterly self-centred. This dream of heaven in his own image propels him through the whole novel. Every bad decision, conflict and triumph is because of Norm’s desire to enrich himself. This kind of motivated character is the stuff of GMs’ dreams, as you will always be up to something.
Worth noting that in the novel Norm drags Adam Eget along on his insane plan unwillingly. If you are really going to be scheming at this level you should get some sort of buy in from your fellow players. It’s really just polite2.
2. Stupid people are short-sighted
Norm’s backup plan, should he fail to win and instead build up an insurmountable amount of debt, is to take a lethal dose of Dilaudid.
“Yes, and when I get to heaven I tell God that I died better than broke. In my last act, I stole a million dollars from some of the Devil’s boys. I figure that oughta impress God just fine.”
Once again theologically faulty logic and terminally short sighted. What if the drug doesn’t kill him, what if he changes his mind, what if he merely breaks even? The thought doesn’t even cross his mind. He’s cooked up the scheme and that’s that.
In the realm of TRPGs this is once again giving your GM great tools. Plans already give them plenty of plot threads to pull, but plans with unconsidered consequences are even better. It also cuts down table talk, forging ahead after a quick huddle instead of endless debating of the next move.
3. Stupid people are impulsive
I’ll admit there is a lot of cross-over with being short-sighted, but I would argue there is a difference. Short-sightedness is about not fully thinking through a plan whereas impulsivity is about seizing a brief opportunity. A great example of this happens when Norm is going to go bet on a boxing match, only to see who he assumes is a mob guy laundering money on the other guy. So he switches his bet while they’re still counting the other guys chips.
“But, Jimmy [the bookie], what about that mob guy? He bet ten million.”
Jimmy laughs. “Oh my God, Norm, why didn’t you ask me? That was no mob guy. That was Longshot Louie. He bets anything that’s five to one or better. He’s got so much money he doesn’t care.”
Up to this point Norm had a system and it was working, only to throw it all away on what he thought he saw.
In my experience impulsive players tend to win as often as they lose. It’s the spanner in the works that can pull victory from the jaws of defeat or completely fuck everything up. It’s fun. Players, even the ones who claim to want a smooth problem-less plan, love cleaning up a good mess and trusting your stupid gut creates one hell of a mess.
Conclusion
Was this player advice, or was it just a thinly veiled excuse to talk about my favourite book? I’d like to think I thread the needle nicely between helping fellow over-thinkers and trying to trick people into reading Based On A True Story. There’s a lot to be gained from being the right kind of stupid and I think we could all stand to be a little more stupid at the table. If you disagree fight me; preferably at sunset on an empty beach. It’s just more romantic that way. Plus we can probably get fish and chips nearby after you hobble me.
Just ask all 0 of my friends ↩︎
Valeria Loves’ blogwagon post was pretty much only about this. If you are not so mentally ill that you need to be told not to think so much, her post is great. https://valerialoves.com/players-should-not-try-to-be-good/ ↩︎