You know what day it is edition

Because of the way Thanksgiving works in the USA, Ask Massively always falls on the holiday. Last year's approach was closer to my usual one, but you know what? This year, I'm just going for the straight dope. We all know what day it is, we all know what holiday we're celebrating, and in all likelihood we're all so stuffed with turkey that we don't want to think about anything other than slowly sloughing to the bathroom. So let's not kid ourselves.

At any rate, the important part isn't the paragraph I devote to ridiculous nonsense; the important part is the questions. And they're just past the cut -- questions about video personalities, loneliness, and last week's forbidden screenshot.

The problem here is that every one of us was hired for our ability to write, not our ability to be erudite and charming on camera, and several of our team members who don't regularly show up on the stream schedule have reasons that prevent them. For example, I very rarely have the time for the extra setup that's required of livestreaming, plus most of the games I actually play are probably not something people would want to see streamed. Rubi has children to deal with in the evenings and doesn't like other people watching her play. Matt is actually a collection of sentient lawn gnomes who cannot be captured on film. Bree can't get out a sentence without a curse word. You get the idea.

I do like the idea that someone pitched in the comments of allowing me to demoralize the contestants as a Dadaist Simon Cowell, though.

Unfortunately, at this time Massively does not have an official presence or supergroup in the game. This is, I admit, mostly my fault -- I do not have anywhere near the time necessary to properly handle such a group, and seeing as how a steady moderating hand is required to ensure that things don't go off the rails, I've kind of steered clear.

Wings Over Atreia: Tickets please

As we barrel through November and get closer to the holidays, my thoughts have turned to turkey, pie, rolls, pie, and candied yams... did I mention pie? It's not that I can't think of anything else (pie), but I always look forward to family, food, and free time during the upcoming holidays -- free time meaning more gaming and less working! Unfortunately, a few other things are slipping in and interrupting the thoughts of impending gluttony for many Aion players.

Everyone deeply immersed in Atreia knows that two of the most frequent topics of discussion this past week (ignoring all troll comments, of course) have been Star Wars: The Old Republic with its impending effect on Aion and the reduction in arena tickets that went into effect after last Wednesday's maintenance. While Wings Over Atreia took a look at the forthcoming release of TOR last week, I might have altered my predictions a bit had the announcement about the arena tickets happened sooner than right before publishing.

Could one event really affect the balance? Check out past the cut to examine the NCsoft's action, the community's reaction, and the possible repercussions.

One of hottest topics (as denoted by views and replies) on the official forums is the announcement of the "fixing" of the arena ticket bug. I have to admit, when the comment was first made about the reduction, I was all set to reply that two tickets were still available as I personally just logged in and grabbed them. Thank heavens for the edit button, as a quick jump to the forums showed me my error! For anyone who doesn't quite know the situation, here's the scoop: Way back when, in the olden days (i.e., last month), the patch notes for 2.7 were published in Aion's game guide. Oh, happy day, right? Daevas from each hemisphere of Atreia could get a good glimpse at what to expect once 2.7 went live on October 19th. Embedded in this wall of text was the fact that through the introduction quest, Daevas would be granted two arena tickets to test the new PvP arenas. After that, the daily quest would grant only one ticket. However, what was written was not what happened: For four weeks Elyos and Asmodians alike were treated to double arena tickets. Players were excited about the new arenas and flocked to them, filling up the waiting area with a crowd that had only recently been seen during AFK events. Participation was robust, and there was much rejoicing in the lands! *cue Monty Python* Yay. In fact, when I gave my impressions about the future of Aion, I did so with the amount of activity and enjoyment seen in these matches in mind.

Last Monday, the community team let the bomb drop that in just two day's time, the bug that allowed players to receive two arena tickets would be fixed and only one ticket would be rewarded from that time forward. Players from both factions were upset because they felt like something was being taken away from them without any real notice or cause, and I can't blame them. NCsoft let the issue go too long without addressing it. Previously, I have stated how impressed I was with Aion's customer service. However, this community relations blunder is a stain on NCsoft's reputation. And it's one that I think could have been easily avoided.

Wings Over Atreia: TORn away

The topic for this week's Wings Over Atreia presented itself when I logged into Aion at prime-time on Thursday night and found the very odd occurrence of both an empty legion list and an empty friends list. Considering how full the latter is (plug for larger lists here), I've never seen both be completely empty simultaneously, even when I pop in during my odd super-late hours. While I saw some life over the rest of the weekend, overall numbers stayed pretty low, even during the hours of the new arena instances. To what do I attribute this? In some cases it was the usual attack of the Real Life (tm) that got ahold of people, but two extra factors contributed to the population insta-decline: the release of Skyrim and more weekend beta invites from Star Wars: The Old Republic.

Now in the case of Skyrim, it can't be helped (but maybe we can have a little spacing between the release of so many games?!). We know that once the game is played through, people will wander back to their MMOs. TOR, however, is another matter: Besides the shininess of of a new game and the fact that it is both Star Wars-based and made by BioWare, does Aion have a future of vast, empty lands to look forward to at the release of the latest OMG-it's-the-second-coming-of-games title? Some are certainly screaming doom-and-gloom, but we hear that from dissenters about nearly every little thing. Is it possible that there is room enough for both games to survive after the initial hype has passed?

Before we delve any further, please note that this article is not going to be a play-by-play comparison of game features. Go ahead and ignite those flamethrowers or burn me in effigy, but I cannot really comment on features of a game that hasn't been released yet. In my opinion, feature lists are all speculative until a game is out and proves it has what it claims. And no, checking it out beta pre-NDA lift (which I haven't done and wouldn't tell you if I did anyways!) doesn't count. I will offer a comparison at a later date, once I have actually stepped in and experienced the game myself.

Yes, I did just admit that I will be testing the waters of TOR; once the devs mentioned the combination of my two most favorite abilities, I knew I'd give it a whirl. Mmmmm... healing and stealth -- like chocolate and peanut butter, two great gaming tastes that taste great together! Not to mention that I game alongside someone who has an almost insatiable need to sample every possible game that comes by, just to see.

I fully admit that upon release of TOR, pretty much all games -- including Aion -- will see a drop in participation. It is the nature of many gamers to run off after the latest shiny and check out what's new. Many studios even make efforts to mitigate this phenomena by offering new content or their own expansions around the time of a major title's release. However, even among those who head out to try the latest game, there are many who always keep one foot planted firmly in their main game or soon return after the seductive newness wears off of the other. As for those who move on, many in that group tend to do that no matter what, always moving on to supposedly greener pixels. However, that drop in population is not necessarily permanent nor will it kill the game. In fact, I doubt it will.

Believe what you will, but I have heard from people (yes, more than a handful!) who have zero desire to try SWTOR. I have also heard plenty of others express some interest in checking it out yet have also declared that they will not let their Aion subs lapse because they plan to remain. Reasons for leaving are at times the same reasons for staying: friends, legion, aesthetics, and genre.

Another reason for heading on over to another galaxy far, far away is that friends or legions are trying it out. I know some legions have already made the declaration that they are moving en masse into the new game. If truth be told, I am not going to miss some of those legions and counter that the overall game experience in Aion will be better for their departure. Conversely, I know legions that are staying as well as players who are content to remain in Atreia with friends.

While both games have a strong focus on faction PvP, for those who are mild to extreme Star Wars fans (or even just prefer a science fiction setting), the decision to move on is natural. On the flip side, there are gaming geeks who are not Star Wars fans or who prefer a fantasy setting. For these gamers, TOR doesn't have any particular pull other than being new. Sure, those players may also test-run the game to check out the new features and compare the games. But some people just would rather play in a particular genre or setting, and those who prefer fantasy will be sticking with Aion in the long run.

Football's third Marinovich might be the charm

The big, unruly teenager fought with his mother so often that she kicked him out of the house, depositing all his clothes in garbage bags out front. Staying with his father wasn't much better.

"That lasted about a week," he recalled. "My dad ended up coming after me. I locked the door to my room and jumped out the window."

No one seemed terribly surprised. They knew that Mikhail Marinovich was the youngest son of a troubled Southern California sports family.

A columnist once ranked his father, Marv, a gruff former lineman for USC and the Oakland Raiders, among the worst sports parents in history.

Marv earned that distinction for the way he raised Mikhail's older brother, Todd, starting him on a training regimen in the crib, giving him frozen chunks of kidney to teethe on for nutrition. Todd grew up to be a mercurial star for the Trojans and Raiders; his career evaporated in a haze of drug use.

To a lot of people, it seemed that a young Mikhail was merely upholding the family tradition.

"Back in grammar school, I had kids whose parents told them not to hang around with me because my dad was this and that and by brother was a drug addict," he said. "They knew I'd mess up."

They all came to the USC game on Saturday, two dozen family and friends scattered around the Coliseum. Marv had seats close to the field. Others sat by the end zone and Todd was higher up, at the 30-yard line, with a ball cap tugged down over his head.

"Big game," he said. "We've been looking forward to this for a while."

They came to watch Mikhail play at defensive end for Syracuse University.

Five years after leaving Southern California for the East Coast, the youngest Marinovich has become a leader for the Orange. "He's really been extremely reliable," coach Doug Marrone said. "I love having him on our team."

Marrone realizes it might sound odd to use words such as "structure" and "discipline" in describing Mikhail. The young man remains something of a character with his handlebar mustache and six-shooters tattooed across his chest, but the coach insists he "has matured quite a bit."

That means keeping his grades up as he works toward a degree in communication and rhetorical studies. It means settling down at 23, marrying his high school sweetheart.

The transformation required help from a handful of people who stuck by him over the years, believing he could make good despite all evidence to the contrary. It required a sense of hope in a troubled kid whose situation appeared hopeless.

"There are plenty of guys out there who have talent but messed up in life," Mikhail said. "At some point, I knew I'd have to get things straightened out."

Looking back on the friction with his mother, Mikhail is philosophical: "I can't say it was all me or all her. We just weren't getting along." As for life with Marv, well, given what happened with Todd, that was a long shot.

The story is well known. After retiring from football in the 1960s, Marv got into the business of training athletes, his rigid approach modeled after former Soviet bloc coaches. His first son became the ultimate test case.

Todd insists he wanted his dad's help. Some believe Marv - big, intense, volatile - went too far and was responsible for Todd's rebellious nature in college, his subsequent struggles with marijuana and heroin.

By the late 1980s, Marv was divorced and remarried to Jan Crawford. When they had Mikhail, he meant to change.

"He had mellowed," Todd recalled. "Not only from age but learning from past experience."

But after he split up with Jan, his younger son grew wild. Mikhail got into fights and rarely did homework, dropping out of Bishop Montgomery High School in Torrance, Calif., as a freshman. His last name was a burden.

"He took heat from everybody," said Marc Spizzirri, a family friend. "I watched officials in games give him a hard time, teachers, other players."

Spizzirri invited Mikhail to live with his family. It was supposed to be a temporary arrangement, just long enough for father and son to start counseling.

"We were thinking 90 days," Spizzirri said.

There always was something about the Marinovich boys - both Todd and Mikhail - that made people want to believe. A hint of goodness lurked beneath the trouble.

The Spizzirris saw it and ended up letting Mikhail stay long term, even though Marc was wary. "I was taking a risk having this kid with my children," he said. Mikhail had doubts too.

"I knew what living with them meant," he said. "It was not an easy road to go down."

His new family enrolled him at JSerra Catholic High School in San Juan Capistrano and set strict rules. Candace Spizzirri kept him at the kitchen table most nights doing homework. "Anything was better than living with my dad," he said.

Not that the transformation was instant. There were more fights, and a classmate recalls him as less than friendly.

"The first thing he ever said to me was, 'Who are you and why are you sitting at my lunch table?' " Courtney Burton said.

The Spizzirris focused on one issue at a time - asking Mikhail to stop punching other kids, for instance. His behavior and grades slowly improved. A talented basketball player, he tried football, and with Marv's help developed as a pass rusher.

"It was my senior year," Mikhail said. "I remember dad saying, 'You're good.' "

A new kind of kid had emerged.

"I started to realize," he said, "that I was doing OK."

In summer 2007, shortly after Mikhail graduated from high school, police caught Todd skateboarding on the Newport Pier at 1 a.m., carrying a small amount of methamphetamine, a metal spoon and a hypodermic needle.

It was the latest in a string of arrests, and Mikhail, who adored his big brother, had grown frustrated. Maybe the best Todd could offer was an example of what not to do.

"We discussed my issues," Todd said. "I most definitely did not what him to experience what I did."

The following winter, Mikhail enrolled at Syracuse, hoping to put some distance between him and his family name. He had another reason for heading east: Courtney, the classmate he had offended at lunch, was now his girlfriend and living in New York City.

You know who he's related to, her parents told her. You'd better be careful.

Weeks after arriving at Syracuse, Mikhail and a teammate got drunk and broke into a sports equipment room. Then came more headlines when he and another player used family money to open a hookah bar off campus.

It was a nice place with leather couches and flat-screen televisions, and customers lined up outside the door, but the coaches told him to close it down.

So did Todd, who reminded his little brother: "There's a target on your back. Everyone's looking for you to stumble."

Todd had to leave Saturday's game early, but everyone else stuck around - Marv and Jan, the Spizzirris, Courtney and her family - waiting outside the locker room. Marv wore an orange Syracuse shirt.

There was cheering when Mikhail emerged, even though his school had lost. They held a reunion beside the team buses, oblivious to the rumble of idling engines, the stench of exhaust.

"We don't get that many chances to see him," Jan said.

The Marinoviches are still sorting out their lives, but things are looking better. Marv, standing off to the side, said: "There was some difficulty. I think it's a matter of growing up."

As for Todd, he married a woman he met in rehab and they have two children. An art major at USC, he has done paintings that will be part of an exhibit at the Ground Floor Gallery in downtown Los Angeles next month.

"Through the years, we could have given up," he said. "It's all about perseverance."

The future seems especially bright for Mikhail, who made three tackles, deflected a pass and recovered a fumble against the Trojans. His size and speed should give him a shot at the NFL next year.

In the meantime, he has continued to pull himself together off the field.

His marriage to Courtney - her parents now approve of him - has helped. Just as important, Mikhail and Todd and Marv seem to have found a way to accept each other for who they are, to find some positive in a troubled past. That is important to Mikhail.

"In regards to life," he said, "I like where I'm at."

Outside the Coliseum, there were smiles and hugs, even a few tears. Before Mikhail left to climb on the bus, everyone crowded together.

Artificial pancreas ready for diabetics to try at home, say research scientists

Trials of an artificial pancreas that can monitor the blood sugar levels of people with diabetes and then deliver insulin more accurately should move out of hospital into homes as soon as possible, funders of the research programme say.

Promising evidence that adults may be better able to control their condition overnight has emerged from a Cambridge University-led study involving 24 adults and using developments of existing technologies. It was funded by the charity Diabetes UK, and follows encouraging research using similar equipment on pregnant mothers and children with Type 1 diabetes.

Type 1 usually strikes people before they are 40 years of age and affects about one in 10 of those with diabetes. They need to test their own blood sugar levels regularly before injecting themselves with insulin or setting a pump which releases the hormone via a cannula under the skin.

The new system involves placing a small circular patch on the body which continuously monitors glucose levels, sending the results by radio signals to the insulin pump which then automatically delivers the appropriate amount of insulin. This should reduce the incidence of "hypos", when blood sugar levels fall too low, possibly rendering a person unconscious or causing unpleasant symptoms, including sweating, tingling in the lips and a pounding heart.

The latest tests, involving 10 men and 14 women aged 18-65, suggested a 22% improvement in the time participants kept their blood glucose levels in a safe range, halving the time they spent with low blood-glucose levels and reducing the risk of both short- and long-term complications. Half the participants were monitored overnight after consuming a medium-sized meal and the others after a larger meal and alcohol.

Dr Roman Hovorka, who led the research, said: "Hypoglycaemia remains a major challenge, especially during the night, so it's encouraging to see such promising results from our trial using commercially available devices.

"The study is a stepping stone to testing the artificial pancreas at home and suggests that the artificial pancreas may be suitable in adults as well as in children and adolescents we found previously." Iain Frame, head of research at Diabetes UK, said: "The improvements in glucose control overnight using this new technology are impressive, and it is good to see this work develop with the addition of testing the effects following a meal with some wine.

"We now need to see an extension of this study, one which tests larger numbers of people, and then take it out of the hospital and in to the home setting."