I am fascinated by the punk rock poetry of playing pretend. Lending the die the chance and experiencing a change in the state of play, a shared discovery, a bit of table canon for the game shared by all. Looking for narrative procedure generated by chance decided via the shiny math rocks that we all like best.
There is a rhythm to it all, an energy that hums. The rattling die the warbling cackle of the enemy taunting the players. Onslaughts of free thoughts from a mathematical facsimile of procedural strengths and weaknesses thought about thoroughly and thoughtfully.
But that brings me back to the punk rock poetry of playing pretend, of having your friends play pretend. Of writing things that help others play pretend with their friends. Doing it yourself and telling the stories that are small and the stories that are big and the stories that change depending on digits on a die checked against a table and plans plotted by players with panache.