15/05/11 08:39 AM
| Arkonor | 285 |
| Bistot | 217 |
| Mercoxit | 192 |
| Crokite | 187 |
| Hedbergite | 171 |
| Hemorphite | 168 |
| Jaspet | 152 |
| Dark Ochre | 147 |
| Pyroxeres | 118 |
| Kernite | 106 |
| Veldspar | 99 |
| Scordite | 93 |
| Gneiss | 90 |
| Plagioclase | 88 |
| Spodumain | 82 |
| Omber | 81 |
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I’ve updated the ore-values-by-jetcan listing on the left sidebar. These values reflect relatively current buy-weighted, market rates for the refined products, assuming a 100% rate of refine and 0% taxes. The relative distance to market is not compared, nor are low-sec regions included. I realize again that this doesn’t fit everyone’s needs, nor does it take into account the value of Omber/Kernite on contract for mission runners. That said, it does offer a quick metric to see how profitable a certain ore is/isn’t going to be. I tend to just hit a belt or a deadspace site and work on everything from Veldspar on down. To each his own.
I also want to take this time to remind all of my industrial friends that CCP has pretty much stolen the old Doritos slogan, “Mine all you want, we’ll make more.”
I don’t have all my ducks in a row. If I did, this wouldn’t be only second notice after a big dry spell. I’m trying to get caught up and re-arrange a few things. In the midst of all of this, I think I have determined what caused the previous communications outage.
Sure there was the tragic loss of hardware, resulting in an inability to connect to the interweb. Sure there were a lot of changes going on around me. I think that the real reason is much more insidious. As I looked back over some of the last pages that I had written and the information I had disseminated, one particular piece stood out. I mentioned something about trying to get caught up.
What was I thinking? More about that later. First a look at some possible methods things could have come to the horrible state that I found them in.
Had I become so cavalier with my time that I felt it necessary to provoke that God the Amarrian Cape Covered Corps keep babbling about [Just kidding Empress Jamyl. Don't suicide bomb my Hulk.]. I only meant that I intended to catch up. I in no way meant that I had it easy and needed a strong dose of hardship to bring me back to reality.
Perhaps I had pissed off the pragmatic capitalist pigs, er, Caldari. They knew I was beginning to get into a swing with my medium hybrid ammo store. It could have just been a case of warranted market pvp that resulted in my whole system of work getting screwed up completely. I was only making an average of 300-500,000 isk per day, which is hardly worth a kingdom.
I really didn’t have the Gallente or Minmatar on the radar. Mayhap it was just that little slight of attention that warranted there subtle interference. They could have always just let things be as I fully intended to sell them hybrid and projectile ammo too.
Regardless of the method, the reason was always the same. I had tempted fate and destiny had rained down ruin and distruction. Well pain and suffering. Well really just inactivity and boredom. I danced with destiny and she trampled all over my tulips before passing out drunk in my ship maintenance bay, obscenely blocking the airlock safety sensor. I’m to blame.
If you got this far, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get caught up. I will always be behind.
Je suis le ténébreux,- le Veuf, – l’inconsolé,
Le Prince d’Aquitaine à la tour abolie:
Ma seule étoile est morte, et mon luth constellé
Porte le soleil noir de la Mélancolie.
How we conceptualize the universe around us plays an important part in determining what we find enjoyable. I once commented to a friend that I am that most detestable of all MMO participants. I am the carebear’s carebear. I find an enormous amount of fulfillment and satisfaction in helping people out and even more so if that person is an industrial ship flying, mining & manufacturing, POS-building, spreadsheet yield calculating fool of an EVE player. I see EVE as a relatively inhospitable, cold place that takes new pod pilots and tends to mount their broken, lifeless corpses on the ends of blasters and auto-cannons while simultaneously spreading any remaining biomass all over the scrap metal shavings to gum up the salvage scavengers.
From this point of view it a short jump to utter fatalism, that if we’re all going to die, we might as well go out with a bang and take any poor pods we meet along the way with us. There are some people who do this very well and with aplomb. They warp, web, point, shoot and pod all in the same breath. They tend to speak loudly and carry large sticks. The are only two options, death and victory. May the gods forgive any poor pilot who happens to escape their wrath. Anyone who runs is then inept and unprepared for life and will obviously meet their end in a quick and hopefully painful manner. How dare someone not engage them in combat! What lowly, incompetent fools to think themselves above an encounter. They should be vocally and wildly ridiculed from the com channels so that everyone else can look on in disgust at their craven behavior.
Or you can decide that this is a place that obviously needs your kind and patient touch. Your isk can make the difference in a young pilot’s life. They might decide that there’s nothing worth the time and energy when the world is out to get them. Oh, how extravagant the gift of a new frigate seems to the player who loses 2 in the first couple of days. The bonds of fraternity forged on the sharing of information and piloting proficiency are strengthened by the application of liberal amounts of understanding and redemption. What uncommon operators and precious pilots lie beneath the common dross of humanity waiting to be refined?
There is a balance that must needs be reached between the pain and providence of new players. Heavenly help does not replace the harsh reality of hell in space. Neither does being beaten bloody mean better basics. If we are to watch our world continue to grow, we need each other. You pirates shoot, maim and kill. However know that I will be teaching other to run, hide and if necessary crawl.
I don’t know where to begin. It seems the universe is going to change radically in the next couple of days. The faithful, foolproof capsuleer mnemonic skill training system is going under a radical frameshift resulting in a cessation of training when you capsuleer membership dues aren’t paid. It seems that even though the system was unintentionally created this way and has operated this way without fail for the last 5 years, it has now become a necessity.
The sadness comes from the loss of many good capsuleers. It seems times are getting lean and the inability to keep your dues paid is nothing new. However, now without being able to continue to learn, it is likely that a lot of players won’t be interested in coming back. They’ll likely pick up jobs planetside or maybe just fly off the radar somewhere….
For myself, I don’t think I would have still been playing if this had been in effect from the beginning. 
Keeping up with all the goings on this week has been a trial in and of itself. And what has been going on that needs so much energy? Well – nothing! That is I just have gotten back from some much needed R & R in Kamio. I was getting a little burned out with all of the missioning I was having to do to get my standings up for refining and really needed a break. I love the Kami system with it’s grand cloud sweep and the way the colors play back and forth across your display as you warp around. It’s one of those systems I pass through quite a bit on the way to and from The Forge and I always think to myself, “This would be a cool place to live.”
I have several of these systems, but Kamio was the first. to really drive home the beauty of the omniverse that we all fly in. I’m not Amarrian, but I’m almost tempted to support their nonsense of some divine action in it’s formation. It evokes some of the images captured in the Gallente heritage museum data streams.
What systems do you love to look at? Where did you fall in love with the beauty of our EVE omniverse?
While continuing to learn how to reprocess modules more efficiently, I’m back in the Lou Ferrigno for several more sessions with my favorite space rocks. I like to think of my self as a Asteroid Psychologist taking rough rocks and releasing their inner potential. What was once merely a rock in a limited and captive environment, being stifled by the gravity of a local celestial body is given purpose and passion. Who knows how far they can go.
They could end up in your next shield extender, afterburner or rifter. They have almost unlimited potential. And to think so many people want to put a stop to it. All the time I hear, “Don’t mine.”, “It’s not worth it.”, and “In defense of these poor rocks we are declaring open season on you and your hulk.” It’s enough to make me almost want to cry. Why would people be so completely ignorant of the untapped promise locked in these modest, unassuming rocks.
This is a topic that I’ll probably come back to at some point. Apparently at somepoint in my career, I made the following statement to a good friend. “I am that most dreaded of MMO players, the care bear.” I tend to upset the natural order of things by needlessly throwing resources at things that could be better put use wiping the virulent infection of my fellow humans from the universe. I constantly waste isk, time and other things to put people that I hardly know into new ships, get them started training new skills, help them get set-up for mining/research/learning/pvp/pve/et cetra.
Case in point: Today I happened across a young Caldari pilot fresh into the SAK and had an overwhelming desire to just throw help at him. He really didn’t seem to know a PDS from an SPR but that only further spurred me to fill his wallet with my isk. To top it all off, he was genuinely interested in learning the game and getting over the learning curve. I almost couldn’t contain my enthusiasm at finding someone so ready to play the game and learn the ins-and-outs of a complex system like EVE.
We talked a length about skill training, mining, missioning and the general accumulation of wealth and power. In the end, I gave him over half of my net isk worth in new skills and equipment that would have taken him a couple of weeks to obtain on his own. I pointed him toward such perennial favorites as EveMon and EFT so that he could begin planning for his own future and make educated decisions [or at least ask educated questions]. By downtime I had made a new friend, had helped a new player and lost over half my isk. Sheesh, what was I thinking 
Like Robin Williams in “Hook” I have finally found my Happy Thought. I had just docked the Lou Ferrigno and was finishing up some post belt ripping administrivia when the coms lit up. It was the director and our POS was looking to be in need of some fuel soon. He was moving a freighter out to the ice system and was going to need to mine some to insure he came back with a full load. I checked my flight time and saw that I still had a few hours left before my biological support systems crashed so decided I could lend a hand.
I enjoy icing a great deal and helping out the corp even more, so it was only natural. The last time we had needed fuel, I had went shopping and come up with a Mackinaw, and fit it out with Ice Harvester II’s and Ice Harvester Upgrade II’s and left it in the system where we generally go icing. All of this as a lead-in for the fact that I decided this was the perfect opportunity to put the old Jump Clone to use.
It had been several months since I had body hopped and can’t really recommend the experience. But the benefits far outweigh any temporary queasiness from transcribing your consciousness into a data stream and waking up light-years away. The first order of business was to get a clone out to the same system where the corporate icing runs. I wasn’t quite ready to trust the jump clone manufacturer’s recent announcement that their system supported same-station jumps. I flew to the station next door and pulled up the jump clone interface. As it had been awhile, it took a few seconds for the information I was seeing make sense. I pulled up the menu on the clone I wanted next door and jumped.
Well, almost. The system screamed and spit out errors. I had forgotten to offline the current mnemonic skill training regimen before the jump. I quickly jumped over to the skill interface and paused my Mining Laser Upgrades learning and then bounced back to the jump menu and jumped. Huh, what happened? Where am I? Oh, wait, that’s right. Clone jump. Different system/station. I quickly onlined my skill training and charted a course to the ice field system. I flew out and fired up the autopilot (it was a high sec route) and went about reviewing my market orders and research projects. There was something I was supposed to think about remembering to think about but it just wouldn’t solidify into a coherent thought. I finally got to the destination and loaded the Bobby Drake into the station dock and began checking the systems. Everything checked out and I was soon out of the station on my way to the top of the ice field, but there was something giving me a nagging sensation in my newly formatted brain. I tried to shake it off and just convince myself it was the jump that had me rattled.
I arrived at the bookmarked navigation point and locked the nearest ice cube. I cycled the harvesters on, sat back and tried to reconcile whatever it was that was bothering me. After a couple of trips back to the station to store my ice I realized that it was my skill training that was bothering me. By jumping into this clone I had added another 24 hours to my skill training. Sheesh!
This is when it hit me, what is it that I enjoy more than ghosting rats, stripping roid belts, out witting pirates? Training skills. My greatest joy comes when I hear, “Skill training complete” come over the coms. Floating out in the ice field I pulled up the market list and quickly grabbed a set of +1 implants. They aren’t great, but they’ll have to do for now until I manage to get some cash after buying the Bobby Drake and still owing for the Lou Ferrigno.
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